Marguerite Verne | Page 9

were scattered
to the winds, and he turned once more to the lofty aspirations of his
intellectual nature for refuge.
Let us explain:
It is the hour of twilight, and the streets have an air of desertion. The
people of fashion that are daily to be seen on King and Prince William
streets have retired within their palatial residences, and none are abroad
except an occasional man of business, with wearied and abstracted air,
soon to find rest in the bosom of his family. Suddenly a handsome
turnout claims our attention, and instantly the driver assists a lady to
alight. She is dressed in costly furs and velvet, and her haughty mien
shows that her associations and preferences are with the patrician side
of nature.
"Will you come in, too, Rania? I need not ask Marguerite, lest she
might miss a chance of seeing 'Farmer Phil' and lose effervescence of
the hayseed. Do you know he is always associated, in my mind, with
homespun and hayseed."
Evelyn Verne laughed at the cleverness of her remark, and adjusting
her mantle entered a publisher's establishment, followed by the said
Rania Lister.
"Homespun and hayseed," muttered a muffled figure as he stood in the
recess of a doorway, from which situation he could see each occupant
of the sleigh and hear every syllable that was uttered.
"Homespun and hayseed! ah! my proud beauty, the effervescence of

hayseed is less noxious than the stench odors inhaled from dissipation
and vice, notwithstanding the fact that they are perfumed over with all
the garish compliments and conventional gallantries that society
demands."
Phillip Lawson had a highly-wrought imaginative temperament. He had
not heard more than those few words, but his mind was quick to take in
the whole situation. He could hear the lengthy speeches of ridicule and
sarcasm aimed at him from every possible standpoint, and he felt the
more determined to live down the scathing thoughts. The man did not
hear the reply by Marguerite Verne to her arrogant sister, but he calmly
and slowly repeated the words--"God bless you, noble girl!" He still
had faith in the purity of her mind, and would have given much to be
able to convince her of the fact.
It did, indeed, seem a coincidence that the moment Phillip Lawson
uttered the words above quoted, an almost perfect repetition found their
way into Marguerite's heart, and left a deep impression which all the
taunts of the subtle Evelyn could not shake off. Nor did it seem strange
to her when she fancied that a figure, on the opposite side of the street,
hurrying along at a rapid pace could be none other than the subject of
her thoughts.
* * * * *
"A delightful evening, indeed. It is almost too fine to remain indoors."
The speaker is none other than Mr. Lawson. He is looking his best in
the neatly-fitting dress suit, with all the little make-ups necessary to
complete a gentleman's evening costume, and while he leisurely
surveys the groups of pretty faces on every side, is also engaged in
entertaining a bewitching little brunette, charmingly attired in cream
veiling and lace, with clusters of lovely damask roses to enhance the
brilliancy of her complexion.
The scene was truly intoxicating. Mrs. Holman, the fashionable belle of
society and wife of one of the leading physicians of the city, was
entertaining a brilliant assemblage of the elite. The informal

announcement of her grand "at home" had kept society in a delightful
state of anticipation for the past ten days, and reality was indeed equal
to all that could be devised. The grand drawing-room, furnished with
regard to the beautiful in art, was certainly a fit receptacle for such an
array of beauty and grace. There was the exquisite blonde, with face of
angelic purity; next came the imperial Cleopatras, with their dusky
grandeur of style rivalling that of empresses; and conspicuous among
the latter was Evelyn Verne. Her amber-satin robes revealed the fact
that she was an adept in the art of dress, and spared no pains to display
the beautifully-rounded form and graceful carriage as she whirled
through the mazes of the waltz, with Montague Arnold as partner. The
latter was indeed a handsome man--one that is sure to attract a
fashionable woman. There is a sarcastic expression lurking around the
well-formed mouth, that has not, to the intelligent mind, a wholesome
tendency; but then there is such a dash of style, and an amount of gay
and charming sentiment in every word, that the resistless Montague
Arnold finds himself an important adjunct to every gathering
representing wealth and prestige.
To an ordinary observer the contrast between Phillip Lawson and the
acknowledged beau of society never appeared more striking, and many
would exclaim, "Well, Lawson is a very