Martha Finley

CHAPTER I. The shades of evening were closing in upon a stormy March day; rain and sleet falling fast while a blustering northeast wind sent them sweeping across the desolate-looking fields and gardens, and over the wet road where a hack was lumbering along, drawn by two weary-looking steeds; its solitary passenger sighing and groaning with impatience over its slow progress and her own fatigue.... more...

CHAPTER I. Crag Cottage was almost overflowingly full the first night after the arrival of its young mistress and her friends, but with a little contrivance all were comfortably accommodated. Most of them, weary with their journey, slept rather late in the morning, but Captain Raymond and his eldest daughter were as usual out of doors—out in the grounds—early enough to enjoy the beautiful sight of... more...

"For wild, or calm, or far or near,I love thee still, thou glorious sea."—Mrs. Hemans. "I bless thee for kind looks and wordsShower'd on my path like dew,For all the love in those deep eyes,A gladness ever new."—Mrs. Hemans. It is late in the afternoon of a delicious October day; the woods back of the two cottages where the Dinsmores, Travillas and Raymonds have spent the last... more...

CHAPTER I. "Art is long, and Time is fleeting,  And our hearts, though stout and brave,Still, like muffled drums, are beating  Funeral marches to the grave." LONGFELLOW. It was a lovely summer morning, glorious with sunlight, sweet with the fragrance of flowers and the songs of birds. The view from the bay-window of the library of Crag Cottage, the residence of Mr. George Leland, architect... more...

CHAPTER I. "What a storm! there will be no going out to-day even for the early stroll about the grounds with papa," sighed Lucilla Raymond one December morning, as she lay for a moment listening to the dash of rain and sleet against her bedroom windows. "Ah, well! I must not fret, knowing who appoints the changes of the seasons, and that all He does is for the best," her thoughts ran... more...

CHAPTER I. It is a busy, talking world. —ROWE. "I think I shall enjoy the fortnight we are to spend here, papa; it seems such a very pleasant place," Elsie remarked, in a tone of great satisfaction. "I am glad you are pleased with it, daughter," returned Mr. Dinsmore, opening the morning paper, which John had just brought up. They—Mr. Dinsmore and Elsie, Rose and Edward... more...

"Every state,Allotted to the race of man below,Is in proportion, doom'd to taste some sorrow."—Rowe. The Ion family were at home again after their summer on the New Jersey coast. It was a delightful morning early in October: the dew-drops on the still green grass of the neatly kept lawn sparkled in the rays of the newly risen sun; the bright waters of the lakelet also, as, ruffled by the... more...

CHAPTER I.                     "How happy they,Who from the toil and tumult of their livesSteal to look down where naught but ocean strives." —Byron. "Well, captain, for how long have you Uncle Sam's permission to stay on shore this time?" asked Mr. Dinsmore, as the family at Ion sat about the breakfast-table on the morning after Captain Raymond's... more...

CHAPTER I. "O married love! each heart shall own;  Where two congenial souls unite,Thy golden chains inlaid with down,  Thy lamp with heaven's own splendor bright."LANGHORNE. "There, there, little woman! light of my eyes, and core of my heart! if you don't stop this pretty soon, I very much fear I shall be compelled to join you," Edward Travilla said, between a laugh and a... more...

CHAPTER I. It was about the middle of November. There had been a long rain storm, ending in sleet and snow, and now the sun was shining brightly on a landscape sheeted with ice: walks and roads were slippery with it, every tree and shrub was encased in it, and glittering and sparkling as if loaded with diamonds, as its branches swayed and tossed in the wind. At Ion Mrs. Elsie Travilla stood at the... more...