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Myrtle trees of a considerable height, and fragrant with many flowers, were arranged in close order along the four sides of this roof, forming a barrier which no eye from the city beneath or any neighbouring terrace could penetrate.

Now it hung as a bird's glass, it could hear the people driving and walking in the street below, and it could hear the old maid talking in her room to a female friend of her youthful days. They were chatting together, but speaking of the myrtle plant in the window, not of the neck of the bottle. "You must not throw away two rix dollars for a wedding bouquet for your daughter," said the old maid.

You were not born to be merely a loving wife, and your brow is much too high and haughty to wear only a crown of myrtle. Therefore, consider well what you do, princess! Be not carried away by your father's passionate blood, which boils in your veins also. Think well before you act. Your foot is yet on one of the steps to the throne. Draw it not back voluntarily.

For those who want a bed, the hush of the moonlit olives that shadow the terraced slopes gives sweeter sleep than the inns of the towns, and the crooning of the quiet sea is a gentler lullaby than the noises of streets, and the sweetness of the myrtle blossom is better to breathe than the warm air of rooms.

I have a means by which I can purchase rank and position, and I intend to employ this means." "Pray tell me how; let me know your plans," said Louise. He pointed with a cruel smile to the lovers in the myrtle arbor.

It was a garden plot of the most emerald verdure, bosquets of laurel and of myrtle opened on either side into vistas half overhung with clematis and rose, through whose arcades the prospect closed with statues and gushing fountains; in front, the lawn was bounded by rows of vases on marble pedestals filled with flowers, and broad and gradual flights of steps of the whitest marble led from terrace to terrace, each adorned with statues and fountains, half way down a high but softly sloping and verdant hill.

"No, indeed; you must go alone. I shall not appear at all." "Why, mother?" "Because!" I came across the above passage near the beginning of one of Myrtle Reed's stories The Master's Violin and, towards the end, I found this: "Iris, I have been miserable ever since I told you I wrote the letters." "Why, dear?" "Because!"

This was just what Arthur was thinking. It was very strange to him to hear his father talking in this way to him; he had never done so before; and it made him love him as he did not know he ever could. It was quite true that everything was looking black and gloomy, and that to try and see brightness in his life at Myrtle Hill seemed to make the dreary feeling more intense at his heart.

Moreover, Lucy's two long visits had made Mrs. Ferrars feel a strong interest in her, and, with a sort of maternal affection, she inquired after the cuttings of the myrtle which she had given her. 'Ah! said Albinia, 'I never honoured gardening so much. 'I know you would never respect it in me.

Next morning, Major Warburton explored the spacious gardens. "Here many a broken arbour and trellis bending under masses of jasmine and honeysuckle, showed the care and taste that were once lavished on this wild but beautiful hermitage: a garden-house, surrounded by an enclosure of roses run wild, stood in the midst of a grove of myrtle and bay trees.