UC-NRLF 
 
THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 Education 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Louise Farrow Barr 
 
LITTLE MARJORIE'S LOVE-STORY 
 
LITTLE MARJORIE'S 
 LOVE-STORY 
 
 BY 
 
 MARGUERITE BOUVET 
 3EUu0tratrt 
 
 BY HELEN MAITLAND ARMSTRONG 
 
 CHICAGO 
 
 A. C. McCLURG AND COMPANY 
 1891 
 
COPYRIGHT, 
 BY A. C. MCCLURG AND Co. 
 
 A. D. 1891. 
 
 All rigJits reserved. 
 
 Education 
 GIFT 
 

MARJORIE SAT NEAR AT HIS FEET 
 LOOKING AT HIM." 
 
LITTLE 
 
 r, LOVE STORY' 
 
 EEEN-AAITLAND-MASTROI 
 A-D 
 
LIBR 
 
"Life, I repeat, is energy of love, 
 Divine or human ; exercised in pain, 
 In strife and tribulation, and ordained, 
 If so approved and sanctified, to pass 
 Through shades and silent rest, to endless joy." 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 "HER PRETTY MAMMA" 15 
 
 " HE WAS ALWAYS SMILING AND COOING AT HIS 
 
 LITTLE SISTER" 17 
 
 MARJORIE AND HER BABY-BROTHER 21 
 
 "SHE ONLY LAID HER THIN WHITE HAND ON THE 
 LITTLE GIRL'S CHEEK AND SAID, ' POOR LITTLE 
 
 SOUL!'" 25 
 
 "THEY STILL PLAYED TOGETHER IN THE LITTLE 
 
 GARDEN" . 35 
 
 "IN THE SPRING, WHEN THE DAYS WERE WARM 
 AND LOVELY, THEY SPENT THE MORNINGS 
 TOGETHER ON THE SHORES OF THE PRETTY 
 
 LAKE" 41 
 
 "WHO IS THIS SINGING AT MY GATES UNBIDDEN, 
 
 WITH A VOICE LIKE THAT OF A SERAPH" . 57 
 
 MONSEIGNEUR 65 
 
 " HIS FRESH YOUNG VOICE RANG OUT AND FILLED 
 
 THE GREAT HALL WITH ITS SWEETNESS" 67 
 
12 List of Illustrations. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 "SHE SAW BEAUTIFUL LADIES SPEAK TO HIM" . 71 
 " MARJORIE SAT NEAR AT HIS FEET LOOKING AT 
 
 HIM" 77 
 
 "THE LITTLE WORLD SHE WAS LEAVING BEHIND 
 
 SLEPT QUIETLY" 95 
 
 THE CATHEDRAL TOWER 105 
 
 GERALD 112 
 
 "SEEING NOTHING BUT THAT BELOVED FACE, 
 
 HEARING NOTHING BUT THE ECHO OF HIS 
 
 MUSIC IN HER HEART" 115 
 
 "IT IS TOO LATE" . 123 
 
LITTLE MARJORIES LOVE-STORY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 WAS always called Little 
 Marjorie in the pretty village 
 where they lived. Perhaps it 
 was because she was such a 
 frail and delicate little girl that 
 she still lives in the memory of those who 
 knew her as a little child. But although 
 Marjorie never grew to be a woman, there 
 was in her life the one thing that makes 
 people great ; and that is loving some one 
 better than one's self. There was in her 
 heart the strong pure love that has made 
 heroes in the great world; and in her 
 short years she experienced the sorrows 
 
H Little Marjories Love -Story. 
 
 and yearnings of a life-time. There are 
 persons who are born to sorrow, and who 
 have suffering as their only heritage here 
 on earth ; and yet they are good and lov- 
 ing, accepting all their ills with a gentle 
 spirit, and bearing them with brave cour- 
 age. It was just so with Little Marjorie. 
 She was a sweet, hopeful child; she did 
 not grieve for the blessings she had not, 
 she lived only to make others happy. 
 When Marjorie was a very little girl, 
 she had lived in a strange and distant 
 country ; and she had now only a dim 
 remembrance of a home where she had 
 once been happy with those who loved 
 her, a home that seemed so fair and 
 beautiful, as she looked back to it through 
 her years of loneliness, that it appeared 
 like some dreamy fairyland. She had but 
 a faint recollection of a handsome young 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 15 
 
 father who had suddenly been taken away 
 from them, and of the dreariness that 
 
 followed; of her pretty mamma looking 
 so pale and sorrowful, and how the smile 
 had gone from her lips, and the roses 
 
16 Little Marjories Love -Story. 
 
 died out of her cheeks, and how thin 
 and worn she grew, until she too had 
 faded away and died. But Marjorie re- 
 membered only too well that after all 
 this had happened she was very misera- 
 ble, and wept bitterly for many days, 
 when she found that she was alone in 
 the world with a little baby-brother scarce 
 a year old. 
 
