Summary

Portrait of R. D. Blackmore R. D. Blackmore Lorna Doone — 55. Getting into chancery (1869)

As the river we float upon (with wine, and flowers, and music,) is nothing at the well-spring but a bubble without reason.
Feeling many things, but thinking without much to guide me, over the grass-plats laid between, I went up to Lorna. She in a shower of damask roses, raised her eyes and looked at me. And even now, in those sweet eyes, so deep with loving-kindness, and soft maiden dreamings, there seemed to be a slight unwilling, half confessed withdrawal; overcome by love and duty, yet a painful thing to see.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of R. D. Blackmore R. D. Blackmore Lorna Doone — 55. Getting into chancery (1869)

Now partly with her own white hands, and partly with Gwenny's red ones, Lorna had made of this sunny spot a haven of beauty to dwell in. It was not only that colours lay in the harmony we would seek of them, neither was it the height of plants, sloping to one another; nor even the delicate tone of foliage following suit, and neighbouring. Even the breathing of the wind, soft and gentle in and out, moving things that need not move, and passing longer-stalked ones, even this was not enough among the flush of fragrance, to tell a man the reason of his quiet satisfaction.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of R. D. Blackmore R. D. Blackmore Lorna Doone — 55. Getting into chancery (1869)

For now the Doones, having driven back, as every one said, five hundred men—though not thirty had ever fought with them—were in such feather all round the country, that nothing was too good for them. Offerings poured in at the Doone gate, faster than Doones could away with them, and the sympathy both of Devon and Somerset became almost oppressive. And perhaps this wealth of congratulation, and mutual good feeling between plundered and victim, saved us from any piece of spite; kindliness having won the day, and every one loving every one.
Source: Wikisource

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