Excerpt from The Unholy Wish: And Other Stories

It had been a lovely day for the season - October: and the slanting beams of the evening sun fell on one of our fair English scones. The pretty village of Ebury, with its long straggling street, lay in a hollow; its church and graveyard flanking it at one end, a large white villa standing at the other. Beyond and around extended a goodly landscape; woods and dales, smiling green plains and rippling streams, fields from which the grain had been carried; farmhouses dotted about, with a goodly mansion here and there; while almost at hand, a mile off, say, rose the chimneys and walls of Ebury Hall, the residence of Squire Hardwick.

Leaning over the small iron gate that gave admittance to the lawn and flower-beds in front of the white villa, was a girl in the sweet springtime of early womanhood - Miss Emily Bell. The setting sun shone upon her, lighting up her face and the becoming simplicity of the dress she were, a summer muslin sprigged with pink - for the days of monstrosities in the shape of attire had not conic in by many a year.

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