"
Marguerite's voice was clear and bird-like, but Jennie Montgomery
fancied she felt a slight tremor in the last words uttered, and with
that intuitive caution characteristic of her mother pressed the
subject no further, and the warm-hearted maiden felt keenly her
utter helplessness to render her companion any sympathy.
"Let us go in, Cousin Jennie," said Marguerite, in tender tones that
seemed as reproach to the high-minded girl, but she heeded not, and
playfully putting her arm around her companion's waist, led her into
the parlor, where the rest of the family were seated around awaiting
their appearance.
"Marguerite is too proud," murmured Jennie, as she sought her own
room on returning from seeing her fair cousin aboard the down
accommodation train which was to carry her homewards.
"Oh, my loving Marguerite, I know more than you think. I could
indeed tell you much that you little dream of, but why is it
thus?" and humming an old-fashioned air Jennie mechanically went
back to her household duties, as if all the world were sunshine
and brightness, and not a troubled thought had ever found a
resting-place within her mind.
CHAPTER XIV.
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