{"product_id":"2940013756199","title":"False Dawn","description":"HAY, verbena and mignonette scented the languid July day. Large\u003cbr\u003estrawberries, crimsoning through sprigs of mint, floated in a bowl of\u003cbr\u003epale yellow cup on the verandah table: an old Georgian bowl, with complex\u003cbr\u003ereflections on polygonal flanks, engraved with the Raycie arms between\u003cbr\u003elions' heads. Now and again the gentlemen, warned by a menacing hum,\u003cbr\u003eslapped their cheeks, their brows or their bald crowns; but they did so\u003cbr\u003eas furtively as possible, for Mr. Halston Raycie, on whose verandah they\u003cbr\u003esat, would not admit that there were mosquitoes at High Point.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe strawberries came from Mr. Raycie's kitchen garden; the Georgian bowl\u003cbr\u003ecame from his great-grandfather (father of the Signer); the verandah was\u003cbr\u003ethat of his country-house, which stood on a height above the Sound, at a\u003cbr\u003econvenient driving distance from his town house in Canal Street.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Another glass, Commodore,\" said Mr. Raycie, shaking out a cambric\u003cbr\u003ehandkerchief the size of a table-cloth, and applying a corner of it to\u003cbr\u003ehis steaming brow.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMr. Jameson Ledgely smiled and took another glass. He was known as \"the\u003cbr\u003eCommodore\" among his intimates because of having been in the Navy in his\u003cbr\u003eyouth, and having taken part, as a midshipman under Admiral Porter, in\u003cbr\u003ethe war of 1812. This jolly sunburnt bachelor, whose face resembled that\u003cbr\u003eof one of the bronze idols he might have brought back with him, had kept\u003cbr\u003ehis naval air, though long retired from the service; and his white duck\u003cbr\u003etrousers, his gold-braided cap and shining teeth, still made him look as\u003cbr\u003eif he might be in command of a frigate. Instead of that, he had just\u003cbr\u003esailed over a party of friends from his own place on the Long Island\u003cbr\u003eshore; and his trim white sloop was now lying in the bay below the point.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Halston Raycie house overlooked a lawn sloping to the Sound. The lawn\u003cbr\u003ewas Mr. Raycie's pride: it was mown with a scythe once a fortnight, and\u003cbr\u003erolled in the spring by an old white horse specially shod for the\u003cbr\u003epurpose. Below the verandah the turf was broken by three round beds of\u003cbr\u003erose-geranium, heliotrope and Bengal roses, which Mrs. Raycie tended in\u003cbr\u003egauntlet gloves, under a small hinged sunshade that folded back on its\u003cbr\u003ecarved ivory handle. The house, remodelled and enlarged by Mr. Raycie on\u003cbr\u003ehis marriage, had played a part in the Revolutionary war as the settler's\u003cbr\u003ecottage were Benedict Arnold had had his headquarters. A contemporary\u003cbr\u003eprint of it hung in Mr. Raycie's study; but no one could have detected\u003cbr\u003ethe humble outline of the old house in the majestic stone-coloured\u003cbr\u003edwelling built of tongued-and-grooved boards, with an angle tower, tall\u003cbr\u003enarrow windows, and a verandah on chamfered posts, that figured so\u003cbr\u003econfidently as a \"Tuscan Villa\" in Downing's \"Landscape Gardening in\u003cbr\u003eAmerica.\" There was the same difference between the rude lithograph of\u003cbr\u003ethe earlier house and the fine steel engraving of its successor (with a\u003cbr\u003e\"specimen\" weeping beech on the lawn) as between the buildings\u003cbr\u003ethemselves. Mr. Raycie had reason to think well of his architect.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe thought well of most things related to himself by ties of blood or\u003cbr\u003einterest. No one had ever been quite sure that he made Mrs. Raycie happy,\u003cbr\u003ebut he was known to have the highest opinion of her. So it was with his\u003cbr\u003edaughters, Sarah Anne and Mary Adeline, fresher replicas of the lymphatic\u003cbr\u003eMrs. Raycie; no one would have sworn that they were quite at ease with\u003cbr\u003etheir genial parent, yet every one knew how loud he was in their praises.\u003cbr\u003eBut the most remarkable object within the range of Mr. Raycie's\u003cbr\u003eself-approval was his son Lewis. And yet, as Jameson Ledgely, who was\u003cbr\u003egiven to speaking his mind, had once observed, you wouldn't have supposed\u003cbr\u003eyoung Lewis was exactly the kind of craft Halston would have turned out\u003cbr\u003eif he'd had the designing of his son and heir.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMr. Raycie was a monumental man. His extent in height, width and\u003cbr\u003ethickness was so nearly the same that whichever way he was turned one had\u003cbr\u003ean almost equally broad view of him; and every inch of that mighty\u003cbr\u003ecircumference was so exquisitely cared for that to a farmer's eye he\u003cbr\u003emight have suggested a great agricultural estate of which not an acre is\u003cbr\u003euntilled. Even his baldness, which was in proportion to the rest, looked\u003cbr\u003eas if it received a special daily polish; and on a hot day his whole\u003cbr\u003eperson was like some wonderful example of the costliest irrigation. There\u003cbr\u003ewas so much of him, and he had so many planes, that it was fascinating to\u003cbr\u003ewatch each runnel of moisture follow its own particular watershed.","brand":"WDS Publishing","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47079661437168,"sku":"2940013756199","price":0.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0737\/7593\/9824\/files\/2940013756199_p0.jpg?v=1763589824","url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/2940013756199","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}