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By Inheritance: Octave Thanet
Excerpt from By Inheritance: Octave Thanet
"Good-by," said the friend, still retaining Miss Agatha Danforth's hand on the threshold of the door which a neat maid held open; "this surely will be Thanksgiving for you." Miss Danforth made the expected answer: "It ought to be," accompanied by the expected smile. Still smiling, she watched her friend take the path to the gate between the rusted and dried hydrangea bushes which autumn had seen so ruddily glowing.
But when she returned to her little writing-room off the library, when she sank into the luxurious wing chair which had belonged to Great-grandmother Plunkett, extending her slender feet toward the comforting blaze of the wood fire on Great-grandfather Danforth's andirons, the smile faded.
"This is the fifth time to-day," mused Agatha, "that I have been told I ought to be thankful. Well, it is true." For no cause within her ken she sighed even as she began to enumerate those eminent reasons which her friends or she might cite.
About the Publisher
Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com
This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
"Good-by," said the friend, still retaining Miss Agatha Danforth's hand on the threshold of the door which a neat maid held open; "this surely will be Thanksgiving for you." Miss Danforth made the expected answer: "It ought to be," accompanied by the expected smile. Still smiling, she watched her friend take the path to the gate between the rusted and dried hydrangea bushes which autumn had seen so ruddily glowing.
But when she returned to her little writing-room off the library, when she sank into the luxurious wing chair which had belonged to Great-grandmother Plunkett, extending her slender feet toward the comforting blaze of the wood fire on Great-grandfather Danforth's andirons, the smile faded.
"This is the fifth time to-day," mused Agatha, "that I have been told I ought to be thankful. Well, it is true." For no cause within her ken she sighed even as she began to enumerate those eminent reasons which her friends or she might cite.
About the Publisher
Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com
This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
412 pages, Paperback
First published October 1, 2007
3 people want to read
About the author
Octave Thanet
131 books1 followerAlice French (March 19, 1850 – January 9, 1934), better known as Octave Thanet, was an American novelist and short fiction writer.
(See Wikipedia.)
(See Wikipedia.)
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