Explore "Olivia" by Charles Garvice on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was in the "merry month" of May, the "beautiful harbinger of summer," as the poets call it; and one of those charming east winds which render England such a delightful place of residence for the delicate and consumptive, and are truly a boon and a blessing to the doctors and undertakers, was blowing gaily through one of the lovely villages of Devonshire, and insidiously stealing through the half opened French windows of the drawing-room of Hawkwood Grange.
Three persons were seated in this drawing-room. An old gentleman, a lady -- who would have had a fit on the spot if any one had called her old -- and a young girl.