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Armour, Rebecca Agatha, 1846?-1891

"Marguerite Verne"


"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 Sussex Vale. Did ever
passenger 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.


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