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by:
Susan Warner
CHAPTER I. A single cloud on a sunny day,When all the rest of heaven is clear,A frown upon the atmosphere,That hath no business to appear,When skies are blue and earth is gay.BYRON. "Come, dear grandpa! the old mare and the wagon are at the gate all ready." "Well, dear! responded a cheerful hearty voice, "they must wait a bit; I haven't got my hat yet." "O, I'll get...
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by:
Susan Warner
THE SEWING SOCIETY. I am thinking of a little brown house, somewhere in the wilds of New England. I wish I could make my readers see it as it was, one June afternoon some years ago. Not for anything very remarkable about it; there are thousands of such houses scattered among our hills and valleys; nevertheless one understands any life story the better for knowing amid what sort of scenes it was...
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by:
Susan Warner
CHAPTER I. A little girl was coming down a flight of stairs that led up from a great hall, slowly letting her feet pause on each stair, while the light touch of her hand on the rail guided her. The very thoughtful little face seemed to be intent on something out of the house, and when she reached the bottom, she still stood with her hand on the great baluster that rested on the marble there, and looked...
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by:
Susan Warner
Chapter I. A single cloud on a sunny day When all the rest of heaven is clear, A frown upon the atmosphere, That hath no business to appear, When skies are blue and earth is gay. Byron. Come, dear grandpa!—the old mare and the wagon are at the gate—all ready." "Well, dear!"—responded a cheerful hearty voice, "they must wait a bit; I haven't got my...
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by:
Susan Warner
CHAPTER I. THE FIRST SMOKE OF THE BATTLEFIELD. While Miss Cardigan went with her nephew to the door, I remained standing by the fire, which could have witnessed to so much done around it that night. I felt strong, but I remember my cheeks had an odd sensation as if the blood had left them. I did not know Miss Cardigan had come back, till I saw her standing beside me and looking at me anxiously....
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by:
Susan Warner
WHO IS SHE? "Tom, who was that girl you were so taken with last night?" "Wasn't particularly taken last night with anybody." Which practical falsehood the gentleman escaped from by a mental reservation, saying to himself that it was not last night that he was "taken." "I mean the girl you had so much to do with. Come, Tom!" "I hadn't much to do with her. I...
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