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Updated: May 28, 2025
The dark frown on the child's face never relaxed, and, with an impatient gesture, her father ordered her taken at once from the room. Suddenly the great bells of Whitestone Hall ceased pealing for the joyous birth of Basil Hurlhurst's daughter, and bitter cries of a strong man in mortal anguish rent the air. No one had noticed how or when the sweet, golden-haired young wife had died.
"I thought Whitestone Hall especially guarded against thieves," she said, steadily. "You seem to be a desperate woman; but I, Pluma Hurlhurst, do not fear you. We will pass over the remarks you have just uttered as simply beyond discussion." With a swift, gliding motion she attempted to reach the bell-rope. Again the woman intercepted her.
The great bell from the turret of Whitestone Hall pealed the hour of seven, and in the lightning's flash she saw the man arise from his knees; in one hand he held a small bunch of flowers, the other was pressed over his heart. Surely there was something strangely familiar in that graceful form; then he turned his face toward her.
One stormy night she returned quite unexpectedly at Whitestone Hall, bringing with her their little child Pluma, and, placing her in her father's arms, bitter recriminations followed. Bitterly Basil Hurlhurst repented that terrible mistake of his youth, that hasty marriage. When the morning light dawned he took his wife and child from Whitestone Hall took them abroad.
The curtains of Whitestone Hall were looped back, and a cheerful flood of light shone out on the waving cotton fields that stretched out as far as the eye could reach, like a field of snow. The last touches had been given to the pillars of roses that filled every available nook and corner, making the summer air redolent with their odorous perfumes. Mrs.
One bright May morning some sixteen years later, the golden sunshine was just putting forth its first crimson rays, lighting up the ivy-grown turrets of Whitestone Hall, and shining upon a little white cottage nestling in a bower of green leaves far to the right of it, where dwelt John Brooks, the overseer of the Hurlhurst plantation.
The answer sprung quickly to his lips: "The one great point for which I am striving possession of Whitestone Hall;" but he was too diplomatic to utter the words. She saw a lurid light in his eyes. "You shall be my wife," he said, gloomily. "If you have been cherishing any hope of winning Rex Lyon, abandon it at once.
The Flagstaff marks a very high point on the Heath, 439 feet, which is, however, surpassed by Jack Straw's Castle at 443 feet. The Whitestone Pond has been enlarged, and is supplied by New River water. From this site a view of surprising beauty is seen broken ground covered by bracken and gorse, bushes and trees, with the blue outlines of the distant hills.
There was the Vicar of Whitestone, a parish a little way from Blackstable: he was a bachelor and to give himself something to do had lately taken up farming: the local paper constantly reported the cases he had in the county court against this one and that, labourers he would not pay their wages to or tradesmen whom he accused of cheating him; scandal said he starved his cows, and there was much talk about some general action which should be taken against him.
"Out once more came the cudgel, and on they laid; but now I wasn't common stone but whitestone. Lay on, say I; I see, or rather I feel, that the crown is before me. If I must die a marthyr to a dacent spirit, why I must; and so God's blessing be with you all. I'll shine in heaven for this yet. "I think now, Miss, you'll grant that I know something about life."
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