 But this baby-brother was a sweet 
 comfort to Marjorie ; for he was a darling 
 little child, with a beautiful, innocent face, 
 and eyes the color of heaven. He was 
 always smiling and cooing at his little 
 sister, and looking up into her tearful 
 face with great inquiring eyes, as if to 
 ask why she was always sad. Marjorie 
 could not tell him. He was too little to 
 know what had happened, or to under- 
 stand what a great loss had just come 
 
HE WAS ALWAYS SMILING AND COOING AT HIS LITTLE SISTER.' 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 19 
 
 to them both. And so he prattled on in 
 his sweet little voice, and frolicked about 
 in the sunlit fields like a gay butterfly; 
 and as long as he had his "sweet 
 Marjorie" with him, and could run up 
 and smile at her, and lay his little head 
 in her lap when he grew tired, he was 
 quite happy. 
 
 One day Marjorie never quite knew 
 how it came about they found them- 
 selves in a pretty village of France. It was 
 a very strange place to them ; but it was 
 a beautiful little village, and Marjorie felt 
 that she would love it, for she loved all 
 that was beautiful. There were high 
 mountains sheltering it on one side, and 
 on the other the waters of a deep-blue 
 lake laughed and sparkled in the sunlight, 
 and wrapped themselves about the little 
 town like fond protecting arms. It was 
 
20 Little Marjories Love-Story. 
 
 early summer, and the air was filled with 
 the songs of the birdlings, and laden 
 with the first breath of the flowers. The 
 fields and the mountains were green, 
 and the lake and the sky were blue, 
 and the gold sunlight fell over it all so 
 peacefully that Little Marjorie was almost 
 happy. 
 
 They lived in a pretty cottage close to 
 the foot of the mountain; and all sum- 
 mer long its roof and porches were cov- 
 ered with wild vines, and tall green 
 poplars kept watch around it like faithful 
 sentinels. There was a little garden, too, 
 and a little garden gate with sweet-brier 
 climbing over it, a delightful little 
 swinging gate, where Gerald and Marjorie 
 loved to stand and watch the country 
 people in their gay caps, going by to 
 the market-place. The house was a very 
 
MARJORIE AND HER BABY-BROTHER. 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 23 
 
 little house, and everything in it was 
 little from Marjorie and her baby-brother 
 to Mademoiselle herself who lived with 
 them. Mademoiselle was a strange little 
 lady indeed. She seldom spoke to any 
 one, and no smile ever lighted her pretty 
 face. She had a young face ; but her hair 
 was very white, and her eyes were sad 
 with weeping. Marjorie wondered why 
 it was so, and why Mademoiselle was 
 always dressed in black. She did not 
 know that Mademoiselle mourned for a 
 great loss day and night, and year and 
 year; that her heart was desolate. She 
 did not know that when Mademoiselle 
 was a very young girl she had loved 
 Marjorie's papa, and that he had gone 
 far away, promising to come back for her 
 in a year; that when the ^ear was gone 
 something had happened, and Mademoi- 
 
24 Little Marjories Love-Story. 
 
 selle had shut herself up in the little 
 cottage, and vowed that she would live 
 alone always, and never love a thing or 
 creature any more. But the people of 
 the village remembered it all very well, 
 and they pitied her when they thought 
 what a bright, happy girl she had once 
 been. Yet when she heard of these two 
 little souls left alone in that strange, 
 distant country, her heart was softened, 
 for the sorrows of others sometimes make 
 us grow kinder, and she went after 
 Marjorie and the baby Gerald, and brought 
 them home with her. 
 
