Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: Ill Florida stood a moment, irresolute, on the threshold. The Major was seated in a carved, high-backed chair near the fire, his Homer open before him and a volume of Sir Walter on the table close at hand. There was a look of keen enjoyment upon his fine patrician features, as in martial pomp the old Grecian and Trojan warriors stalked before his fancy. His rare physical beauty seemed heightened by the effect of the room's quaint picturesqueness. It was a charming room to read in, or to dream in, as one might feel inclined; and it was especially inviting this moist April morning, for a light rain was beginning to fall, and the cheerful wood fire on the hearth gave a sense of warmth and comfort not elsewhere to be found. Thepolished andirons winked in the ruddy glow. An aged setter dozed upon the rug. The firelight gleamed upon massive book-cases filled with the works of delightful authors, and upon old silver candelabra and rich brocade hangings. Scattered through the room were many interesting relics suggestive of earlier days; and on the wall there were a number of dim family portraits—portraits, most of them, of distinguished officers in the Revolutionary and the Colonial wars—whose eyes seemed to follow the occupant with such stern, persistent accusation that one felt half-disposed to fall on his knees before them and make a clean breast of all his sins and shortcomings, vowing there and then to renounce these one and all forever, if only their countenances would in some small degree relax. It is not recorded that they ever did relax, perhaps for the reason that no one ever actually made the confession. It may be doubted that one ever, even though willing, tells everything. However, something at least approaching a confession rose, like an offering of incense, before ...