There was a gentle rustling of skirts. He grasped Lucilla’s elbow. Immediately beneath her lay Willesden,—the most charming and secluded village in the neighbourhood of the metropolis—with its scattered farm-houses, its noble granges, and its old grey church-tower just peeping above a grove of rook-haunted trees. A corner could hold the promise of a shelf of dainty crystals, volcanic ices of rainbow colors, or figurines of saints sculpted from horn and bone reenacting their martyrdoms on delicate miniature wooden stages. The Father did not know of course about her connection with the Valades. “I am sorry for the way I acted, Lucy. " "That's the way it goes. Brendon and I are great chums,” he went on nervously. The Dawn Pearl; how well they had named her! The pearl without price—his and not his! He took her arm and drew it under his; and together they went down the veranda steps.
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