 When she saw the comely boy, with 
 his sweet face and innocent smile and 
 his great soft eyes, she felt a strange cold 
 ache about her heart. She took him in 
 her arms, and touched her lips to his 
 forehead, and called him a little angel 
 
1 X^ 
 
 \ 
 
 "SHE ONLY LAID HER THIN WHITE HAND ON THE LITTLE GIRL'S CHEEK 
 AND SAID, ' POOR LITTLE SOUL ! ' ' 
 
Little Marjories Love -Story. 27 
 
 from heaven ; for Gerald had his father's 
 blue eyes, and Mademoiselle had loved 
 blue eyes dearly. But when she looked at 
 Marjorie poor, frail, little Marjorie 
 she did not kiss her ; for Marjorie had her 
 mother's dark eyes, and Mademoiselle did 
 not love dark eyes. She only laid her 
 thin white hand on the little girl's cheek, 
 and said " Poor little soul ! " 
 
 Marjorie remembered it always, that 
 cold, cheerless greeting. She wondered 
 secretly why it was that no one ever 
 said pretty things to her, but always 
 "Poor little soul!" Perhaps it was 
 because she was so different from her 
 handsome little brother. He was full of 
 life and beauty and color, and his little 
 face was like a living flower. He had 
 long silken curls the color of gold, and 
 his eyes were like deep violets. His 
 
28 Little Marjorie's Love -Story. 
 
 voice was sweet and ringing, and his 
 laugh was always merry; and he seemed 
 to carry with him only sunshine and 
 happiness. 
 
 But Little Marjorie had not even the 
 beauty of youth in her face. She was 
 white and thin, and her large eyes were 
 full of sadness, - - a strange, expectant 
 sadness, as if she saw the future ahead, 
 and saw too that it held no joy for her. 
 There are eyes like Marjorie's, plenty of 
 them in the world, eyes that seem to 
 reflect the yearnings of the whole human 
 race ; young eyes that tell of tears unwept, 
 and hopes forever lost. Marjorie's eyes 
 had her short history written in them. 
 When she looked up there was a world 
 of pathos in that dark, tender gaze, so 
 that one fell to pitying her without know- 
 ing why. 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 29 
 
 Poor little Marjorie ! She was not long 
 in finding out what to her seemed a great 
 misfortune, the misfortune of having 
 no beauty. She had a keen, sensitive 
 nature to make her realize it, to make 
 her feel that every word and look she 
 got was one of cruel pity; and because 
 of her tender years she reasoned as the 
 young in sorrow do. She had not learned 
 that there is a beauty which surpasses 
 all human loveliness, the beauty of an 
 earnest, loving soul, to possess which is 
 to be eternally blessed. Marjorie did not 
 know in how great a measure she pos- 
 sessed this blessing; few people did, un- 
 til after the short course of her life and 
 love was run. She only knew that she 
 had lost the one thing that seemed to 
 endear her little brother to her, and to 
 all who looked upon him. 
 
30 Little Marjories Love-Story. 
 
 "No one loves me," she would say to 
 herself, "because I am sad and ugly! 
 No one loves me but the dear baby, 
 and perhaps he too will know some day 
 - and then - ' And she would cover her 
 face with her hands, and sob and cry 
 bitterly. 
 
 But nearly always at such times, the 
 little Gerald would run up to her, and 
 put his little arms about her neck, and 
 kiss her so tenderly, and talk to her so 
 sweetly in his baby way that Marjorie 
 would scold herself for being foolish, 
 and promise him that she would never 
 cry again as long as she had him to 
 comfort her. But she did, oh, so many, 
 many times as the years followed one 
 another, and the cherished brother grew 
 out of babyhood and beyond the pale of 
 her tender love. 
 
Little Marjories Love -Story. 31 
 
 It was in these lonely days that Mar- 
 jorie bred and nurtured the love for her 
 little brother that makes her simple life 
 eloquent, and that is a love so true and 
 pure and beautiful that there is none other 
 like it in all the world. His sweet inno- 
 cence, his helplessness, his childish faith 
 in her, and above all his wonderful beauty 
 appealed to all that was truest and ten- 
 derest in her nature; and she responded 
 to it with the ardor of a young and 
 solitary heart. 
 
CHAPTER II, 
 
 and it is surpris- 
 ing how soon this change 
 ' ?' takes place the little boy grew 
 amazingly tall, so that Marjorie was fain 
 to call herself his little sister, instead ; and 
 he grew so wise and knowing that Mar- 
 jorie often pretended to stand in awe of 
 him, and Gerald was very proud and 
 pleased with his new dignity. Young 
 though he was, he had learned that he 
 held the power to make others love and 
 admire him; and unconsciously he made 
 use of this power to gratify his childish 
 vanity. He felt, too, that his sister Mar- 
 
Little Marjories Love- Story. 33 
 
 jorie lived for him only; and like all those 
 who are too freely blessed with love, he 
 little knew the worth of his great bless- 
 ing. Too often, alas! in place of the 
 baby caresses he had been wont to 
 give her, would he repay her tender 
 devotion by thoughtless, unkind words. 
 He thought nothing of wounding Little 
 Marjorie's feelings, because she was patient 
 and forgiving, because she was defence- 
 less and weak, weak in everything but 
 her love for him. 
 
