The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1871-12-23

face and blue eyes went straight to he
heart" she said.
She took her into the company room,
the pride of her heart, which adjoined the
sitting room, and, giving her water to battle
her face, went back to the parlor again
Somehow, the sound of happy voices in the
next room made Margie more lonely ant
wretched than she had ever been in hel
life. Great tears passed into the basin o.
water all at once, and, though she trieG
with all her might, she could not stop cry
ing. Three times she went back to wash
off the traces of weeping, and at last, wher
she thought her cheeks were dry, and she
began to arrange her hair before the mus
lin-draped looking glass, the very first
glimpse of her piteous face made her tears
flow faster than ever for very pity of her.
self. "Poor little me! poor little men' she
felt like saying, just as she used to say
when she was a tiny child, and wanted hel
sweet mother to pity and kiss her. That
thought brought the tears quickly again,
and Margie was just about to put her head
down on the little toitet-table and give way
to burst of passionate, despairing sobs,
when sound in the next room attracted
her attention, and made her stop crying to
listen.
Emmie's voice exclaimed, "Girls, please
be quiet! Leslie and Mr.. Winston are call
ing u.s."
Emmie apparently went to the door to
hear what they said, and murmured con-
versation between her and the gentlemen
followed. Then Margie heard again,
eyes, we viii! be ready in fifteen minutes,
or five, if you say so. What did you say,
Mr.. Winston? Oh, certainly there be room
enough. l am so glad you mentioned it
But you know the stage isn't going to -
vile. However, that doesn't make any
difference; we will make her stay with us
till Mrs. Delaney sends for her.
So they were talking about her, and
planning way out of all her difficulties
for her. How kind it was, and yet how
their kindness panied her. To be obliged
to accept favors from people she had never
seen till to-day, was so CALLING to proud
Margie, that she felt like running desper-
ately out into the snow, and going on, and
ON, and on, till she should sink down in
some soft white drift and let the flakes
cover her up, and end her troubles and
life together. Then she was shocked at
her own wickedness, and with the sweet
trustfulness of a child, she bent her head
to pray for pardon and for help in her lone
illness.
In the next room they seemed uncon-
scious that every word could be heard
through the thin partition, for Emmie was
saying, "Mr. Winston and Leslie want to
know if we could give Miss Hepburn a
seat in the stage. Of course we cam
"Ohv' sighed Addy plaintively. l sup
pose we must, but our nice party will be
spoiled. Won't it do, Emmie, if we take
note to her aunt from herr It's Mrs.
Delancey's business to get her to-ville. y
"Grecious, Addyv' exclaimed Emmie,
school girl like. "Leave the poor child
here, with no way of getting to -ville
for week perhaps! What are you talking
about? Mamma would give us a good
scolding if we did it, wouldn't she Alice?'
Alice agreed that she would, though she
evidently hesitated to disagree with the
imperious, magnificent Addy.
How Margie's cheeks burned during this
conversation. Her "drops Of tears" were
"turned to sparks of fire." and it was
hard to keep from confronting Addy like
little insulted queen, and assuring her
that "she need not be at all uneasy, the
mice party should never be spoiled by
her presence.
In the midst of her struggles against
pride and temper, bright, warm-hearted
Emmie came in to hurry her, and to entreat,
in her caressing way, that Miss Hepburn
would take seat in their stage and 60
home with them to "Clifton," from which
she could easily reach her aunt's.
Margie yielded, secrstely hoping that the
stage driver could be induced to carry her
on that night to willie, and in few
moments she found herself comfortably
placed with Emmie and large basket con-
tanning lunch, which Mrs. Simmons had
struggled, on the back seat of the stage
There was any quantity of room, for Leslie
and Tom, and George Hardy preferred
climbing to the roof where they chanted
college songs and frightened timid Alice
by pretending to fall off every five minutes,
and Mr.. Winston, after the first half mile
of the road, took the seat beside the driver,
Mr.. Cross than whom there never was a
jollier fellow by the way.)
1t was after shutdown when the stage left
the station, but it was not dark, nor did the
night promise to be dark one, for as Mr..
Cross said, " it would be full moon if it
want for them drafted clouds, and beside
the snow made it light enough for any man
with head to drive" and he repeat cd
his favorite expression, che would get
through if things held together" Sc
they rolled on, the stage swinging easily
from side to side, the wheels crushing
noislessly into the soft snow, and the noble
horses springing forward as if they enjoyed
the performance, while from the singers Oh
the roof jolly chorus made the forest
echo for miles around. A very pleasant
state of affairs if it could only have lasted
But the level stretch of road through the
pines was soon passed, and then came a
series OF hills, up and down, up and down,
each hill sleeper and longer than the last
The stage alternately plunged and rolled,
and its progress grew slower and halts
more frequent. And all the time the snow
came down in one vast binding cloud,
which was whirled hither and thither by
the wind, SO that it seemed to come from
all points of the compass, and actually, as
Tom said, to be "snowing up" at times.
The gentlemen were now obliged to gel
ont at every hill, and to trudge knee deer
in the track of the vehicle. But still
"things held together even when they
began to encounter fallen trees, which
were broken by the weight of snow and
Law stretched across the road, and which
required the united strength of all the mer