"
Was it a tear that glistened on the maiden's cheek as Montague
Arnold once more contemplated the fair brow and madonna-like eyes?
Marguerite, in her courtly surroundings, was indeed indulging in day
dreams, woven from scenes of her native land. And when she
contrasted the picture with the vague, undefined reality, her
emotional nature was stirred within her, and the gushing tears would
force themselves in spite of all efforts at control. She was longing
for one glimpse of dear old "Gladswood" and the fond embrace of
Cousin Jennie.
"What would I not give to be free from this," murmured the girl
in an undertone; then glancing around she recognized her
brother-in-law, his eyes fixed upon her in close scrutiny.
"Upon my senses, Madge, you look like some one in a dream. I really
might imagine you a piece of rare statuary--one of the Niobe group
strayed from the Florentine gallery to meet the wistful gaze of the
sight-seers of London!"
Marguerite smiled, and the color rose to her cheeks.
"I have dispelled the charm!" cried Montague Arnold, pointing to the
vivid, life-like and roseate hue of the oval face.
"A flirtation, I declare!" said a lady who formed one of the party
for the morning's entertainment.
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