CHAPTER I. IN A YEAR. The room fronted the west, but a black cloud, barred with red, robbed the hour of twilight's tranquil charm. Shadows haunted it, lurking in corners like spies set there to watch the man who stood among them mute and motionless as if himself a shadow. His eye turned often to the window with a glance both vigilant and eager, yet saw nothing but a tropical luxuriance of foliage scarcely stirred by the sultry air heavy with... more...

CHAPTER FIRST. THINGS BEGIN TO HAPPEN. "A magician most profound in his art." It was Sunday afternoon. The griffins on the doorstep stared straight before them with an expression of utter indifference; the feathery foliage of the white birch swayed gently back and forth; the peonies lifted their crimson heads airily; the snowball bush bent under the weight of its white blooms till it swept the grass; the fountain splashed softly. "'By... more...

CHAPTER I THE CRASH ON THE HILL "Smooth as glass!" ejaculated Nan Sherwood, as she came in sight of Pendragon Hill and noted the gleaming stretch of snow and ice that ran down to the very edge of Lake Huron. "And you're the girl that said coasting time would never, never come," laughed her chum, Bess Harley, who was walking beside her with her hand on a rope attached to a bobsled that four girls were drawing. "Never is a long word," admitted... more...

First Chronicle. JACK O'LANTERN I Miss Miranda Sawyer's old-fashioned garden was the pleasantest spot in Riverboro on a sunny July morning. The rich color of the brick house gleamed and glowed through the shade of the elms and maples. Luxuriant hop-vines clambered up the lightning rods and water spouts, hanging their delicate clusters here and there in graceful profusion. Woodbine transformed the old shed and tool house to things of beauty, and... more...

CHAPTER I WISTARIA PORCH "Oh, Little Billee! Come quick, for goodness' sake! The baby's choking!" Patty was in the sun parlour, her arms full of a fluttering bundle of lace and linen, and her blue eyes wide with dismay at her small daughter's facial contortions. "Only with laughter," Bill reassured her after a quick glance at the restless infant. "Give her to me." The baby nestled comfortably in his big, powerful arms, and Patty sat back in... more...

SAM BLANEY   "Patty, Patty, pit-a-pat,  Grinning like a Chessy Cat, if you don't stop looking so everlasting cheerful, I'll throw something at you!" "Throw," returned Patty, as her grin perceptibly and purposely widened to the full extent of her scarlet lips. "All right!" and Elise threw a sofa cushion and another and another, following them up with a knitted afghan, a silk slumber robe, and then beginning on a pile of... more...

CHAPTER I WELCOME HOME “I do think waiting for a steamer is the horridest, pokiest performance in the world! You never know when they’re coming, no matter how much they sight them and signal them and wireless them!” Mrs. Allen was not pettish, and she spoke half laughingly, but she was wearied with her long wait for the Mauretania, in which she expected her daughter, Nan, and, incidentally, Mr. Fairfield and Patty.... more...

CHAPTER I PEGGY-ALONE "Down, Prince!" High above the shrill exclamations of surprise and terror came that thin silvery command which the dog, great black fellow that he was, obeyed at once, and his flight in pursuit of those daring petticoats which had intruded on his master's orchard was brought to an ignominious end. "Girls, say, girls, don't be frightened! He won't bite!" One of the children had already scaled the wall, dropping her apron... more...

The Ugly Duckling. Pixie O’Shaughnessy was at once the joy and terror of the school. It had been a quiet, well-conducted seminary before her time, or it seemed so, at least, looking back after the arrival of the wild Irish tornado, before whose pranks the mild mischief of the Englishers was as water unto wine. Pixie was entered in the school-lists as “Patricia Monica de Vere O’Shaughnessy,” but no one ever addressed her... more...

CHAPTER I There was no denying the fact that Honor Carmody liked the boys. No one ever attempted to deny it, least of all Honor herself. When she finished grammar school her mother and her gay young stepfather told her they had decided to send her to Marlborough rather than to the Los Angeles High School. The child looked utterly aghast. "Oh," she said, "I wouldn't like that at all. I don't believe I could. I couldn't bear it!" "My dear," her... more...