Fiction Books

CHAPTER I. —If there ever was a woman thoroughly like her name, it was Agatha Bowen. She was good, in the first place—right good at heart, though with a slight external roughness (like the sound of the g in her name), which took away all sentimentalism. Then the vowels—the three broad rich a's—which no one can pronounce with nimini-pimini closed lips—how thoroughly they answered to her... more...

A CRY ON THE HILL The dance was over. From the great house on the hill the guests had all departed and only the musicians remained. As they filed out through the ample doorway, on their way home, the first faint streak of early dawn became visible in the east. One of them, a lank, plain-featured young man of ungainly aspect but penetrating eye, called the attention of the others to it. "Look!"... more...

Chapter 1 The Floressas Des Esseintes, to judge by the various portraits preserved in the Chateau de Lourps, had originally been a family of stalwart troopers and stern cavalry men. Closely arrayed, side by side, in the old frames which their broad shoulders filled, they startled one with the fixed gaze of their eyes, their fierce moustaches and the chests whose deep curves filled the enormous shells... more...

CHAPTER I. 'Eureka!' It was I, Carl Masters, of the secret service, so called, who uttered this exclamation, although not a person of the exclamatory school; and small wonder, for I was standing beneath the dome of the Administration Building, and I had but that hour arrived at the World's Fair. I was not there as a sight-seer, not on pleasure bent, and even those first moments of... more...

"Dr. Anstice"—the girl spoke slowly, and her voice was curiously flat—"how much longer have we—before dawn?" Without replying, the man glanced at his watch; and when he spoke his voice, too, was oddly devoid of tone. "I think—only an hour now." "Only an hour." In the gloom of the hut the girl's face grew very pale. "And then——" She broke off,... more...

I I was happily at work this morning among my butterbeans—a vegetable of solid merit and of a far greater suitableness to my palate than such bovine watery growths as the squash and the beet. Georgiana came to her garden window and stood watching me. "You work those butterbeans as though you loved them," she said, scornfully. "I do love them. I love all vines." "Are you... more...

CHAPTER I MAY-JUNE, 1815 Passage from Ceylon to England—Napoleon's return—Ostend—Bruges—Ghent— The King of France at Mass—Alost—Bruxelles—The Duke of Wellington very confident—Feelings of the Belgians—Good conduct of British troops—Monuments in Bruxelles—Theatricals—Genappe and Namur—Complaints against the Prussian troops—Mons—Major-General Adam—Tournay—A French... more...

Most gentle Sleep! Two nights I wooed in vain;Thou wouldst not come to banish racking pain:For what is Sleep but Life in stone bound fast?Oblivion of the Present, Future, Past....

CHAPTER I THE JOURNEY The Duchess of Banford and her two children were driving toward their villa, when, owing to the roughness of the road, the front wheel of their coach was suddenly broken. Considerably frightened, mother and children quickly alighted. The approaching darkness, coupled with the loneliness of the place, added to the difficulty; for the prospect of spending the night in the woods was... more...

CHAPTER ITHE GREAT FOREST The old men say their fathers told them that soon after the fields were left to themselves a change began to be visible. It became green everywhere in the first spring, after London ended, so that all the country looked alike. The meadows were green, and so was the rising wheat which had been sown, but which neither had nor would receive any further care. Such arable fields as... more...