Explore "The Oriel Window" by Mary Louisa Molesworth on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was a Saturday afternoon.
Ferdy, as he lay on his couch in the oriel window, looked out half sadly. The lawn and garden-paths below were thickly strewn with fallen leaves, for the summer was gone -- the long beautiful summer which had seemed as if it were going to stay "for always. " And the autumn was already old enough to make one feel that winter had started on its journey southwards from the icy lands which are its real home.