Explore "The Little Colonel: Maid of Honor" by Annie Fellows Johnston on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was mid-afternoon by the old sun-dial that marked the hours in / Warwick Hall garden; a sunny afternoon in May. The usual busy routine of / school work was going on inside the great Hall, but no whisper of it / disturbed the quiet of the sleepy old garden. At intervals the faint / clang of the call-bell, signalling a change of classes, floated through / the open windows, but no buzz of recitations reached the hedge-hidden / path where Betty Lewis sat writing.
The whole picturesque place seemed as still as the palace of the / Sleeping Beauty. Even the peacocks on the terraced river-front stood / motionless, their resplendent tails spread out in the sun; and although / the air was filled with the odor of wild plum blossoms, the breeze that / bore it through the arbor where Betty sat, absorbed in her work, was so / gentle that it scarcely stirred the vines around her.