"
As the important missive is on its way across the broad waters of
the Atlantic, let us take the liberty of intruding upon the privacy
of the mother and daughter who are still occupying their handsome
suite of apartments in Picadilly Square.
Marguerite had returned from "Ivy Cottage," the pretty little home
of the Stanhope family, feeling much stronger and looking brighter
and more cheerful.
"Mamma," exclaimed the girl looking intently into the handsome face.
"I have been thinking so much of home lately that it seems as if I
had room for no other thoughts, and, oh, you cannot imagine how much
I want to see papa."
Marguerite made a striking picture reclining beside her mother, and
one arm resting on her knee. Her delicate morning wrapper lay in
graceful folds around her, and reminded one of the draperies of a
Venus de Medici.
What a world of expression was in the violet eyes as they pleaded
for the return to the dreary cheerless home. What a depth of meaning
lay in the purely oval face so beautifully defined in every
lineament. What nature could withstand Marguerite Verne's
entreaties?
"My dear, I am thinking just as much about home as you are, but I
keep it to myself.
Pages:
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347