East of the Shadows By: Hubert Barclay (1872-)
First Page: EAST OF THE SHADOWS BY MRS. HUBERT (Edith Noël) BARCLAY AUTHOR OF "TREVOR LORDSHIP," "THE GIANT FISHER," "A DREAM OF BLUE ROSES," ETC. "Dawn harbours surely East of the shadows." W.E.H. TORONTO HODDER AND STOUGHTON LIMITED 1913 CONTENTS CHAPTER I "PHILIPPA" CHAPTER II "PHIL!" CHAPTER III THE STRANGER CHAPTER IV FRANCIS CHAPTER V ISABELLA CHAPTER VI DOCTOR GALE CHAPTER VII INDECISION CHAPTER VIII THE HEART OF BESSMOOR CHAPTER IX A SQUARE IN THE PATCHWORK CHAPTER X THE MAJOR'S VISIT CHAPTER XI VIOLETS CHAPTER XII PROGRESS CHAPTER XIII THREADS CHAPTER XIV ROPES OF GOSSAMER CHAPTER XV REVELATION CHAPTER XVI HOPES FOR THE FUTURE CHAPTER XVII ISABELLA'S POINT OF VIEW CHAPTER XVIII MARION SPEAKS HER MIND CHAPTER XIX HALCYON DAYS CHAPTER XX BITTER SWEET CHAPTER XXI POOR RIP CHAPTER XXII FRIENDSHIP CHAPTER XXIII CONTENT CHAPTER I "PHILIPPA" "Her air, her manners, all who saw admired, Courteous though coy, and gentle, though retired: The joy of youth and health her eyes displayed, And ease of heart her every look conveyed." CRABBE. The porter slammed the door with all the unnecessary vehemence usual to his class and touched his hat, a shrill whistle sounded, the great engine gave several vehement not to say petulant snorts, and the long train glided slowly out of the terminus. Gaining speed with every second, it whirled along through the maze of buildings which form the ramparts of London on past rows of dingy backyards where stunted bushes show no brighter colour than that of the family washing which they support every week on through the suburbs where the backyards give place to gardens trim or otherwise, and beds of gay flowers supplant the variegated garments on until at last it reached the open country, spreading fields and shady woodlands, where it seemed to settle to a steady pace that threw the miles behind it, as it rushed forward with mighty throb and roar. Philippa Harford breathed a sigh of relief at finding herself alone in her compartment, and arranging her belongings round her with the method of an experienced traveller, she settled herself in a corner seat and took up her book. She did not read for long, however, for in a few moments her eyes wandered to the window and there fixed themselves on the swiftly passing landscape. She let her hands fall into her lap and sat thinking. Some of her friends (or perhaps acquaintance would be the truer word) had been known to describe Philippa Harford as an "odd girl," and if this indefinite adjective meant that she was somewhat different from the majority of young women of her generation, there was truth in the description. For while freedom of action and of speech are notably characteristic of the young of the present day, there was about her a reserve, one might almost say a dignity, beyond her years. Where the modern girl will cheerfully collect friends haphazard by the roadside, Philippa allowed very few to pass the line which divides the stream of acquaintanceship from the deep waters of friendship. There are, and always will be, some people who display to the world a formidable aspect, as it were a stone wall with a bristling row of broken bottles on the top, or an ugly notice board with injunctions, such as "Strictly Private," or "Keep off the Grass," but Philippa was not one of these. You might wander in her company along paths of pleasant conversation, through a garden where bloomed bright flowers of intelligence and humour, and it was only afterwards that you realised what in the enjoyment of the moment you had failed to notice, namely, that inside the garden a high hedge, which had appeared merely a pleasing background for the flowers, had completely hidden the part you most particularly wished to see, and that the paths had brought you out at the exact spot where you entered... Continue reading book >>

East of the Shadows By: Hubert Barclay (1872-)

First Page:

EAST OF THE SHADOWS

MRS. HUBERT (Edith Noël) BARCLAY

AUTHOR OF

"TREVOR LORDSHIP," "THE GIANT FISHER," "A DREAM OF BLUE ROSES," ETC.

"Dawn harbours surely East of the shadows." W.E.H.

TORONTO

HODDER AND STOUGHTON LIMITED

1913

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I

"PHILIPPA"

CHAPTER II

"PHIL!"

CHAPTER III

THE STRANGER

CHAPTER IV

FRANCIS

CHAPTER V

ISABELLA

CHAPTER VI

DOCTOR GALE

CHAPTER VII

INDECISION

CHAPTER VIII

THE HEART OF BESSMOOR

CHAPTER IX

A SQUARE IN THE PATCHWORK

CHAPTER X

THE MAJOR'S VISIT

CHAPTER XI

VIOLETS

CHAPTER XII

PROGRESS

CHAPTER XIII

THREADS

CHAPTER XIV

ROPES OF GOSSAMER

CHAPTER XV

REVELATION

CHAPTER XVI

HOPES FOR THE FUTURE

CHAPTER XVII

ISABELLA'S POINT OF VIEW

CHAPTER XVIII

MARION SPEAKS HER MIND

CHAPTER XIX

HALCYON DAYS

CHAPTER XX

BITTER SWEET

CHAPTER XXI

POOR RIP

CHAPTER XXII

FRIENDSHIP

CHAPTER XXIII

CONTENT

CHAPTER I

"PHILIPPA"

"Her air, her manners, all who saw admired, Courteous though coy, and gentle, though retired: The joy of youth and health her eyes displayed, And ease of heart her every look conveyed." CRABBE.

The porter slammed the door with all the unnecessary vehemence usual to his class and touched his hat, a shrill whistle sounded, the great engine gave several vehement not to say petulant snorts, and the long train glided slowly out of the terminus. Gaining speed with every second, it whirled along through the maze of buildings which form the ramparts of London on past rows of dingy backyards where stunted bushes show no brighter colour than that of the family washing which they support every week on through the suburbs where the backyards give place to gardens trim or otherwise, and beds of gay flowers supplant the variegated garments on until at last it reached the open country, spreading fields and shady woodlands, where it seemed to settle to a steady pace that threw the miles behind it, as it rushed forward with mighty throb and roar.

Philippa Harford breathed a sigh of relief at finding herself alone in her compartment, and arranging her belongings round her with the method of an experienced traveller, she settled herself in a corner seat and took up her book. She did not read for long, however, for in a few moments her eyes wandered to the window and there fixed themselves on the swiftly passing landscape. She let her hands fall into her lap and sat thinking.

Some of her friends (or perhaps acquaintance would be the truer word) had been known to describe Philippa Harford as an "odd girl," and if this indefinite adjective meant that she was somewhat different from the majority of young women of her generation, there was truth in the description. For while freedom of action and of speech are notably characteristic of the young of the present day, there was about her a reserve, one might almost say a dignity, beyond her years. Where the modern girl will cheerfully collect friends haphazard by the roadside, Philippa allowed very few to pass the line which divides the stream of acquaintanceship from the deep waters of friendship.

There are, and always will be, some people who display to the world a formidable aspect, as it were a stone wall with a bristling row of broken bottles on the top, or an ugly notice board with injunctions, such as "Strictly Private," or "Keep off the Grass," but Philippa was not one of these. You might wander in her company along paths of pleasant conversation, through a garden where bloomed bright flowers of intelligence and humour, and it was only afterwards that you realised what in the enjoyment of the moment you had failed to notice, namely, that inside the garden a high hedge, which had appeared merely a pleasing background for the flowers, had completely hidden the part you most particularly wished to see, and that the paths had brought you out at the exact spot where you entered... Continue reading book >>

Genres for this book
Fiction
Literature

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