 Gerald was still the same beautiful 
 child, with handsome features and radiant 
 eyes that charmed every one. His art- 
 less grace, his childish yet imperious 
 ways, his fresh, delightful voice carried 
 with it a sort of subtle enchantment, 
 which made it impossible for one not 
 to be fond of him. Marjorie worshipped 
 
 3 
 
34 Little Marjories Love-Story. 
 
 his every act, and was happy only in serv- 
 ing him. True, it was but a sensitive, 
 uncertain pleasure, that very little often 
 changed to pain ; for Marjorie loved Gerald 
 blindly, unreasonably, perhaps, with the 
 youthful passion that knows no guidance 
 or restraint. But it is< possible thank 
 Heaven ! to love unwisely and to have 
 sublime feelings withal; to recognize in 
 those who are dear to us only the fair vir- 
 tues that have enslaved our hearts, and in 
 the end to be made wiser and nobler by the 
 lesson of patience and self-sacrifice. And 
 childish love is such a simple thing, and 
 yet so powerful that all things evil must 
 vanish from the heart where it abides. 
 
 As they grew older Little Marjorie be- 
 came conscious of a new influence that 
 had come over Gerald, a vague, inde- 
 scribable something that seemed to be 
 
THEY STILL PLAYED TOGETHER IN THE LITTLE GARDEN." 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 37 
 
 drawing him away from her and trans- 
 forming him into a strange, fanciful boy, 
 with great ideas of doing something 
 wonderful in the world, and with such 
 improbable hopes and dreams that she 
 was often troubled. They still played 
 together in the little garden, and talked 
 together under the shadow of the tall 
 elms, or wandered out in the quiet 
 wooded lanes, as in the days of their 
 babyhood ; but Gerald was divided from 
 Marjorie by a barrier of dreams; and 
 even while they walked hand in hand 
 she felt that she was alone, that he 
 was living quite apart, with a soft misty 
 veil barring her, and indeed, every one 
 else, from his fair, beatified world. 
 
 For a long time they lived in this quiet 
 lonely way, how long Marjorie could not 
 say; but it seemed a brief enough period 
 
38 Little Marjories Love-Story. 
 
 to her when she looked back to it in 
 less happy days, and remembered it as 
 the sweetest time in her life, and blessed 
 it. For then she had her darling always 
 with her, and his presence was the dearest 
 joy of her life. The thought of being 
 parted from Gerald had never come to 
 her. She could not fancy what her life 
 would be without him. In all their 
 dreams of the future, and Gerald's 
 were great and many, he had always 
 spoken of her. She should be near 
 him ; she should have a share in all his 
 good fortunes; she should be great in 
 his greatness; she should have cause to 
 be proud of him, for he meant to be 
 powerful and wealthy and all that makes 
 men happy in this world. And Mar- 
 jorie faithful, trusting, Little Marjorie 
 lived in that flitting hope, and in the 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 39 
 
 assurance that whatever Gerald might be 
 to the world he would never be to her 
 but a generous, affectionate brother. 
 
 In the spring, when the days were 
 warm and lovely, they spent the morn- 
 ings together on the shores of the pretty 
 lake. It was quiet and lonely there; and 
 they seemed to find something genial in 
 the calm, changeable beauty of the blue 
 waters. They could talk or think as was 
 their mood; they could listen to the 
 murmur of the waves as they came lap- 
 ping up on the shining sand, and fancy 
 that they were saying all sorts of pleas- 
 ant things, or perhaps sad things, if the 
 day was a dark one. They watched the 
 distant boats, with their white sails mov- 
 ing beneath a canopy of gilded clouds; 
 and their thoughts, each so different, 
 wandered out to that land of purple 
 
40 Little Marjories Love-Story. 
 
 mystery, which children see in a fair 
 horizon. Gerald looked upon it as a 
 vision of his future, that future which 
 held so much for him ; and his fancies 
 would take such wayward flights that 
 often Little Marjorie could not keep pace 
 with them. It was then more than ever 
 that she was filled with that strange new 
 thought, and became oppressed with a 
 vague dread that something, she knew 
 not what, was separating her from the 
 brother she loved. Sometimes, too, these 
 sad misgivings were confirmed by a care- 
 less or unkind word or an angry look, 
 which meant nothing to him when it 
 was given and forgotten, but which sank 
 deep into her troubled soul, and would 
 not be effaced. 
 
