* * * * *
A glorious autumn day in 1886 brings together a joyous and happy
group--the old familiar one. The hostess of the luxurious home is
the wife of Phillip Lawson. Ah! Marguerite you can never lose your
angelic beauty and softness of expression. In the violet eyes there
is a light that sheds a radiance over the little household, and
imparts a warmth to each suffering heart that has been chilled by
contact with the selfish and calculating world.
"Helen you are a darling! you are true blue!" were the words which
greeted the smiling visitor as she pounced in upon the fair young
matron, with the flush of excitement upon her fair, broad forehead
and oval cheeks.
"Girls you look charming! One would think you were expecting your
beaux instead of a few old married men! Why I thought when folks got
married they did not primp at all."
"I'm glad that you are agreeably mistaken, my dear," said Mrs.
Noyes, her charms enhanced by the rich bronze silk de Lyons, that
set off her faultless form to advantage.
Mrs. Arnold now entered, followed by Mrs. Verne and a host of hearty
congratulations were passed around within a very short time.
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