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83 pages

English

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Immerse yourself in this captivating romance from the author of Anne of Green Gables. Young teacher Eric Marshall is granted a position on Prince Edward Island and falls in love with a beautiful, mysterious girl named Kilmeny, who is unable to speak. Although she comes to feel the same way about Eric, Kilmeny refuses his advances, wanting to spare him the difficulty of spending a lifetime with a wife who is less than perfect. Will the young lovers find a way around this obstacle?

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Romance

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Publié par	The Floating Press
Date de parution	01 février 2012
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781775456780
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0134€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

KILMENY OF THE ORCHARD
* * *
LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY

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Kilmeny of the Orchard First published in 1910 ISBN 978-1-77545-678-0 © 2012 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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Chapter I - The Thoughts of Youth Chapter II - A Letter of Destiny Chapter III - The Master of Lindsay School Chapter IV - A Tea Table Conversation Chapter V - A Phantom of Delight Chapter VI - The Story of Kilmeny Chapter VII - A Rose of Womanhood Chapter VIII - At the Gate of Eden Chapter IX - The Straight Simplicity of Eve Chapter X - A Troubling of the Waters Chapter XI - A Lover and His Lass Chapter XII - A Prisoner of Love Chapter XIII - A Sweeter Woman Ne'er Drew Breath Chapter XIV - In Her Selfless Mood Chapter XV - An Old, Unhappy, Far-Off Thing Chapter XVI - David Baker's Opinion Chapter XVII - A Broken Fetter Chapter XVIII - Neil Gordon Solves His Own Problem Chapter XIX - Victor from Vanquished Issues
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TO MY COUSIN Beatrice A. McIntyre THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED
"Kilmeny looked up with a lovely grace, But nae smile was seen on Kilmeny's face; As still was her look, and as still was her ee, As the stillness that lay on the emerant lea, Or the mist that sleeps on a waveless sea. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Such beauty bard may never declare, For there was no pride nor passion there; . . . . . . . . . . . . . Her seymar was the lily flower, And her cheek the moss-rose in the shower; And her voice like the distant melodye That floats along the twilight sea."
— The Queen's Wake JAMES HOGG
Chapter I - The Thoughts of Youth
*
The sunshine of a day in early spring, honey pale and honeysweet, was showering over the red brick buildings of QueensleaCollege and the grounds about them, throwing through the bare,budding maples and elms, delicate, evasive etchings of gold andbrown on the paths, and coaxing into life the daffodils that werepeering greenly and perkily up under the windows of the co-eds'dressing-room.
A young April wind, as fresh and sweet as if it had been blowingover the fields of memory instead of through dingy streets, waspurring in the tree-tops and whipping the loose tendrils of theivy network which covered the front of the main building. It wasa wind that sang of many things, but what it sang to eachlistener was only what was in that listener's heart. To thecollege students who had just been capped and diplomad by "OldCharlie," the grave president of Queenslea, in the presence of anadmiring throng of parents and sisters, sweethearts and friends,it sang, perchance, of glad hope and shining success and highachievement. It sang of the dreams of youth that may never bequite fulfilled, but are well worth the dreaming for all that.God help the man who has never known such dreams—who, as heleaves his alma mater, is not already rich in aerial castles, theproprietor of many a spacious estate in Spain. He has missed hisbirthright.
The crowd streamed out of the entrance hall and scattered overthe campus, fraying off into the many streets beyond. EricMarshall and David Baker walked away together. The former hadgraduated in Arts that day at the head of his class; the latterhad come to see the graduation, nearly bursting with pride inEric's success.
Between these two was an old and tried and enduring friendship,although David was ten years older than Eric, as the mere tale ofyears goes, and a hundred years older in knowledge of thestruggles and difficulties of life which age a man far morequickly and effectually than the passing of time.
Physically the two men bore no resemblance to one another,although they were second cousins. Eric Marshall, tall,broad-shouldered, sinewy, walking with a free, easy stride, whichwas somehow suggestive of reserve strength and power, was one ofthose men regarding whom less-favoured mortals are temptedseriously to wonder why all the gifts of fortune should beshowered on one individual. He was not only clever and good tolook upon, but he possessed that indefinable charm of personalitywhich is quite independent of physical beauty or mental ability.He had steady, grayish-blue eyes, dark chestnut hair with a glintof gold in its waves when the sunlight struck it, and a chin thatgave the world assurance of a chin. He was a rich man's son,with a clean young manhood behind him and splendid prospectsbefore him. He was considered a practical sort of fellow,utterly guiltless of romantic dreams and visions of any sort.