 Gerald was full of moods ; yet he could 
 not bear that Marjorie should indulge in 
 
IN THE SPRING, WHEN THE DAYS WERE WARM AND LOVELY, THEY SPENT 
 THE MORNINGS TOGETHER ON THE SHORES OF THE PRETTY LAKE." 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 43 
 
 any mood that was not his own. If she 
 was sad and anxious, he would often 
 mistake her thoughts, and grow fretful 
 and restless, and upbraid her for being 
 such ill company. 
 
 " Why don't you talk and laugh with 
 me, Marjorie ? " he would ask, impatient- 
 ly. " It is so lonely and dreadful in this 
 place, I wonder you do not do something 
 to amuse me." 
 
 " I will, dear, I will do anything to 
 please you, if you will tell me what." 
 
 " Tell you what ! just as if I knew. 
 I don't care what, only don't sit there 
 looking so cross and solemn. You don't 
 look pretty when you do." 
 
 "I am not cross, Gerald; you know 
 I should never be cross with you," 
 and Marjorie would smile at him 
 sweetly. 
 
44 Little Marjories Love -Story. 
 
 "That is what you always say; but 
 you are cross, Marjorie, and ugly some- 
 times, and I don't love you, and I shall 
 not let you come and live with me when 
 I am a man." 
 
 " Oh, don't say that ; you would never 
 be unkind to me, Gerald! Everything 
 will be different when you are a man; 
 you will be great, and I shall be too 
 happy ever to look sad." 
 
 Then Gerald would look better pleased, 
 and would add, in a half playful, half 
 earnest tone,- 
 
 "But you are not beautiful, Mar- 
 jorie; you will never be beautiful like 
 me." 
 
 " I do not know why it is, except that 
 no one is so beautiful as you, 1 think. 
 But you will always love me, dear, just 
 as much ? " 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 45 
 
 " I would love you better if you were 
 beautiful." 
 
 " Oh, no, you would not, for beautiful 
 people are not always good, Gerald; but 
 you are beautiful and good; you will 
 always be beautiful and good to me/' 
 
 " Yes, I will be good to you, Marjorie," 
 and Gerald would look at her with a 
 little air of condescension and majesty; 
 and then she would throw her arms 
 about his neck, and smile at him with 
 such a tender light in her eyes that his 
 childish heart would be conquered, and 
 he would kiss her, forgetting that she 
 was not beautiful, and tell her that she 
 was his dear Marjorie still. 
 
 But as time went on these little scenes 
 
 between them grew more frequent and 
 
 more serious; and Marjorie would think 
 
 , long and sadly over them when she was 
 
46 Little Marjories Love-Story. 
 
 left alone, and she would ask herself 
 what it was that barred her out of the 
 world in which her darling lived. Mar- 
 jorie's sphere of comparison was small ; 
 but she knew very well that Gerald was 
 fair to look upon, that there was a magic 
 charm in his childish face, which made 
 people turn to look at him, and stop to 
 listen to the ineffable sweetness of his 
 simple songs. She knew that he had the 
 gift and power to draw people to him, 
 while she had nothing, nothing but a 
 heart full of love to pour out for very need 
 of love. And sometimes when her little 
 soul grew weary with doubt, she would 
 go to Mademoiselle and ask to be com- 
 forted; for Marjorie was a very young 
 and very human little child, and the young 
 have need of sympathy. But Mademoi- 
 selle could give no comfort; she herself 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 47 
 
 had found none in life. She had lost the 
 most precious thing on earth, the only 
 thing that gladdens a whole life; and 
 her heart was like a cold and barren land 
 upon which the sunlight never falls. 
 
 Gerald knew nothing of the thoughts 
 that troubled his little sister Marjorie, 
 of the tearful hours caused by his heed- 
 less care of her. He was full of himself, 
 of his own thoughts and hopes, proud 
 of his beauty ; and above all he was con- 
 scious of the rare gift which he possessed, 
 -the gift of a heavenly voice. He lived 
 in the certainty that sometime through 
 this gift he would rise out of himself 
 into the realms of his beloved fancy. 
 Gerald, notwithstanding his human faults 
 and weaknesses, had in his nature that 
 spark of divinity which is called genius. 
 Hence what was all the rest to him ? To 
 
48 Little Marjories Love -Story. 
 
 live always in the little village, to sing 
 for Mademoiselle, and to be rewarded 
 with one of her rare smiles, to be loved 
 by little Marjorie was a kindly fate, per- 
 haps, for one with quieter hopes; but for 
 Gerald, there was something beyond this, 
 -a life of triumph and glory, the very 
 thought of which filled him with a name- 
 less joy. In that lonely childhood, Gerald 
 was not unhappy ; he had the solace and 
 refuge of a great hope. But little Mar- 
 jorie had no hope save in him. 
 
