Margie

“ Margie and her young sister Fay were the only really good-looking members of the Grayling family. Margie was tall, like Mattie, but not angular and bony. On the contrary, she had one of those natural, pliant figures upon which almost any sort of dress looks comfortable and becoming, and whose ease and grace of movement seem absolutely spontaneous and unstudied. Fay was more like Lettie, both in face and figure. ”

“ As it was, however, it was such a silly, causeless exhibition of malice, and seemed, to sensible Margie, so unreasonable and childish that she was only amused.
"That's a bit too bad!" said Nicholas. "Anybody can see she's not one of the usual sort. Why, Mab, where are your eyes? Look at her hands and feet. She mayn't be tip-top, but she's not common." ”

“ Margie had been confident, assured in all her motions, and almost impertinent in her glances at those whose disapproval she surmised; Mrs. Bent was humble, even frightened. Margie had never gone to church, but Mrs. Bent took a little side pew in the college church and sat there at each service. To Margie had come some mighty metamorphosis, changing her instincts, changing her very soul, as completely as a human body could have changed its position at a "Right-about face." ”

“ The hot, indignant blood surged into poor Margie's face, and she looked appealingly at her mistress.
"Mabel," said the old lady sternly, "I cannot have you speak thus to any one in my house. And until you have proved, to my entire satisfaction, that Margery is guilty of this crime, you will please be good enough to treat her as the innocent girl I believe her to be."
"She has befooled every one in this house except myself," cried Mabel; "but I am not so easily deceived. I demand that her room shall be searched, every possible hole and corner looked into, and I will abide by the result." ”

“ You have your religion to help you, Margie. Surely that will bear you up! I have heard all you pious people prate enough of its service in time of trouble to remember that consolation."
"Don't, Alexandrine! It is sinful to scorn God's holy religion. Yes, you are right; it will help me. God himself will help me, if I ask him. He knows how much I stand in need of it."
"I am glad you are so likely to be supported," returned the girl, half-earnestly, half-contemptuously. "Are you satisfied in regard to Mr. Archer Trevlyn?"
"I will not credit it!" cried Margie, passionately. ”

“ Margie passed within the inclosure, and stood beside the graves of her parents. She stood a moment silent, motionless; then, forgetful of her bridal garment, she flung herself down on the turf.
"Oh, my father! my father!" she cried, "why did you doom me to such a fate? Why did you ask me to give that fatal promise? Oh, look down from heaven and pity your child!"
The wind sighed mournfully in the cypresses, the belated crickets and katydids droned in the hedge, but no sweet voice of sympathy soothed Margie's strained ear. ”

“ Alexandrine put her hand on the soft hair of the bowed head.
"My poor Margie! it is hard for you. Hark! there is the bell. He has come. Will you not go down?"
"No, no, no! Do what you judge best, and leave me to myself and my God."
Alexandrine went out, and Margie, locking the door after her, flung herself down on the carpet and buried her face in the pillows of the sofa.
Miss Lee swept down the staircase, her dark, bright face resplendent, her bearing haughty as that of an empress. Arch was in the parlor. ”

“ Farewell, now and forever.
"MARGARET HARRISON."
There remained still something more to be done. Margie knew that Archer Trevlyn would seek her out, and demand an explanation from her own lips, and this must never be. She could not see him now; she was not certain that she could ever see him again. She dared not risk the influence his personal presence might have upon her. She must leave New York. But where should she go? ”

“ Trevlyn is coming for you?"
Margie consulted her watch.
"At eight. It is now seven. In an hour."
"In an hour! An hour's time! Long enough to change the destiny of empires!"
"How strangely you talk, Alexandrine! What spirit possesses you?" asked Margie, filled, in spite of herself, with a curious premonition of evil. ”

“ Margie looked back at the door and then up at the man. He was coming very near her, and was staring at her very hard indeed. His clothes were shabby and he had a big black beard, and the basket with the black cover was such a great large one. Margie remembered all the stories she had been told about little girls being stolen away from their homes, and she started to spring to her feet. Then suddenly she remembered what Mamma had told her that morning. "All of God's children love each other." ”

