The Blithedale Romance

There was nothing else worth noticing about the house, unless it be

that on the peak of one of the dormer windows which opened out of the

roof sat a dove, looking very dreary and forlorn; insomuch that I

wondered why she chose to sit there, in the chilly rain, while her

kindred were doubtless nestling in a warm and comfortable dove-cote.

All at once this dove spread her wings, and, launching herself in the

air, came flying so straight across the intervening space, that I fully

expected her to alight directly on my window-sill. In the latter part

of her course, however, she swerved aside, flew upward, and vanished,

as did, likewise, the slight, fantastic pathos with which I had

invested her.