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Armour, Rebecca Agatha, 1846?-1891

"Marguerite Verne"


"Heaven help me," murmured the girl; "am I always expected to go
through life with my feelings put away far out of sight-far away--
"Deeply buried from human eyes?"
Looking upwards she remained motionless as the marble statue of
Psyche that adorned the recess in which she stood. Then the lips
moved and the words "Put your trust in God," came forth soft and
bewitching as the strain of an aeolian harp, and leaving, as it
were, a holy hushed spell, subduing the soul of her who uttered it.
It was well for Marguerite that she had those precious moments of
communion, and at no other time in her life did she need them more.
They were the only beacon lights to guide her through the
treacherous shoals into which she must inevitably steer her course.
It was with such feelings that the girl stood at the station and
shook each friend by the hand without the least tremor in her voice
or tear in her eye.
It did, indeed, cost a struggle to keep the pallid lips firm as
Marguerite returned her father's parting embrace; but strength had
been given her.
And the manly form beside him, Phillip Lawson, stood unmoved and
erect, his face quiet in expression and not the least betrayal of
the passion within his breast.


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