Margie's venture

by Mary E. Ropes

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. But her complexion was clear and bright, her hair a pretty blonde shade, instead of dead tow-colour; her eyes had none of the sleepy languor, and her figure, though plump, none of the lumpiness which spoiled Lettie's looks.

"My dear," remonstrated Mrs. Grayling, with a dark solemnity which was in marked contrast to Margie's cheerful manner, "you should be the last to say there are no gentlemen whom you could marry. I know of two who would be thankful to have you, only that you are so dreadfully fastidious."

Margie's face became grave all of a sudden; her laughing grey eyes grew thoughtful, and her pleasant mouth assumed an expression almost grim in its determination.

"If you mean Sir Peter Brooks and Mr. Elmes," said the girl, "I—"

"Why, of course I mean them," replied the mother quickly. "And only think what a marriage with one of them would mean! A comfortable, nay, a luxurious home, an indulgent husband, and all the pleasures that money and position can give."

"Sir Peter is an old dear!" responded the girl warmly. "There's nothing I would not do for Sir Peter except marry him. As for Mr. Elmes, he is a vulgar, purse-proud snob, with a large family of horrid grown-up children. No, thank you, mother; I'd rather be an old maid."

"You children think only of yourselves," sighed Mrs. Grayling, putting on her most fretful and disconsolate face. "You never consider me and all my troubles and worries, or how you can help me in these straits I am come to."

"I do not think we quite deserve your reproaches, mother," said Mattie, folding the letter; "there is not one of us who is not willing to do our utmost to lessen the burden upon you. I am the eldest, and I will make the first proposal. Let Fan and Eva come home, and I will teach them myself; that will save a hundred a year, will it not?"

"There's not much I can do, for I only understand one thing," said Lettie; "but I am willing to do that. Send our cook away, mother, and I will cook for the family. That will save twenty-five pounds at least."

"And I'll give up all thought of going to college," said Nat, the youth, who had not yet spoken. "I will try for a situation somewhere. Perhaps a clerk's in an office."