She stood still in the road, staring after him with parted lips.

The baby wailed softly, and she hushed it mechanically, her great, happy, startled eyes fixed upon her brother.
Barnabas went on up the hill to Charlotte Barnard's.

The spring was advancing.

All the trees were full of that green nebula of life which comes before the blossom.

Little wings, bearing birds and songs, cut the air.