breast-knot

As she said it, she very slowly detached from her breast-knot the rose which had carried my felicitation, and laid it on the table: and, with that, she walked out, Farrell drawing aside to make way for her.

Foe-Farrell Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch 1903

His eyes had rested confusedly on the breast-knot of scarlet leaves, and it seemed to him, as he rode, that he had seen her heart beating there through her ribs.

Lady Good-for-Nothing Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch 1903

As she drew back that one pace before fleeing, the sun fell full again on that breast-knot of scarlet leaves.

Lady Good-for-Nothing Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch 1903

"Mornin ', Mrs Bosenna -- an' a brave breast-knot you're wearin '!"

Hocken and Hunken Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch 1903

It fitted in lines that melted into curves, had enticements in the shape of a long sash and a dangerous breast-knot of shimmery blue, the color of my eyes, and I looked new-born in it.

The Melting of Molly Maria Thompson Daviess 1898

She had tossed off her pearl necklace and a breast-knot of wilted roses; otherwise, she sat in full evening dress, and the night air bathed her bare neck and arms.

Sisters Ada Cambridge 1885

I was rather puzzled at the sight of a little breast-knot of white chrysanthemums that lay on the table, until I remembered Uncle Max; no one had ever brought me flowers since Charlie's death; he had gathered the last that I ever wore -- some white violets that grew in a little hollow in the ground of Rutherford Lodge.

Uncle Max Rosa Nouchette Carey 1874

Set in the middle of the enchanted water was such a breast-knot of rare, exquisite, uncannily grotesque orchids as no queen or princess had ever been seen to wear in St. Ambrose's.

A Houseful of Girls Sarah Tytler 1870

There was a pink breast-knot to match, and Humfrey's owch just above it, gray stockings, home-spun and worked with elaborate pink clocks, but knitted by Cis herself; and a pair of shoes with pink roses to match were put into a bag, to be assumed when she arrived at the lodge.

Unknown to History: a story of the captivity of Mary of Scotland Charlotte Mary Yonge 1862

When Eustacie walked through them, carrying her little girl in her arms, a rose in her bosom to console her for the loss of her bright breast-knot, they were in raw fresh dreariness, with tottering, blackened cloisters, garden flowers run wild, images that she had never ceased to regard as sacred lying broken and defiled among the grass and weeds.

The Chaplet of Pearls Charlotte Mary Yonge 1862