But it matters not. Marguerite is not a
hypocrite. She pities from the bottom of her heart the woman who
will wed an unprincipled man like Montague Arnold.
How her tender pitying nature went out to the first-born of the
family but the girl knew well the stubborn haughty spirit and looked
calmly on without reproach.
Mrs. Verne had accomplished much in her own eyes. Her daughter was
to revel in the comforts and elegancies of life. And when once the
grand event had taken place she would have further opportunity to
turn her attention to Marguerite. "I must get rid of Evelyn first,"
was her comment as she bent over a piece of embroidery designed for
a mantle drapery--bunches of delicate ferns and golden rod on garnet
plush, and intended for the home of the future Mrs. Montague Arnold.
But there was one who took a different view of the matter. Mr.
Verne looked on in grave disquietude. It may be sacrilegious but we
cannot refrain from intruding upon his inmost thoughts and with
heartfelt sympathy grieve for the indulgent parent who sees his fair
first-born sacrificed to the world and mammon. The man of far-seeing
penetration knows too well the great mistake and with painful
intensity contrasts the sweet girlish wife of his youth with the
fashionable woman of the world who presides supreme over his
household--he sighs deeply and plunges deeper into the ponderous
folios before him.
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