Explore "The Nether Millstone" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The lights in the great silver candlesticks at the dower house shed a soft radiance over the dinner-table where Lady Dashwood sat alone. It was not yet dark, the saffron glow of the setting sun still struggled with the candles. Most of the dishes had been removed, and little remained but the peaches and the nectarines and the great bloom tinted grapes in the silver baskets.
Lady Dashwood sat there alone. She had peeled one of the russet and golden peaches, but the fragrant luscious fruit lay neglected on her plate. Her mind was far away from her surroundings.