“ Determined to break the awkwardness of the situation, Margie exclaimed:
“If you please, we prefer to be known for ourselves and not as Phil’s and Ted’s sisters. I am Margie and this is Sallie.” And she made a mock courtesy.
“Brava! That’s the way to get on out here,” laughed Mr. Jackson, who had come up just in time to hear Margie’s introduction. Then turning to Mrs. Porter, he added: “We are all like one big family out here. Somehow the woods make us forget ceremony.” ”

“ I will risk everything!" she answered.
Meantime, what of Margie Harrison? Through the dull, stormy day she had been whirled along like the wind. The train was an express, and made few stoppages. Margie took little note of anything which occurred. She sat in her hard seat like one in a trance, and paid no heed to the lapse of time, until the piteous whining of Leo warned her that night was near, and the poor dog was hungry. At the first stopping-place she purchased some bread and meat for him, but nothing for herself. She could not have swallowed a mouthful. ”

“ I am such a poor thing, and so debarred from most means of usefulness, that it would be conferring a favour upon me, if you could let me serve you. Is it a case in which money would be of any service, Margery dear?"
Margie shook her head. "No, thank you, Miss Clara," she replied. "It has nothing to do with money. But I am puzzled to know what to do for the best, or whether I ought to do and say nothing."
CHAPTER IV. PLOTTING AGAINST THE INNOCENT.
NURSE was gone, and Margie fairly established in her place, yet managing to do a great deal besides caring for the invalid. ”

“ The young man laughed, and patted her cheek, as he might have done the head of a dog. "You can be nice if you choose," said he, with tardy, reluctant praise. "The worst of it is that when you're horrid you're so very nasty, and when you're nice, you're so altogether too luscious;" and he ended in a grimace.
Meanwhile, as Margie was sitting in Mrs. Beach's room, the door opened, and a woman entered, dressed in the uniform of a professional nurse, with white apron and cap. ”

“ Perhaps a clerk's in an office."
"And I will help with the parlour-work," said Fay, "and you can dismiss one of the maids. If we all take our share of the duties, we can get along quite well with one servant."
All this time Margie had not spoken. At last she said, "I do not know enough to teach, and if I take up other work I would rather it were not at home. I must think what I can do." ”

“ At twenty he was quite as well educated as nine-tenths of the young men now turned out by our fashionable colleges.
Rumors of Margie Harrison's triumphs reached him constantly, for Margie was a belle and a beauty now. Her parents were dead, and she had been left to the guardianship of Mr. Trevlyn, at whose house she made her home, and where she reigned a very queen. Old Trevlyn's heart at last found something beside his diamonds to worship, and Margie had it all her own way.
She came into the store of Belgrade and Co. one day, and asked to look at some laces. ”

“ The days went on slowly, but they brought something of peace to Margie Harrison. The violence of her distress passed away, and now there was only a dull pain at her heart—a pain that must always have its abode there.
She held no communication with any person in New York, save her aunt, and her business agent, Mr. Farley, and her letters to them were posted in a distant town, in a neighboring State, where Nurse Day had friends—and so Margie's place of refuge was still a secret. ”

“ Margie had often seen her in the house, meeting her on the stairs, and exchanging greetings with her sometimes when they happened to encounter each other in the long corridor. For this passage, passing outside Margie's room, ran by the head of the staircase to the east wing of the house. ”

“ Mrs. Beach rang the bell, and when it was answered by the housemaid, she said, "Send Margery Grayling to me, if Miss Raye can spare her for a few minutes."
Mabel was just going to leave the room, but her aunt said, "Don't go, Mabel. You have been laying this sin to the girl's charge; now you must accuse her to her face. It is only fair to Margery."
"You have more consideration for that shameless creature than for your own niece," said Mabel angrily.
But Mrs. Beach made no answer to this, and after a few minutes' silence, Margie entered. ”

“ There would be no more fitting place for the marriage of their daughter to be solemnized. Margie neither opposed nor approved the plan. She did not oppose anything. She was passive, almost apathetic.
The admiring dressmakers and milliners came and went, fitting, and measuring, and trying on their tasteful creations, but without eliciting any signs of interest or pleasure from Margie Harrison. She gave no orders, found no fault; expressed no admiration nor its opposite. It was all the same to her.
The bridal dress came home a few days before the appointed day. ”

