Three Margarets

Three Margarets, by Laura E. Richards

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Title: Three Margarets
Author: Laura E. Richards
Illustrator: Ethelred B. Barry
Release Date: August 10, 2007 [EBook #22293]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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[Illustration: UNCLE JOHN AND THE YOUNG CUBANS.]
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BOOKS FOR GIRLS By Laura E. Richards
The MARGARET SERIES
Three Margarets Margaret Montfort Peggy Rita Fernley House
The HILDEGARDE SERIES
Queen Hildegarde Hildegarde's Holiday Hildegarde's Home Hildegarde's Neighbors Hildegarde's Harvest
DANA ESTES & COMPANY Publishers Estes Press, Summer St., Boston
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THREE MARGARETS
By LAURA E. RICHARDS
Author Of "Captain January," "Melody," "Queen Hildegarde," Etc.
Illustrated by ETHELRED B. BARRY
Boston Dana Estes & Company Publishers
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Copyright, 1897 By Estes and Lauriat
Colonial Press: Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. Boston, Mass., U. S. A.
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CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. The Arrival 9 II. First Thoughts 21 III. The White Lady of Fernley 36 IV. Confidence 51 V. The Peat-bog 65 VI. The Family Chest 81 VII. The Garret 98 VIII. Cuba Libre 115 IX. Day by Day 131 X. Looking Backward 147 XI. Heroes and Heroines 163 XII. In the Saddle 187 XIII. In the Night 208 XIV. Explanations 220 XV. Farewell 237
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LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE
Uncle John and the Young Cubans Frontispiece Aunt Faith's Room 43 Peggy at the Bog 73 In the Garret 105 "Cuba Libre" 125 Peggy Writes Home 143 Horseback 201 Rita's Apology 227
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THREE MARGARETS.
CHAPTER I.
THE ARRIVAL.
Long ago and long ago, And long ago still, There dwelt three merry maidens Upon a distant hill.
Christina G. Rossetti.
The rain was falling fast. It was a pleasant summer rain that plashed gently on the leaves of the great elms and locusts, and tinkled musically in the roadside puddles. Less musical was its sound as it drummed on the top of the great landau which was rolling along the avenue leading to Fernley House; but the occupants of the carriage paid little attention to it, each being buried in her own thoughts. The night was dark, and the carriage-lamps threw an uncertain gleam on the three figures leaning back in their corners, muffled and silent. The avenue was long,--interminably long, it seemed to one of the three travellers; and finally the silence so oppressed her that she determined to conquer her shyness and break it.
"What a very long avenue!" she said, speaking in a low, sweet voice.
There was no reply. She hesitated a moment, and then added timidly, "Don't you think that, as we are cousins, we might introduce ourselves and make acquaintance? My name is Margaret Montfort."
"Why, so is mine!" exclaimed the traveller opposite her. "And mine!" added the third, from the further corner.
The voice of the second speaker sounded as if it might be hearty, and as if only awkwardness gave it a sullen tone. The third spoke with a soft, languid utterance and the faintest shade of a foreign accent.
"How strange!" exclaimed the first Margaret Montfort. "Of course I knew that we had the same surname, as our fathers were brothers; but that we should all three be named--and yet it is not strange, after all!" she added. "Our grandmother was Margaret, and it was natural that we should be given her name. But how shall we manage? We cannot say First, Second, and Third Margaret, as they do on the stage."
"I am never called anything but Peggy," said the second girl, still in a half-sullen, half-timid tone.
And "My home name is Rita," murmured the third reluctantly; and she added something in an undertone about "short acquaintance," which the first Margaret did not choose to hear.
"Oh, how pretty!" she said cordially. "Then I may call you Peggy and Rita? About myself"--she stopped and laughed--"I hardly know what to say, for I have always been called Margaret, since I was a baby."
"But one of us might as well be Margaret," answered Peggy. "And somehow, your voice sounds as if you looked like it. If this road were ever coming to an end, we might see."
"Oh, I do see!" cried Margaret, leaning forward to look out of the window. "I see the lights! I see the house! We are really here at last!"
As she spoke, the carriage drove up before a long building twinkling with lights, and stopped at a broad flight of steps, leading to a stone-paved veranda. As the coachman opened the carriage-door, the door of the house opened too, and a cheerful light streamed out upon the three weary travellers. Two staid waiting-women, in spotless caps and aprons, were waiting to receive them as they came