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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rossmoyne, by Unknown This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net Title: Rossmoyne Author: Unknown Release Date: March 3, 2010 [EBook #31492] Language: English Character set encoding: ASCII *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROSSMOYNE *** Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net ROSSMOYNE. BY THE AUTHOR OF "PHYLLIS," "MOLLY BAWN," "PORTIA," ETC. "Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?-- Speak, nephew, were you by when it began? "Here's much to do with hate, but more with love."-- ROMEO AND JULIET. NEW YORK AND CHICAGO BUTLER BROTHERS TROW'S PRINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMPANY, NEW YORK. ROSSMOYNE. CHAPTER I. How a Dove-cot was fluttered in Rossmoyne. The old-fashioned clock is ticking loudly, ponderously, as though determined to betray the flight of fickle time and impress upon the happy, careless ones that the end of all things is at hand. The roses knock their fragrant buds against the window-panes, calling attention to their dainty sweetness. The pigeons coo amorously upon the sills outside, and even thrust their pretty heads into the breakfast-room, demanding plaintively their daily crumbs; but no one heeds. A deadly silence has fallen upon this room at Moyne, albeit life is fully represented here, and two eyes, in which the light of youth is quenched, are looking anxiously into the two other eyes that have also seen the best and the sweetest of their days. Hopelessly the golden roses scatter their petals. In vain the white and tawny birds entreat backsheesh. To no purpose does the elderly clock count out its numbers. The urn is hissing angrily, the two cups of tea so carefully prepared are growing cold. So are the crisp little hot cakes, so is the---- No! by the bye, it isn't! Honey can't. What a chance I was near giving the reviewers! One bird, growing annoyed at the prolonged quiet, flies from the open window to the back of Miss Penelope's chair, and settles there with an indignant flutter and a suppressed but angry note. This small suggestion of a living world dest
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