CHAPTER HI. 
 
 N the village where Gerald and 
 Marjorie lived, there was an 
 old chateau close to the shore of 
 the laughing lake, a strange, 
 
 gray chateau, whose great win- 
 i 
 
 dows reflected at evening the glory of 
 the crimson summer sun. Gerald had 
 often seen it so, clothed in fiery splendor, 
 and he had been wont to look upon it 
 as a sort of enchanted palace, where 
 wonderful things might happen. He 
 fancied he would like to visit the gray 
 chateau some time. He had been past it 
 with Marjorie so many times, in the 
 bleak winter when the white snow man- 
 tled its quaint roofs, and in the pleas- 
 
 4 
 
50 Little Marjories Love-Story. 
 
 anter spring-time when the young vines 
 clambered up its walls, and it had never 
 ceased to hold for him that weird fasci- 
 nation, which mystery and antiquity have 
 for romantic natures. He had said to 
 Marjorie that he knew some time he 
 should really go into the chateau, and it 
 would be a great day for him. And 
 Marjorie had smiled her assent in his 
 belief, though she did not quite know 
 how such a strange thing might come 
 about; for none of the villagers ever 
 entered the chateau, and Monseigneur, 
 the only person who was known to live 
 there, was such a grim and curious 
 personage that all the little children 
 round about were greatly afraid of 
 him. 
 
 Still, upon a certain afternoon, when 
 the breath of summer was gone, and the 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 51 
 
 roses had all died, and the trees were, 
 naked of their leaves, Gerald and Marjorie 
 were out on the white strand gathering 
 sea-shells by the lake. Gerald was silent, 
 and Marjorie had ceased trying to amuse 
 him. It was one of his gloomy days ; he 
 felt that the whole world was dark and 
 lonely, and that the little village was the 
 darkest and loneliest place in it. He 
 looked up and saw a flight of autumn 
 birds winging their way towards the 
 pleasant South, and a sigh rose to his 
 lips. 
 
 " 1 wish I were one of them," he said ; 
 "1 wish I were one of them, and could 
 fly away, away so far ! " 
 
 " And where would you go ? " asked 
 Marjorie, with her half anxious, half 
 hopeful look ; " where would you like 
 to be, dearest ? " 
 
52 Little Marjorie' s Love- Story. 
 
 " Somewhere, anywhere but here. I am 
 sick of this place, of everything in it. Do 
 you see those little white boats yonder, 
 Marjorie, with their masts rising out of 
 the water? I should like to be in one 
 of them, and sail away to some unknown 
 land and never come back." 
 
 " With me, Gerald, with me to go with 
 you?" whispered Little Marjorie. 
 
 " Yes, yes, if you are good. I wish it 
 were now, don't you, Marjorie?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ! but it shall be some day." 
 
 " Some day is too long to wait," said 
 Gerald, fretfully. 
 
 " We cannot think of it yet, love, we 
 must not think of it. You are too young ; 
 we are both too young to go out alone 
 into the world." 
 
 " What a foolish girl you are, Marjorie; 
 you do not know anything about it. 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 53 
 
 Great people are never too young, and 
 they are never alone. I shall be great 
 some time. I shall be the greatest singer 
 in all the world, and I think it must be 
 soon. And you may stay where you 
 please if you are afraid to trust me." 
 
 He spoke quickly, and there was a 
 strange bitterness in his words, something 
 unnatural in a young voice and perfectly 
 incompatible with the angelic fairness of 
 his face. 
 
 " Oh, no, no ! it is not that, you know 
 it is not that!" pleaded Marjorie. "I 
 would go anywhere in the world with 
 you. I am afraid of nothing when you 
 are near me, Gerald." 
 
 "Then don't talk as if I were a baby 
 and needed some one to look after me, 
 else I shall want to go away from you 
 too." 
 
54 Little Marjories Love-Story. 
 
 Marjorie laid her hand gently on his 
 arm and was silent ; for she saw the look 
 of discontent which she dreaded gather 
 slowly over his brow, and rest upon it like 
 an evil shadow. It was an alien look that 
 for a moment eclipsed all the beauty of 
 the young face. Marjorie watched him 
 sorrowfully, but he took no more notice 
 of her ; he only walked on a little faster, 
 as if wishing to be left alone, and re- 
 mained long buried in his own thoughts. 
 
