"Mr. Lawson thinks so much of her that I almost love him!" cried she vehemently. "And she is so cute, I'm sure her brother cannot pay such pretty compliments, Madge!"
Marguerite smiled and glanced far away over the distant hills, crowned with trees and foliage already flaunting themselves in holiday attire.
At that moment Phillip Lawson was thinking over a host of compliments, which if repeated would have caused Marguerite Verne's spirituelle face to glow with maiden blushes.
But let us believe—
"One truth is dear, whatever is, is right,"
and leave each to the free range of thought indulged in at the self-same moment.
The lovely views of nature on this lonely morn soon claimed
Marguerite's attention.
"If the world were all so fair! Oh, how charming!" exclaimed the latter rising from her seat and drinking deep of the glowing beauty of hill and dale, beautifully undulating expanse of green carpeted fields lying in the distance, the purple mountain tops glowing with regal splendour and above all the ethereal dome of heavenly blue with fleecy clouds in fantastic shapes and trooping along in gay and festive march across the boundless field.
As the spire of Apohaqui Church gleamed in the distance Jennie caught her companion by the arm exclaiming, "Madge, I cannot realize that we are going to have your dear old self for three long weeks. I hope papa will be at the station to meet us."
"If not what matter; I love to take good long walks."