Marguerite Verne; Or, Scenes from Canadian Life Part 25

"It is ungenerous of mamma to deny me," she thought. But her mother's shallowness was sacred to her innermost thoughts. Much as she desired Mr. Lawson's visit, she offered not a word of complaint, but smilingly said, "Papa, when you see Mr. Lawson please apologize for me and explain matters to your satisfaction as I know that you feel sensitive about it."

"It will all come right soon--perhaps before you leave."

As Marguerite Verne waved her last adieu to her fond parent and received his tender recognition, a second glance convinced her that all was made right, as Phillip Lawson raised his hat and stood with uncovered head until the train was out of sight.

"Crying at last, Madge; I thought you could not bear up much longer," said Mrs. Verne, as she entered the seat with a new novel ready to devour, and smiling and bowing to several pa.s.sengers whom she recognized. But the remarks were lost upon Marguerite. She remained in deep abstraction for some moments, and then regaining consciousness, threw aside the pretty wrap, murmuring--"Papa says it will all come right."

CHAPTER XIX.

GRAt.i.tUDE.

We will now direct attention to our much esteemed friend, Phillip Lawson, who has much to be grateful for. He hourly thanks his Maker for the great mercies received at His hands.

"Let them fall into other hands than mine. It would do no good. Poor wretches, I envy them not their ill-gotten gains. There is a day of reckoning, and may G.o.d cleanse their guilty souls." Such were the lawyer's remarks as he sat alone in his office with a heavy load off his mind.

He had just returned from witnessing Marguerite Verne's departure, and he felt calm and content.

Mr. Verne had accompanied the young man to his door and left with many kind invitations for "Sunnybank."

How comforting was his kind, cheery voice and his parting: "Now don't fail to drop in often, for I shall be very lonely, indeed."

Mr. Verne is a thorough gentleman and true friend, thought Phillip, as he turned over the last half-hour's conversation. "How thoughtful to explain Marguerite's failure to see me last evening." Then a slight frown settled upon the broad brow, showing that some disagreeable subject had in turn claimed the young lawyer's thoughts.

"Perhaps she may be better than I give her credit for. Are there any of us perfect?" Then musing for a few minutes he arose, the poet's words recurring to his mind--

"The best of what we do, and are, Just G.o.d, forgive."

On opening the daily mail the color rose upon Phillip Lawson's cheek, and his fingers became tremulous as he seized a letter showing the unsteady chirography of Hubert Tracy.

"I will never open it," he thought, and instantly the missive lay a ma.s.s of shreds in the waste basket. "'Out of evil good may come.'

Hubert Tracy has taught me to be more grateful to the G.o.d who has done so much for me."

"Keep your temper, old boy," murmured the young man afresh as his eyes ran over the next letter--one dated from Winnipeg.

"To the flames I consign thee", said he, lighting a match and holding the provoking article over it until it was consumed.

"Halloo! I smell brimstone here. Suppose you're practising so it won't be so hard on you when the time comes?" cried a genial, hearty voice from the open door.

"Glad to see you, Mr. Montgomery," said the occupant, offering a seat to his visitor.

"How are all my friends at 'Gladswood'?"

"Have hardly time to tell you, for I'm in a hurry. I promised to meet several of the sports at Breeze's Corner. We are going out to Moosepath: but this will explain everything, and more too," cried Mr. Montgomery, producing a neat-looking note, and pa.s.sing it to the young lawyer, making a hasty exit to meet said hors.e.m.e.n friends from Suss.e.x and the city.

"I shall go to-morrow and stay over Sunday, at any rate," said Mr.

Lawson to himself when he had gleaned the contents Of Jennie Montgomery's note.

It was just what was necessary to the lawyer's existence. A day or two at "Gladswood" was panacea for almost any ill that flesh was heir to.

The self-reliant matron, with her healthful, stimulating advice, and the bright, merry-hearted girl with her vigorous and true resolve, were indeed incentives of good, and none could fully realize the fact more than the young lawyer. He always went away from "Gladswood" with a high and lofty purpose and firm resolve to tread the path of duty.

And this occasion proved no exception.

Jennie Montgomery's happy face would put to shame the most inveterate grumbler. Her buoyant spirits were infectious. Her ringing, merry laugh was cheering to the highest degree.

The sprightly maiden in her neat muslin frock and broad hat trimmed with freshly-plucked marguerites was a fit model of the fair daughters of Kings County, and it was no wonder that many of the villagers predicted that "the young gentleman from the city must surely be payin' attention to Miss Montgomery."

Three days at "Gladswood"! What a world of thought it conveys-- three days to revel among the beautiful glades and linger among the bewitching groves of graceful elm and ta.s.selled pine! to hear the lowing of herds and the music of the winged songsters blended in one exquisite harmony.

Yes, devotees of the world, who build upon the style of your neighbor's dress or equipage and trifle away G.o.d's precious moments in silly show and vain trumpery, go to the retreats at "Gladswood,"

follow Phillip Lawson in his daily rounds, and if you will not, like him, feel your heart expand and seek aspirations of a higher mould-- a something which gives comfort each breath you draw, each word you utter and each thought you frame!--then, we will make bold to say, your heart is irrevocably sealed beyond recall.

Cousin Jennie was shrewd and witty. She knew how to act that she might afford the least embarra.s.sment to her guest.

For hours her guest was allowed to roam at his own desire, and felt not the pressure of conventional restriction.

Mr. Lawson was gallant in the true sense of the word, but he was no empty-headed fop, paying that amount of overdue attention to the fair, which, at times, becomes a bore and a pest.

It had been arranged that a small pic-nic party should relieve the quiet of the third day, and a jolly pic-nic it was. There was mirth enough to last for a month. Jennie's companions had mustered _en ma.s.se_. Groups of merry, rollicking youths and bright-eyed maidens lent a charm to the scene, and reminded one of the revels held in cla.s.sic groves, when each sylvan deity, at a blast of her silver horn, made the wood resound with the voices of her myriads of subjects.

As the sayings and doings of all pic-nics are much in common it would be wasting time to describe the one at "Gladswood."

"All went merry as a marriage bell."

The sun was sinking in the west in all its glory--a blaze of living gold. The purple tops of the distant hills were enchanting and stood as huge sentinels of the scene below.

"Come here, Mr. Lawson," cried Jennie Montgomery, in breathless suspense. "Is not that grand? This is a sight I have been wis.h.i.+ng for. Just look."

Mr. Lawson was truly a lover of nature, and his profound admiration excited her.

"I never stand here without thinking of Marguerite," exclaimed the girl, vehemently; "she would sit upon that bowlder and gaze around until I would think that she had lost her senses. I believe if any being has a soul for the beautiful it is cousin Marguerite."

The young man looked down from his proud eminence and encountered the fixed gaze of his companion. That look gave anxiety. A painful silence was the only reply, and both gazed upon the panorama before them for fully five minutes before the girl spoke.

"I can never forgive my cousin Evelyn for forcing Madge away. We all knew it was against her wishes that she went."

How comforting those words to Phillip Lawson's ear.

"Mr. Lawson," said Jennie, coming close to his side, "I am not going to hide my feelings any longer. You are a very dear friend and must have my confidence."

The young man's looks were proof of the girl's words. His face reflected thought sublime as Aeschylus, beautiful as Sophocles, and pathetic as Euripides!

"Thank you, Jennie," was the reply, and the eyes had a far-off look that went to the girl's heart.

"You are going to-morrow, Mr. Lawson, and I may not have another such opportunity."