 At length they neared the gate of the 
 old chateau. Gerald stood for a moment 
 gazing at its gray walls and peaked chim- 
 neys and the wreaths of misty smoke 
 that enveloped it, making it look still 
 more weird and ghostly. He sat down 
 upon a broken rock and began to sing, 
 while waiting for Marjorie who had fol- 
 lowed slowly, gathering pretty leaves by 
 
Little Marjories Love- Story. 55 
 
 the way, that she might not disturb his 
 mood. But when she came nearer, it 
 was no longer the same Gerald who sat 
 there with his head leaning against the 
 gray rock, the moody, restless boy who 
 had spoken harshly to her but a moment 
 gone; it was another being, a creature 
 from heaven, it seemed, whose clear voice 
 rose in pure melodious notes and filled 
 the whole air about him, a voice that 
 seemed to be singing away the tumult 
 of a wayward, troubled soul. Gerald 
 always sang so in his darkest moments. 
 When his heart was filled with vague 
 longings, when the unlovely side of his 
 nature rose up in him and would not be 
 conquered, he would pour forth all its 
 bitterness in one long burst of rapturous 
 song and be absolved. It was his prayer 
 for forgiveness. Marjorie stood still and 
 
56 Little Marjories Love-Story. 
 
 listened to the rich sweet music; for it 
 was then that Gerald sang with all the 
 depth and strength of a music-loving 
 soul. She had learned that his music 
 was sacred ; and she knew that the flood 
 which came from his lips was like a 
 healing balm. She only wondered that 
 heaven itself was deaf to that voice, and 
 that it stretched no hand to help and 
 lead her darling. 
 
 It was very strange. Marjorie never 
 forgot it: how she had scarcely shaped 
 the thought when the big gate of the 
 chateau opened, and Monseigneur stood 
 beneath the gray archway, his grave 
 eyes filled with astonishment, looking at 
 them both. Little Marjorie would have 
 run away and hidden herself if she had 
 been alone; but Gerald was afraid of 
 nothing. She waited what seemed an 
 
WHO IS THIS SINGING AT MY GATES UNBIDDEN, WITH A VOICE LIKE 
 THAT OF A SERAPH." 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 59 
 
 endless time, wondering what would 
 happen. And then she remembered how 
 quickly her heart began to beat when 
 she saw Monseigneur actually crossing 
 the little path and coming straightway 
 toward them. 
 
 Gerald was not startled; he only 
 stopped suddenly, and his eyes grew 
 calm and beautiful as with the lingering 
 sweetness of the unfinished song. But 
 Monseigneur was greatly puzzled. He 
 could not believe that this slender boy 
 before him, with the face of a child, had 
 a voice that had pierced the thick walls 
 of his chateau, and brought him out to 
 listen. 
 
 "And who is this?" he said at length, 
 raising Gerald's face to his ; " who is this 
 singing at my gates unbidden, with a 
 voice like that of a seraph?'* 
 
60 Little Marjories Love-Story. 
 
 Gerald did not answer; but a sudden 
 rosiness rushed to his cheeks as he 
 looked up. 
 
 "In truth, thou seemest like one; for 
 thy face is not less fair than thy voice," 
 said Monseigneur. "And, pray, who has 
 taught thee so to sing?" 
 
 "No one, Monseigneur; no one has 
 taught me to sing," answered Gerald. 
 "But there are voices around me some- 
 times, strange, sweet voices that I hear 
 only when I am sad. I cannot tell 
 where they are, but I listen to them, and 
 they tell me I must sing, that I must 
 sing always to be happy." 
 
 Monseigneur looked a moment in sur- 
 prise at the fair fanciful boy talking 
 dreamily as if to himself, and then he 
 asked with a smile, 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 61 
 
 "And have thy fairy voices taught 
 thee to be happy, too?" 
 
 " No," returned Gerald with a soft sigh. 
 " No one is always happy, I think." 
 
 "It is no matter, if one can sing like 
 thee; for thou canst sing, my lad, as 
 but few people sing on earth." And the 
 old man's eyes grew kind as he laid his 
 hand gently on Gerald's head, and added, 
 "On my faith, thou shouldst have a 
 master." 
 
 " A master ? " said Gerald, question- 
 ingly. "What does Monseigneur mean?" 
 
 "I mean, my pretty one, that thou 
 must go to the great city and be taught 
 by a famous maestro in the art of singing. 
 Thy voice should make thee great." 
 
