Moreover, except to a spectator skilled in architecture, all ruined
abbeys are pretty much alike. As we came away, we noticed some women
making baskets at the entrance, and one of them urged us to buy some of
her handiwork; for that she was the gypsy of Netley Abbey, and had lived
among the ruins these thirty years. So I bought one for a shilling. She
was a woman with a prominent nose, and weather-tanned, but not very
picturesque or striking.
TO BLACKHEATH.
On the 6th July, we left the Villa, with our enormous luggage, and took
our departure from Southampton by the noon train. The main street of
Southampton, though it looks pretty fresh and bright, must be really
antique, there being a great many projecting windows, in the old-time
style, and these make the vista of the street very picturesque. I have
no doubt that I missed seeing many things more interesting than the few
that I saw. Our journey to London was without any remarkable incident,
and at the Waterloo station we found one of Mr. Bennoch's clerks, under
whose guidance we took two cabs for the East Kent station at London
Bridge, and there railed to Blackheath, where we arrived in the
afternoon.
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