Mazo de la Roche

“ It seemed that the dignity of the gnarled old tree would never be shaken. At each blow a shiver ran through its far-spreading branches and, one by one, the remaining apples fell, but for a long time the great trunk and massive primal limbs received the onslaughts of the axe with a sort of rugged disdain. At last, with a straining of its farthest roots, it crashed to the ground, creating a gust of air that was like the last fierce outgoing of breath from a dying man.
Renny stood, lean, red-faced, triumphant, his head moist with sweat. He glanced shrewdly at Alayne and then turned to Vaughan. ”

“ The sky had, indeed, become deeply blue, and a great pink cloud hung above the Cathedral like a welcoming banner. There had been frost in the night forming thin ice over the puddles in the road. All those reflected the serene pink of the cloud, a blue pigeon picked his way delicately among them. A sweet-smelling wind swayed the moist brown limbs of the elm trees. All the world seemed like a great organ attuned to joy.
"Suppose," suggested Angel, "that we just race around to the cobbler's and tell him the news. The Dragon is too busy to miss us." ”

“ She lived from dawn to dark among the fruit, and, at night, slept dreamlessly beneath the eaves. There she was, strong, vital, rosy among these sallow, silent Heaslips, a creature of instincts, emotions, not much more developed intellectually than the soft-eyed Jersey in the byre, nor the wood pigeon that called among the cedars. Like the birds she felt a stir within her that urged her to fly before the winter, but she knew not where to fly, nor had she the money to take her further than Brancepeth. ”

“ Slender leaves like little golden fish, fell from the bending willows into the lagoon, sinking slowly, mirrored for one lovely moment in the still water.
Mirrored, too, was the green boat, and Delight, fearfully dipping the oars. . . . There seemed to be two boats, two Delights, crossing the deep lagoon.
The sun, like a great red rose, lay at the water's edge, its rich light streaming like a banner from shore to shore. A little flock of gulls floating with folded wings, watched the passing of the boat, with turnings and archings of their downy necks. ”

“ Derek had felt that he must get away from the house with its strange associations—the atmosphere of his marriage clung like stale incense to the rooms. After a few turns on the driveway, he had followed the path into the orchard.
It was dark as a crow's wing there, a good place to wander unseen. The lantern hanging before the shack only served to intensify the richness of the night, as a jewel the raven hair of a woman. ”

“ Like incense, the sweetness of the wood smoke rose from the beach. Wake's little naked figure was darting here and there like a sandpiper.
She studied Renny's profile, the carved nose, the lips gripping the pipe, the damp hair plastered against the temples. It was so immobile that a heavy depression began to drown her mood of passionate excitement. Looking at him, remembering Eden, she began to feel that she had had enough of Whiteoaks. She had bruised her soul against their wanton egotism. This Renny whom she loved was as remote, as self-sufficient, as that rock out yonder. ”

“ Something—was it a breath? a sigh?—made me look back into the attic where Lucy's clothes clung to the high-backed chair, like flower petals blown against a wall. The pier-glass had caught all the glory of the morning and was releasing it in quivering spears of light that dazzled me for a moment; I rubbed my eyes, and stared, and shook a little, for in the midst of all this splendour I saw Lucy! No pallid, rigid ghost, but something warm, eager with life, spreading the folds of the lilac gown like a butterfly warming its new wings in the strength of the sun. ”

“ Derek scarcely heard their talk. An overwhelming weight of loneliness had fallen on him. Fawnie was gone. No more would she sit beside him watching the fire, with that mysterious, sombrous look that had sometimes almost frightened him; no more would her hair fall like a silken mantle over his shoulder, around his neck; and her arms hold him close against her—"as a matter of fac', darling, you are no better than Buckskin"—Oh, the sweetness of those arms! Their fragility—and their strength—those pouting lips. And she loved Jammery—He could not hear what those fellows were saying. ”

“ Perkin's arms, about her, his blazing grey eyes. . . .
Suddenly Jimmy's eyes were looking into hers, pleading, blue as a little child's; and his mouth, tender, a little sulky, but a dear mouth, after all. Oh, she loved Jimmy; she would not give in to Perkin. Stronger than she? Ah, but not more knowing. Her fingers twined themselves in the breast of his shirt. Her muscles stiffened. Her legs gripped the planks. Another effort, and she had thrown him from her into the water. Down among the watercress—into the soft, cold bed of the stream. ”

