Her eyes were attracted towards a handsome volume that lay upon the
sofa. Its rich cream and gold binding giving a pretty contrast to
the elegant upholstering of the said article.
The first words that claimed the girls attention ran:
"Wake maid of Love! the moments fly
Which yet, that maiden-name allow;
Wake, maiden, wake! the hour is nigh
When Love shall claim a plighted vow."
Hitherto Scott had been one of Marguerite's favorite authors, but
now she threw down the book as if stung by an adder. Her blood was
chilled in her veins, and she seemed as if petrified.
It were well that Jennie Montgomery was busily engaged looking over
the broad rows of bookshelves in quest of some thing suitable to her
fancy.
It was also well that she found the desired volume and had
comfortably seated herself for a good long read.
Cousin Jennie might well be termed a book-worm, for, notwithstanding
the fact that she was a clever housekeeper, an industrious handmaid
and a skilful needlewoman, no girl had, considering her advantages,
been a more extensive reader. She was conversant with many of the
standard authors, could discuss freely upon the most abstruse
subjects and also kept herself well posted in all the leading events
of the day, a fact which goes to prove that there is no woman no
matter in what circumstances, but can, if inclined, give some
attention to the improvement of the mind, and make herself a fairly
intellectual being.
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