The Knight of the Golden Melice - A Historical Romance by John Turvill Adams
page 321 of 516 (62%)
page 321 of 516 (62%)
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lighting up the tops of the trees into a yellow sheen, and kindling
into liquid gold the placid surface of Massachusetts Bay, a female figure was to be seen hovering on the margin of the wood in that neighborhood. In consequence of the inequalities of the ground, and of some intervening bushes and trees, the collection of houses that lay along the shore of the bay was not visible from the spot where she was walking, nor was there a path to indicate that it was a place of any resort. It seemed to be a spot well adapted to privacy. No sound was to be heard, save the occasional tap of a woodpecker, or the whirr of the wings of a partridge, as, startled by the approach of the person, he suddenly rose into the air, or the songs of the robins, bidding farewell, in sweet and plaintive notes, to the disappearing sun. The female walked on, stopping now and then to gather a wild flower, until she reached a spring which bubbled at the foot of an immense beech tree. It ran a rod or two in a silvery stream from its fountain, and then leaping down a miniature fall into a sort of natural basin, surrounded with rocks, expanded itself into a small pool, as clear as crystal. Around the basin were gathered companies of such wood-flowers as love the water, conspicuous among which, both for number and beauty, were the yellow and orange blossoms of the elegant "jewels," as boys call them. Advancing to this little mirror, the female took a seat on one of the rocks, on the edge of the water, and bending over, appeared to contemplate, with no little satisfaction, what she beheld there; and to tell the truth, it was a pretty face, and justified some vanity. Black hair and hazel eyes, red lips and blooming cheeks, and a well-formed person, composed a whole whereon the eye rested with pleasure. Prudence, (you have guessed it was she,) after looking at the reflection of herself awhile, and smoothing down a stray tress or two, selected from the flowers in her hand some of the most beautiful, and humming a tune, commenced arranging them in her hair. She was some |
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