“ The Whiteoaks seemed to be able to endure an unconscionable amount of either heat or cold. Alayne began to be accustomed to these extremes of temperature, to an evening spent before the blistering heat of the drawing-room fire, and a retiring to a bedroom so chill that her fingers grew numb before she was undressed.
From the summerhouse issued a stream of graceful, carelessly buoyant lyrics like young birds. Indeed, Piers with brutal jocularity remarked to Renny that Eden was like a sparrow, hatching out an egg a day in his lousy nest under the vines. ”

“ Grimstone fronted an unbroken view of cliff, and lake, and sky. Yet all was not harshness, for a cherry orchard, in full bloom, crowded to the very kitchen doors, the moist ground beneath the trees already white with the tender petals that fell before the rough May wind. Behind the cherry orchard rose the ordered ranks of the apple orchard barely in bud, excepting a few crab-apple trees in pink flower, that filled the air with their lovely scent. West and south of the orchards were the plantations of small fruits, and, beyond them, fields and pastures, and a dark pine wood. ”

“ The Cathedral clock sounded the hour of midnight.
Soon we heard the stealthy steps of Captain Pegg, and we gasped as we saw him, for in place of his flowered dressing-gown, he wore breeches and top boots, a loose shirt with a blue neckerchief knotted at the throat, and, gleaming at his side, a cutlass.
He smiled broadly when he saw us.
"Well, if you aren't armed—every man-jack of you—even to the bantling!" he cried. "Capital!"
"My sword, she's weal," said The Seraph with dignity. "Sometimes I fight giants." ”

“ But beneath her passing moods lay her real self that she revealed to no one except Bastien whom she loved, and to him only in flashes—fierce caresses, violent fits of weeping that made him uneasy. She looked sometimes as though she were capable of running a knife into a man.
Mrs. Jessop had independent means. She occupied the position of housekeeper because her abundant vitality would not be dammed into the sluggish pool of a lonely life. She needed other women to domineer over, to be dependent on her for favours; men, with whom to be alternately jovial and sullen. ”

“ The torches in the summerhouse became mere flickering sparks: the stars were blown out like birthday candles. The figures of the young men moving about the bonfire became heroic; their monstrous shadows strove together upon the rich tapestry of the evergreens. The air was full of music, of voices, of the crackling of flames.
Out of the shadow thrown by a chestnut tree in bloom, Pheasant ran across the grass to Alayne's side. She seemed to have grown during those weeks of her imprisonment. Her dress looked too short for her. Her movements had the wistful energy of those of a growing child. ”

“ Charles Augustus, after one violent contortion, hurled himself from the burdock, and, before we could intercept him, disappeared into a bristling forest of grass blades.
"He's gone! He's gone!" wailed The Seraph. "He's wun away fwom her!"
But, even as he spoke, the agile Ernestine leapt lightly from the trembling leaf in hot pursuit. Green spears bent to open a way for her; dizzy gnats paused in their droning song, feeling in the ether the tremor of the chase; bees fell from the heart of honey-sweet flowers, and lay murmuring and booming in the grass. ”

“ Ingratiating odours stole up from meadow and field. Forth from the lake leaped the hot bright sun and strode like a giant to his work. Sweet, hostile strains of rival birds rose upward to the sky. Everywhere, everywhere, the striving, shooting, leaping, singing upward; but for Buckskin the lying down in the dark earth beneath the walnut trees, the clasping of little hands, the shutting of gay, deep eyes, the folding of bright wings scarcely spread.
It was only six o'clock when Derek crossed the lawn to the green plot behind the apple-house where he had told Newbigging to dig the grave. ”

“ She made the boat fast to the twisted root of a tree, where it would be hidden among the bushes. Her feet sank into the moist earth from which water oozing into her footprints formed tiny glistening pools. She hid the basket among the elder bushes on the shore, and there, shading her eyes with her hand, scanned the fields for the figure of her unknown lover. Evening mists were gathering in the hollows; the hillsides were velvet brown. ”

“ His exuberance and the speed at which they drove the car made people stare. The greenish-blue lake, still stirred by a gale which had blown all night, but had now fallen to a gentle breeze, beat on the shore a rhythmic accompaniment, an extravagant wedding march. Cherry orchards flung out the confetti of their petals on the road before them, and the air was unimaginably heavy with the heady incense of spring. Piers stopped the wagon of a fruit vendor and bought oranges, of which Pheasant thrust sections into his mouth as he drove, and ate eagerly herself, for excitement made them thirsty. ”

