A year of habitation induced her to conceal her dislike of the place in love: cat's love, she owned.

Here, she confessed to Diana, she would wish to live to her end.

It seemed remote, where an invigorating upper air gave new bloom to her cheeks; but she kept one secret from her friend.
Copsley was an estate of nearly twelve hundred acres, extending across the ridge of the hills to the slopes North and South.

Seven counties rolled their backs under this commanding height, and it would have tasked a pigeon to fly within an hour the stretch of country visible at the Copsley windows.

Sunrise to right, sunset leftward, the borders of the grounds held both flaming horizons.