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Burnett, Frances Hodgson, 1849-1924

"The Shuttle"

"
"Oh! Deary me!" said Mrs. Welden. "I can't think what to say, miss. It
lifts everythin'--everythin'. It's not to be believed. It's like bein'
left a fortune."
When the wicket gate swung to and the young lady went up the lane, the
old woman stood staring after her. And here was a piece of news to run
into Charley Jenkins' cottage and tell--and what woman or man in the row
would quite believe it?

CHAPTER XXV
"WE BEGAN TO MARRY THEM, MY GOOD FELLOW!"
Lord Dunholm and his eldest son, Lord Westholt, sauntered together
smoking their after-dinner cigars on the broad-turfed terrace
overlooking park and gardens which seemed to sweep without boundary
line into the purplish land beyond. The grey mass of the castle stood
clear-cut against the blue of a sky whose twilight was still almost
daylight, though in the purity of its evening stillness a star already
hung, here and there, and a young moon swung low. The great spaces about
them held a silence whose exquisite entirety was marked at intervals
by the distant bark of a shepherd dog driving his master's sheep to
the fold, their soft, intermittent plaints--the mother ewes' mellow
answering to the tender, fretful lambs--floated on the air, a lovely
part of the ending day's repose.


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