“ When we drew up before him, Angel and I in stiff Eton collars and The Seraph fresh as a daisy, in a clean white sailor blouse, he raised his eyes and gave us a vague smile, and a wave of the hand toward three low wicker chairs. We were not a bit abashed by this reception, for we knew the Bishop's ways, and it was joy enough that we were safe in his garden staring up at the blue sky through flickering leaves, and listening to the splash of the little fountain that lived in the middle of the cool grass plot. ”

“ Kirke's thin lips stretched in a grin; he bent closer to the pane.
But now a sound other than the scratching of Lovering's nib shot through his sensitive nerves. It was the sound of a sob. A woman's sob. The transom above his door was open and, turning his head sideways towards it like a shrewd, aquiline bird, he made out that the second sob came from the room across the passage. Silently he rose and went to the door, frowning down at Lovering as he stood with his hand on the knob. No, he would not tell Lovering. Let him go on with his stupid letter. He would only spoil things. ”

“ Sometimes the other Alayne was different, not sad and lonely but wild and questioning. Had life nothing richer for her than this? Reading, reading manuscripts, day in, day out, sitting at night with gaze bent on Miss Trent's chattering face, or going to the Corys' or some other house, meeting people who made no impression on her. Was she never going to have a real friend to whom she could confide everything—well, almost everything? Was she never—for the first time in her life she asked herself this question in grim earnest—was she never going to have a lover? ”

“ The earth sang as she danced her dewy way among the paling stars. The little grey clouds blushed pink against the azure sky. Blossoming boughs of peach and apricot hung over the gates of heaven, and rosy spirals curled upward from two chimneys. Pink-footed pigeons strutted, rooketty-cooing along the roofs. They nodded their heads as though to affirm the consummation of a miracle. "It is so—" they seemed to say—"It is indeed so—" One of them hopped upon the cobbler's chimney, peering earnestly into its depths. "It sees the star!" shouted The Seraph. "It sees the star and nods to it. ”

“ The storm had done its damnedest, and left behind this white, silent, sinister passivity—all its passion frozen into a glittering picture for remembrance.
The lake was a seething cauldron. From its rocking waves rose endless spirals and columns of vapour, twisting, writhing together, struck into a thousand radiant tints by the shafts of the sun. The red sun itself mounted with speed into the melting glories of the sky, like a fiery ball hurled upward from below by giants at play. ”

“ Do you acknowledge that I am a better lover than you?" To Pheasant: "I have poisoned your life." To Finch, hiding in the darkness: "I have flung you, head first, into the horrors of awakening." Renny and Alayne, their fingers still locked, stood looking upward at the flame-colored smoke that rose toward the sky in billows endlessly pursuing each other, while, after the crashing of a log, a shower of sparks sprang upward like a swarm of fire-flies. ”

“ Angel and The Seraph faced about to look at her in consternation, their hair wild in the wind, and the rising sun making an aureole about them. The four of us stared at each other in silence for a space, while the attic-room, with its cobwebs reeled—the sun rose, and sank, like a floundering ship, and Mrs. Handsomebody resembling, in my fancy, a hungry spider, in curl papers, considered which victim was ripest for slaughter.
"You—and you—and you—" she gobbled. "Oh, to think of it! No place safe! What you need is a strong man. ”

“ The brazen vibrations rocked their bodies, the music drugged their senses. Faster and faster they sped. They had taken off their hats and the night wind blew between their parted lips, whistled in their teeth, filled their lungs. All outside their whirling circle became a shining blur of lights and faces. To be flying like this with her beside him on a unicorn fired Kirke's spirit into a wild joy. They two! They two! They were worth more than all this throng of clods that peopled the Fair grounds together. Delight and Duncan. Duncan and Delight. ”

“ Goldenrod rose, taller than the fences, its sprays imprisoning passing thistledown. The hips of the brier shone, plump and ruddy. Perhaps something of the gentle melancholy of the morning overtook those two people, usually so talkative when together, or perhaps each felt less certain of the other's state of mind than ever before.
When they came to the boundary between Durras and Grimstone they saw, crossing a field, the figures of two men. They were Derek and Edmund Vale.
"Shall we go on, or wait and speak to them?" asked Grace.
"We'll wait, don't you think so? They have seen us." ”