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Updated: June 18, 2025
When at last just before Edgar and his wife were going to sail for Canada, and he and she were making their farewell visit at the Hazels when at last Mr. St.
Now it was dark; and, terrible work breaking through brambles and hazels and tumbling over rocks.
He stayed after the other guests, and was yet talking eagerly to his hostess when the dressing-bell rang. "We dine alone," Lady Agatha said to the old friend who had brought Mr. Jardine. "And I go nowhere afterwards: I am fagged out. How glad I am that next week sees us at Hazels! If you and Mr. Jardine could dine, Colonel Brind?" The old friend answered her wistful look.
The very song of that blackbird, in the thorn-bushes an' hazels below me, is like the voice of an ould friend to my ears. Och, indeed, hardly that, for even the voice of man changes; but that song is the same as I heard it for the best part o' my life. That mornin' star, too, is the same bright crathur up there that it ever was! God help us!
The woods were still. Save for a swarm of gnats which hummed in a minor key around the sleeping Lampron, nothing stirred, not a leaf even. All nature was silent as it drank in the full sunshine. A murmur of distant voices stole on my ear. I rose, and crept through the birches and hazels to the edge of the glade.
The broad sheet of water ran up in quite a bay toward the fine old English mansion, and round this bay were dense clumps of hazels, patches of alder, and old oak-trees grew right on the edge of the perpendicular bank, their roots deep down beneath the black leaf-mould, which here formed the bottom of the clear water.
I often think I see the smooth river that runs through it, and the meadows that I played in when I was a child; the glen behind our house, the mountains that rose before us when we left the door, the thorn-bush at the garden, the hazels in the glen, the little beach-green beside the river Oh, sir, don't blame me for crying, for they are all before my eyes, in my ears, and in my heart!
Very well, you shall take us both into the country on Thursday. Mary will not dream of refusing me." "That is it. She means to spend those six days between Thursday and Wednesday toiling at her book. I have heard her say that she will spend Thursday at the British Museum." "Stuff and nonsense, she shan't! The world will do just as well without the book. She must come to Hazels on Saturday.
The rubbish had been cleared from the ancient watercourse; the tough old wheel, freed from the weeds and soil which bound it, was set running as in the past, and a palisade of stout pickets erected to fence out the curious. The side furthest from the roadway, with its clumps of hazels, alder thicket, and chestnut wood in the distance was left open.
In the foreground there is a hedge of hazels, the nuts hang in great clusters, and contrast strongly with their bright green against the dark leaves; the blue chicory-flower and the blood-red poppy grew on the side of the ditch, upon which are some tall rails, over which the ladies have to climb: the delicate sylph-like figure is Eva.
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