{"product_id":"2940151612623","title":"The House of the Whispering Pines, A Caleb Sweetwater Mystery Novel","description":"To have reared a towering scheme\u003cbr\u003eOf happiness, and to behold it razed,\u003cbr\u003eWere nothing: all men hope, and see their hopes\u003cbr\u003eFrustrate, and grieve awhile, and hope anew;\u003cbr\u003eBut—\u003cbr\u003eA Blot in the 'Scutcheon.\u003cbr\u003eThe moon rode high; but ominous clouds were rushing towards it—clouds heavy with snow. I watched these clouds as I drove recklessly, desperately, over the winter roads. I had just missed the desire of my life, the one precious treasure which I coveted with my whole undisciplined heart, and not being what you call a man of self-restraint, I was chafed by my defeat far beyond the bounds I have usually set for myself.\u003cbr\u003eThe moon—with the wild skurry of clouds hastening to blot it out of sight—seemed to mirror the chaos threatening my better impulses; and, idly keeping it in view, I rode on, hardly conscious of my course till the rapid recurrence of several well-known landmarks warned me that I had taken the longest route home, and that in another moment I should be skirting the grounds of The Whispering Pines, our country clubhouse. I had taken? Let me rather say, my horse; for he and I had traversed this road many times together, and he had no means of knowing that the season was over and the club-house closed. I did not think of it myself at the moment, and was recklessly questioning whether I should not drive in and end my disappointment in a wild carouse, when, the great stack of chimneys coming suddenly into view against the broad disk of the still unclouded moon, I perceived a thin trail of smoke soaring up from their midst and realised, with a shock, that there should be no such sign of life in a house I myself had closed, locked, and barred that very day.\u003cbr\u003eI was the president of the club and felt responsible. Pausing only long enough to make sure that I had yielded to no delusion, and that fire of some kind was burning on one of the club-house's deserted hearths, I turned in at the lower gateway. For reasons which I need not now state, there were no bells attached to my cutter and consequently my approach was noiseless. I was careful that it should be so, also careful to stop short of the front door and leave my horse and sleigh in the black depths of the pine-grove pressing up to the walls on either side. I was sure that all was not as it should be inside these walls, but, as God lives, I had no idea what was amiss or how deeply my own destiny was involved in the step I was about to take.","brand":"Shepperd Classics","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47110545506544,"sku":"2940151612623","price":0.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0737\/7593\/9824\/files\/2940151612623_p0.jpg?v=1764012322","url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/2940151612623","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}