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When the Birds Begin to Sing   By:

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First Page:

[Frontispiece: "The vicar's wife would have a fit if I lounged like this." See page 4 ]

WHEN

THE BIRDS

BEGIN TO SING.

A Novel

BY

WINIFRED GRAHAM,

AUTHOR OF

"ON THE DOWN GRADE," &c., &c.

WITH SIXTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS

BY HAROLD PIFFARD.

LONDON:

C. ARTHUR PEARSON LTD.,

HENRIETTA STREET, W.C.

1897

CONTENTS.

CHAP.

I. AND WHEN LOVE SPEAKS

II. "IMPARADIS'D IN ONE ANOTHER'S ARMS." Milton

III. "GOD MADE THE WOMAN FOR THE MAN." Tennyson

IV. LIFE IS A JEST

V. "THE FLY THAT SIPS TREACLE IS LOST IN THE SWEETS"

VI. LIKE ONE THAT ON A LONESOME ROAD DOST WALK IN FEAR AND DREAD

VII. THE SHADOWS RISE AND FALL

VIII. KIND HEARTS ARE MORE THAN CORONETS.

IX. HEART SICK AND WEARY WITH THE JOURNEY'S FRET

X. FALSER THAN ALL FANCY FATHOMS

XI. IF WE ONLY KNOW! IF WE ONLY KNOW!

XII. "TO MORROW, AND TO MORROW, AND TO MORROW." Shakespeare

XIII. "IF NEED, TO DIE NOT LIVE." Charles Kingsley

XIV. IN CLOUDS OF SILENCE FOLDED OUT OF SIGHT

XV. "AH, FOR SOME RETREAT DEEP IN YONDER SHINING ORIENT." Tennyson

XVI. OH, LOVE! IN SUCH A WILDERNESS AS THIS

XVII. "WHERE THERE AIN'T NO TEN COMMANDMENTS." Rudyard Kipling

XVIII. LET US BE OPEN AS THE DAY

XIX. THE IDEAL! DIM VANITIES OF DREAMS BY NIGHT

XX. LIFE IS THORNY, AND YOUTH IS VAIN

XXI. "BY A ROUTE OBSCURE AND LONELY, HAUNTED BY ILL ANGELS ONLY." E. A. Poe.

XXII. "NO FOOTSTEP STIRRED THE HATED WORLD ALL SLEPT, SAVE ONLY THEE AND ME. (OH, HEAVEN! OH, GOD!)"

XXIII. "OH, I DEFY THEE, HELL, TO SHOW, ON BEDS OF FIRE THAT BURN BELOW, A DEEPER WOE." E. A. Poe

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

"THE VICAR'S WIFE WOULD HAVE A FIT IF I LOUNGED LIKE THIS" . . . . . . . . . . Frontispiece

"LOOK! THERE IT GOES."

SALUTING THE OLD PICTURES ON THE WALL WITH MOCK COURTESY

THE DINING ROOM DOOR OPENS, AND PHILIP ROCHE STANDS BEFORE THEM

"MR. AND MRS. GREBBY!"

SHE COVERS HER FACE WITH HER HANDS

"MAY I SEE THAT PHOTOGRAPH?"

"WHY, IT'S NEVER MR. ROCHE!" SHE EXCLAIMS

SHE RUSHES TO THE DOOR WITH A WILD CRY

ELEANOR STAGGERS ON BREATHLESSLY UP THE HILL

THE CRUEL FINGERS PRESS WITH DEADLY FORCE

BIG TOMBO BOWS ASSENT

BEARING TENDERLY THE LIMP BODY OF THE TERRIER

"WHAT VILLAIN HAS KILLED MY HORSE?"

SHE STEALS INTO THE VERANDAH AND WATCHES

PHILIP THROWS BACK HIS COAT, AND SHE SEES THE SHIRT BENEATH IT IS SPLASHED WITH BLOOD

WHEN THE BIRDS BEGIN TO SING.

CHAPTER I.

AND WHEN LOVE SPEAKS.

She was certainly very pretty, and just then she looked prettier than usual, for the sharp run had brought a more vivid colour to the cheek, and an added sparkle to the eye. She was laughing, too the rogue as well she might, for had she not brought her right hand swiftly down upon his left ear when he had chased her, caught her, and deliberately and maliciously kissed her, and did he not now look red and foolish, and apparently repentant?

But let me start from the beginning, and tell you how it all came about.

Eleanor, the daughter of a neighbouring farmer, is as fresh and beautiful in the eyes of Philip Roche as the field flowers whose heads fall fading beneath his tread while he follows her through the long grass. He has watched her playing with the innocent school children little more than a child herself and then, with the calm assurance that to him is second nature, joins the merry throng unasked. The children greet him eagerly, after scrambling for a handful of silver from the stranger's pocket, for is it not the great, grand treat of all the year?

"Come and play wif us," lisps a little maiden of five summers, whom Philip tosses on his shoulder with good natured ease... Continue reading book >>




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