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Yonge, Charlotte Mary, 1823-1901

"The Dove in the Eagle's Nest"

Her cheeks
flamed, as she sat alone, with the very thought, and the next time
she heard the well-known tread on the stair, she fled hastily into
her own turret chamber, and shut the door. Her heart beat fast. She
could hear Sir Eberhard moving about the room, and listened to his
heavy sigh as he threw himself into the large chair. Presently he
called her by name, and she felt it needful to open her door and
answer, respectfully,
"What would you, my lord?"
"What would I? A little peace, and heed to her who is gone. To see
my father and mother one would think that a partridge had but flown
away. I have seen my father more sorrowful when his dog had fallen
over the abyss."
"Mayhap there is more sorrow for a brute that cannot live again,"
said Christina. "Our bird has her nest by an Altar that is lovelier
and brighter than even our Dome Kirk will ever be."
"Sit down, Christina," he said, dragging a chair nearer the hearth.
"My heart is sore, and I cannot bear the din below. Tell me where my
bird is flown."
"Ah! sir; pardon me.


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