Excerpt from Juliet, Vol. 1 of 3

Sparkle of its eddies belying the drowsiness of its murmur, its Opposite banks rising steeply from pasture to bent, from bent to ling, whose purple 510w lay in a sultry haze against the sky. Two fields away, just where the valley was narrowest, the old Grange stood, sunk amid the abundant foliage of sycamores, oaks, alders, and wild cherries, above which its blue smoke lazily curled, Here a bridge spanned the beck, its ivy-hung arch re¿ected in one of the deep brown sun-¿ecked pools which made the Whern dear to trout-fishers, and in front of the house, sheltered, warm, and fragrant, lay Molly's garden, gay now with purple iris, tiger-lilies, and double stocks, its borders edged with tortoise-stones from the river, its paths finialed with bushes of box and southern wood. The front-door and the lattices of the windows in their heavy mullions were all set wide open for sun and scented air to steal in.

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