“ So she amused herself very well with Howard Logan; so well, indeed, that her engagement to him was commonly reported. It was not true, of course, but there was little doubt in Margie's mind that her young sister had behaved very wrongly towards both men who loved her; and for Harry's sake especially—good, true-hearted, dear Harry—she felt indignant, and wrote Fay a warm letter of protest, receiving in reply a note which briefly told her to mind her own business and not meddle. ”

“ And he seconded his invitation with a smile so odious in its drunken impudence, that Margie said not one word more, but opened the door and went straight upstairs to Mrs. Beach's boudoir.
Mabel Bap was sitting there with her aunt, and as Margie entered, with flushed cheeks and haughty bearing, the young lady said, "Good gracious, Margery, what's the matter with you? You look like a tragedy queen."
But Margie did not answer her. She turned to Mrs. Beach and said, "If you please, ma'am, will you allow me to bring my sewing into your dressing-room, or to take it to my bedroom? Mr. ”

“ With a great effort Margery resisted the [Pg 33] temptation to ask what "everything" was (a difficult question) , and made a statement of her own.
"Santa Claus bring Margie a balloon from Daddy," she announced.
"A balloon! How jolly!" I said with interest. "What sort are you having? One of those semi-detached ones with the gas laid on, or the pink ones with a velvet collar?"
"Down chimney," said Margery. ”

“ WANTED, by an invalid widow lady, a respectable young person of intelligence and refinement, as attendant. She must have perfect health, pleasant looks, and a good temper. Liberal salary and a comfortable home to a suitable person. Personal interview indispensable.—Apply, Mrs. BEACH, Garden Lodge, River Park, Surrey.
"I may not get the post, but I'll try for it," said Margie to herself.
CHAPTER II. AT GARDEN LODGE.
THE personal interview to which Margie readily consented did more for her than the written character which she had forwarded. ”

“ Margie turned very white, and her face was set and rigid, as she replied, ignoring Mabel entirely, and turning only towards Mrs. Beach, "I have told you the exact truth, ma'am, and I beg you to believe me. I never told a lie in my life."
Mabel started up. "I'll go and ask Nick himself," she said. "I'll soon prove to you, auntie, that this girl has made a false statement." And with a vindictive glance, Mabel Raye departed.
Margie now came nearer to where Mrs. Beach sat. The old lady was apparently in real distress, and the girl felt very sorry for her. ”

“ They're all so insanely fond of her. There must be very clear proof that she is unprincipled, or Aunt and Clara will never part with her."
At last, with a start, her resolution was taken. She went to her dressing-table, and, opening her jewel-case, took out a handsome diamond ring. This she wrapped up in a bit of tissue paper, and taking the little parcel in her hand, she walked across the corridor to Margie's room, which was empty now, and the door standing open.
Mabel stole in. There was light enough, from a lamp outside, to see things pretty clearly. ”

“ Margie went on, in a choked voice. “He’s always asking why he can’t come to see me in my own home. He’s awfully particular and high minded. He hates to meet me on the sly that way. And—”
“I’d let him come, if I were you.”
“I won’t! I’m too much ashamed of us.”
“Couldn’t you make things a little better?” Rose suggested, very gently.
“Bill won’t let me! Bill’s a beast! When mother died, he gave up our dear old house—he’s packed up all her pretty things—they’re in the woodshed, in barrels and boxes. He won’t let me touch them. He says we’ve got to learn to work and to live simply. ”

“ Alexandrine sat down by the side of her friend, and looked searchingly into her face, her great black eyes holding Margie with a sort of serpent-like fascination.
"Margaret, you love this Archer Trevlyn very dearly do you not?"
Margie blushed crimson, but she answered, proudly:
"Why need I be ashamed to confess it? I do. I love him with my whole soul!"
"And you do not think there is in you any possibility of a change?"
"A change! What do you mean? Explain yourself."
"You do not think the time will ever come when you will cease to love Mr. ”