Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1875-06-26
MARGARET'S ROMANCE.

Sooner or later comes every ones turn
for fairy land. Once in almost every
ones life shines out the golden radiance
through the wondrous gates, transfgur-
ing all on which it may chance to shine,
and this being part of the human in
heritance, it would seem positive need,
even for such quiet natures as Margaret
Derwent's. And here l use the word
"qUiet," because it is the received term
for characters like hers, apt to be SO
styled, because of certain outward calm
the rest of water unstirred by storm;
of fair land not yet plowed by earth
quakes, yet holding within themselves
all the elements of unrest and disturb
ance.
Margaret Derwent was twenty-one,
with a fresh round face that looked nine
teen, but gravity of manner that would
not have been amiss for thirty-with fine
gray eyes, and long lashes, superb teeth,
and abundant fair hair; but with nose
neither positively pretty nor ugly, and
an entire lack of the regularity of fea-
ture, brilliancy of coloring, and gran
deur of figure that made her sister Sarah
the belle of Stapleton.
Stapleton was small town; and, par
consequence, Stapleton society-good
society-was limited, and the growth of
young men was sparse and feeble.
Feeble or vigorous, however, it was of
small consequence to Margaret; one or
two had indeed thought that there was
something winning or attractive about
Miss Maggie, but something indefnable
kept them at a distance, and Sarah 8
charms were much more easily under
stood.
So Margaret betook herself to the
making of delicious preserves, to house
hol comfort and neatness generally, and
to quiet reading, and much thought, in
her room. Her clio est friends would
warmly urge her claims as good house
keeper, tender and skillful nurse, and
a well-read and pleasing girl; yet all
Stapleton would have joined in a coarse
laugh of derision at any one who should
have affirmed that there was anything
like romance about Margaret Derwent;
while the line, well developed Sarah was,
by one and all, supposed to be of an in
tense sensibility, and possessed of much
fine feeling.
1t was this Margaret Derwent, twenty
one, and admitted by all to be eminently
practical, who dropped in one spring
twilight at Squire Leighton's. There
was an unusual hustle at the squire /!
More glancing of lights than usual, and
strange steps and voices. If it had been
possible she would have retreated; but
Adelaide, her friend, had heard her voice
in the hall, and was already telling her,
with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes,
how her brother George was home, and
what splendid fellow, and how like q
lion he had fought i'll the Indian mutiny.
"But he was so dreadfully wounded, u
continued Adelaide, =" that he has been
invalided home, and though he has lost
no limbs, and his wounds are healed,
yet he needs the best of caro-. You must
come and nurse him, Margaret; you
know we are such wretchel nurses. And
who knows-you may be preserving
your future blOtlui in-law, for he de.
clares that he is gong To fall desperately
in love with Saiah
Margaret, all this time, was quietly
taking off her hat and shawl, and smooth
ing down her hair with her two little
pink palms--looking in the glass was 6
superAuity for her. No one would care
how she looked. She had much more
anxiety on the subject of her future
brother-in-law disappearance than though
for the impression that she might make
on him; perhaps she even secretly
shrank from the thought, being in th'
habit of painfully undertaking her owl
pretensions to beauty.
Captain George Leighton was as hand
some as his sister Adelaide. He wa