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Updated: May 4, 2025
'Who comes wailing in the black o' night? said the voice of Vessons as they neared the hall door. 'I thought it was the lady as no gold comforts her as hollas "Lost! Alost!" in the Undern Coppy. Undern was in its June mood. Pinks frothed over the edges of the borders, and white bush-roses flung their arms high over the porch. All was heavily fragrant, close, muffling the senses.
The garden was tolerably large, and in decent order, and beyond the garden was a fine old orchard, divided from lawn and flower-beds only by a low hedge, full of bush-roses and sweet brier. It was a very pretty place in summer, not unpicturesque even at this bleak season; but Clarissa was thinking of lost Arden, and she looked at Mill Cottage with mournful unadmiring eyes.
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