"I am quite fortunate in meeting you, Mr. Lawson, as I am saved the
trouble of sending a note." Marguerite emphasized the word trouble
in a manner altogether peculiar to herself and a manner which
infected the banister with a certain degree of gaiety that was
unusual to him.
And no wonder that our friend felt the influence of the maiden's
smiles. Marguerite Verne was indeed a pretty picture to study. Her
rich costume of seal brown, plush with ruchings of feathers, the
coquettish hat to match with the jaunty ostrich plume were becoming
in the extreme and gave an air of richness and refined elegance.
"Is it any harm to inquire as to your wishes Miss Marguerite?" said
Phillip, glancing inquisitively into her face.
"I don't think I shall tell you to-day."
There was a look of arch mischief accompanying the words--a spirit
of banter that was truly fascinating.
Phillip had escorted his companion as far as Coburg street, where
the latter was to call upon some of her friends.
"Mr. Lawson, I am not quite so dreadful as you think. Come this
evening and I shall gratify your curiosity at once, and you know
papa always likes to see you."
"I shall go," exclaimed the barrister to himself, as he had turned
down Paddock street on his way homewards.
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