"I am afraid Eric Marshall will never do one quixotic thing,"said a Queenslea professor, who had a habit of uttering rathermysterious epigrams, "but if he ever does it will supply the onething lacking in him."
David Baker was a short, stocky fellow with an ugly, irregular,charming face; his eyes were brown and keen and secretive; hismouth had a comical twist which became sarcastic, or teasing, orwinning, as he willed. His voice was generally as soft andmusical as a woman's; but some few who had seen David Bakerrighteously angry and heard the tones which then issued from hislips were in no hurry to have the experience repeated.
He was a doctor—a specialist in troubles of the throat andvoice—and he was beginning to have a national reputation. Hewas on the staff of the Queenslea Medical College and it waswhispered that before long he would be called to fill animportant vacancy at McGill.
He had won his way to success through difficulties and drawbackswhich would have daunted most men. In the year Eric was bornDavid Baker was an errand boy in the big department store ofMarshall & Company. Thirteen years later he graduated with highhonors from Queenslea Medical College. Mr. Marshall had givenhim all the help which David's sturdy pride could be induced toaccept, and now he insisted on sending the young man abroad for apost-graduate course in London and Germany. David Baker hadeventually repaid every cent Mr. Marshall had expended on him;but he never ceased to cherish a passionate gratitude to the kindand generous man; and he loved that man's son with a lovesurpassing that of brothers.
He had followed Eric's college course with keen, watchfulinterest. It was his wish that Eric should take up the study oflaw or medicine now that he was through Arts; and he was greatlydisappointed that Eric should have finally made up his mind to gointo business with his father.
"It's a clean waste of your talents," he grumbled, as they walkedhome from the college. "You'd win fame and distinction in law—that glib tongue of yours was meant for a lawyer and it is sheerflying in the face of Providence to devote it to commercialuses—a flat crossing of the purposes of destiny. Where is yourambition, man?"
"In the right place," answered Eric, with his ready laugh. "Itis not your kind, perhaps, but there is room and need for allkinds in this lusty young country of ours. Yes, I am going intothe business. In the first place, it has been father's cherisheddesire ever since I was born, and it would hurt him pretty badlyif I backed out now. He wished me to take an Arts course becausehe believed that every man should have as liberal an education ashe can afford to get, but now that I have had it he wants me inthe firm."
"He wouldn't oppose you if he thought you really wanted to go infor something else."
"Not he. But I don't really want to—that's the point, David,man. You hate a business life so much yourself that you can'tget it into your blessed noddle that another man might like it.There are many lawyers in the world—too many, perhaps—but thereare never too many good honest men of business, ready to do cleanbig things for the betterment of humanity and the upbuilding oftheir country, to plan great enterprises and carry them throughwith brain and courage, to manage and control, to aim high andstrike one's aim. There, I'm waxing eloquent, so I'd betterstop. But ambition, man! Why, I'm full of it—it's bubbling inevery pore of me. I mean to make the department store ofMarshall & Company famous from ocean to ocean. Father started inlife as a poor boy from a Nova Scotian farm. He has built up abusiness that has a provincial reputation. I mean to carry iton. In five years it shall have a maritime reputation, in ten, aCanadian. I want to make the firm of Marshall & Company standfor something big in the commercial interests of Canada. Isn'tthat as honourable an ambition as trying to make black seem whitein a court of law, or discovering some new disease with aharrowing name to torment poor creatures who might otherwise diepeacefully in blissful ignorance of what ailed them?"
"When you begin to make poor jokes it is time to stop arguingwith you," said David, with a shrug of his fat shoulders. "Goyour own gait and dree your own weird. I'd as soon expectsuccess in trying to storm the citadel single-handed as in tryingto turn you from any course about which you had once made up yourmind. Whew, this street takes it out of a fellow! What couldhave possessed our ancestors to run a town up the side of a hill?I'm not so slim and active as I was on MY graduation day tenyears ago. By the way, what a lot of co-eds were in yourclass—twenty, if I counted right. When I graduated there wereonly two ladies in our class and they were the pioneers of theirsex at Queenslea. They were well past their first youth, verygrim and angular and serious; and they could never have been onspeaking terms with a mirror in their best days. But mark you,they were excellent females—oh, very exce