Marguerite Verne; Or, Scenes from Canadian Life Part 16

Marguerite smiled and glanced far away over the distant hills, crowned with trees and foliage already flaunting themselves in holiday attire.

At that moment Phillip Lawson was thinking over a host of compliments, which if repeated would have caused Marguerite Verne's _spirituelle_ face to glow with maiden blushes.

But let us believe--

"One truth is dear, whatever is, is right,"

and leave each to the free range of thought indulged in at the self-same moment.

The lovely views of nature on this lonely morn soon claimed Marguerite's attention.

"If the world were all so fair! Oh, how charming!" exclaimed the latter rising from her seat and drinking deep of the glowing beauty of hill and dale, beautifully undulating expanse of green carpeted fields lying in the distance, the purple mountain tops glowing with regal splendour and above all the ethereal dome of heavenly blue with fleecy clouds in fantastic shapes and trooping along in gay and festive march across the boundless field.

As the spire of Apohaqui Church gleamed in the distance Jennie caught her companion by the arm exclaiming, "Madge, I cannot realize that we are going to have your dear old self for three long weeks. I hope papa will be at the station to meet us."

"If not what matter; I love to take good long walks."

"And so do I, my pretty coz; just wait until I trot you out over the hills and far away," said Jennie, giving her companion a pinch on the ear that caused it to a.s.sume a crimson dye. Suss.e.x Vale, in all its loveliness now came within sight.

"My own, my native land," cried Jennie, in high glee, as she eagerly looked for the guard of honor that would be awaiting the arrival.

"I thought so. Look Madge."

The latter saw a group of merry children, a respectable-looking man, whose good-natured face could belong to none other than Uncle William Montgomery.

"Wasn't it lucky that you came on a Sat.u.r.day, Cousin Marguerite; it is just lovely in the fields now."

The bright-eyed urchin had claimed a seat beside the delighted maiden with all the airs of a gallant, and jealously guarded all access from the other unfortunates.

"Hal is not going to ride beside Cousin Marguerite to-morrow, for I will get in first," whispered a younger lad to his confidante-- Jennie.

"Yes, Jimmie, you shall have fair play. Count on me as your champion," whispered the former in conciliatory tones.

It is needless to speak of the beauty of Suss.e.x Vale. Did ever pa.s.senger travel along the Intercolonial "with soul so dead" as not to be stirred with a sense of the beautiful as he neared this delightful spot.

On this golden May morn Marguerite was indeed intoxicated with delight. But she could not remain in silent admiration, for Master Hal's attentions demanded recognition, and after chatting gaily for half an hour the phaeton deposited its smiling load upon the terrace at "Gladswood."

Truly "Gladswood," for upon every side arose some sight to make glad the heart.

There stood the warm-hearted and energetic mistress, her genuine soul stamped upon every lineament of the plain but inviting face.

"And you did make out to come, Marguerite!" exclaimed Mrs.

Montgomery giving the girl a warm, hearty kiss.

"Yes, we've got her now and the city folks can do without her until we are ready."

At this ambiguous declaration the gallant Hal gave his head a defiant toss and gathering up an array of sundry feminine indispensibles made towards a side entrance where he deposited the said articles.

"Cousin Marguerite come out and see the calves." We have two of the loveliest little creatures with large eyes and such pretty white spots! And you would think they had their foreheads banged!"

"Well, they must be very pretty, Jimmie," said Marguerite, laughing heartily at the lad's description.

"Now children do let Cousin Marguerite have time to draw her breath before you tease her to death about your stock," said Aunt Hester with an amused look upon her face.

"Cousin Marguerite will excuse herself to the company," cried Jennie, motioning Marguerite to follow her and the latter was soon snugly ensconced in the cosiest and most inviting chamber that one ever beheld.

It was not the spare room but a smaller one adjoining that of Cousin Jennie.

The walls, contrary to fas.h.i.+on, were covered with a delicate paper, a white ground sprigged with pale lavender, the paints were pure white and the hangings and draperies were transparent in their whiteness.

The neat furniture was also of a dazzling white relieved by stripes of gold and pale lavender. The old fas.h.i.+oned window was formed in a kind of recess which was filled with pots of the choicest flowers, while just within reach stood a large lilac bush which on the least provocation forced its branches into the room.

"Cousin Jennie, the grandeur of St. John cannot boast of a spot like this. Can it be reality." cried Marguerite, pus.h.i.+ng aside the lilac branches and glancing out upon the enchanting landscape, which gave such effect to the pretty room.

"It is so cool," broke from the girl in rapturous tones as she eyed the bare floor with its coat of soft tinted lavender and deeper shaded border. "You know it would be such a disgraceful thing to have an uncarpeted floor in the city."

The last remark was in tones slightly ironical, and showed that Marguerite Verne held views not in accordance with good form and fearlessly regarded the consequence.

"Of course, mother would not have a carpeted chamber in the summer season, and now, I really like it, but I fear that some of our guests are very often surprised."

It being past the noon dinner-hour a luncheon was prepared and the girls were interrupted by the indefatigable Hal knocking l.u.s.tily on the chamber door.

"Really, Jennie, I would rather sit here than eat," said Marguerite, going to the mirror to re-arrange the ma.s.s of silken hair that crowned her prettily shaped head.

"I am going to take Cousin Marguerite down to luncheon," cried a voice from without.

This set both girls in a fit of laughter.

"You can't say that you did not raise a beau while in the Vale,"

cried Jennie, with a roguish twinkle of her eye.

"Indeed, Cousin Marguerite will hare no city chaps skulkin' 'round while I am here," cried our twelve-year old with all the airs of a dude of twenty.

Next in turn came a tramp around the proud old domain of "Gladswood."

The stately elms seemed to extend a kindly welcome. All nature seemed to say "welcome, to Gladswood." The birds seemed to have been practising some of their latest melodies, for never did grander strains issue from their sylvan orchestra.

How pleasantly the hours glided by in this charming abode. Truly it hath been said--

"How noiseless falls the foot of time That only treads on flowers."

"It is a fortnight to-day since I came to Gladswood," said Marguerite, one bright, sunny afternoon, as she came up the broad avenue, crowned with lovely wild flowers and such trophies as the neighboring wood afforded.

Cousin Jennie had remained at home to a.s.sist in some extra duties, and as she greeted the "spirit of the woods," as she playfully dubbed Marguerite, she was worthy of notice.

A neatly fitting light colored print wrapper, spotless in its purity; a linen collar, fastened by a silver horse shoe pin; a long, plain, white muslin ap.r.o.n; a neat and substantial shoe, tied with black ribbon, and high over all a crowning ma.s.s of purplish black hair, in beautiful and striking contrast.

"You radiant country maid," cried Marguerite, "stand until I admire you awhile."