 Gerald's heart beat quickly, his eyes 
 grew dark, and a look of unspeakable joy 
 lighted up his features as he looked up 
 
62 Little Marjories Love-Story. 
 
 into the face of the old man, and said 
 earnestly, "Oh, Monseigneur, if it could 
 only be ! " 
 
 There were times when the love of his 
 art possessed him, when Gerald's face 
 wore an exalted look that seemed almost 
 divine, a quick flash that for a second 
 transformed him into a different being. 
 Monseigneur saw it in the look that 
 followed that simple childish utterance, 
 and Gerald's fate was sealed. 
 
 It takes less than a word, sometimes, 
 to change the whole course of a life, 
 less than a look to steer that fragile 
 bark human destiny into an unknown 
 sea, whose tide we cannot stem. Human 
 lives are full of crises, and there is a 
 strange, mysterious doom that leads us, 
 even in childhood, to choose one path 
 from which we may never turn back. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HEY walked on, the old man 
 leaning on the boy's arm, away 
 from the gray chiteau, and to- 
 ward the little cottage; and 
 Marjorie followed them in silence, 
 neither taking any heed of her. And 
 they talked much of the things that 
 Gerald loved to hear, of the wonderful 
 things in the great city, of the lads who 
 sang at the cathedral, and how people 
 came from miles around to hear them, 
 and how sometimes they were sent to 
 sing before the Pope himself at his great 
 palace, and how he rewarded them with 
 gold crosses and large sums of money. 
 
64 Little Marjories Love-Story. 
 
 This to Gerald seemed the sweetest and 
 kindliest fate that could be bestowed on 
 any mortal, and quite compassed his ideas 
 of greatness. And Monseigneur enjoyed 
 his eagerness so, and waxed so earnest 
 in relating these things, that one might 
 have thought he had been a lad himself, 
 and a singer as well. 
 
 But Little Marjorie heard nothing of 
 what they said ; her heart was filled with 
 strange forebodings. She tried to think of 
 Gerald's happiness, of the pleasure that 
 had brought back his sweet, alluring 
 smile, and the look of love in his eyes. 
 But she knew that this look and this 
 smile were not for her. She could not 
 tell why it was, but she felt that she 
 had been suddenly shut out of all his 
 happiness, and she was more forsaken 
 than ever. 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 65 
 
 For several days after, Gerald was in 
 a dream of delight, so that he quite 
 forgot to be cross with Mar- 
 jorie. Monseigneur came to the 
 little cottage, and talked a long 
 time with Mademoiselle, and 
 then Gerald was called in and 
 told that on the morrow he 
 would sing at the chateau be- 
 fore a number of great people, 
 whom Monseigneur had bidden 
 to come and hear him. And 
 when Monseigneur went from the door 
 of the little cottage, he turned again 
 and kissed Gerald on the forehead, and 
 placed a gold coin in his hand, the 
 largest and brightest that Gerald had 
 ever seen. 
 
 And then all Marjorie's sad misgivings 
 had vanished ; for she knew now that all 
 
66 Little Marjories Love-Story. 
 
 was well, and that Heaven had indeed 
 smiled down upon the fortunes of her 
 darling; and no one was so happy as 
 she, not even Gerald himself. Marjorie 
 had never a thought for herself, nor a 
 joy nor a hope save in him; and the 
 one purpose of her life was the well- 
 being of the brother, not one of whose 
 gifts she envied. 
 
 As Gerald had said, it was a great day 
 for them, indeed, when he sang at the 
 chateau, and he looked very beautiful as 
 he stood there, underneath the brilliant 
 lights of Monseigneur's salon, his fair 
 face flushed with expectation, and his 
 large soft eyes resting on the crowd 
 around him. Young as he was, and 
 little used as he was to the presence 
 of strange and great people, there was 
 no diffidence in his manner, no fear 
 
HIS FRESH YOUNG VOICE RANG OUT AND FILLED THE GREAT 
 HALL WITH ITS SWEETNESS." 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 69 
 
 written on his childish face. He bore 
 himself already like a master, a master 
 of a great art; and like a true master 
 he was armed with confidence, the 
 weapon of genius. Every one admired 
 him; it was impossible not to admire 
 Gerald. For besides his loveliness of 
 feature and form, there was in his face 
 that indescribable charm of youth, which, 
 in gifted and sensitive natures, seems to 
 outlast all others. 
 
 But when his fresh young voice rang 
 out and filled the great hall with its 
 sweetness, when all the listeners pressed 
 around him in astonishment, when he 
 was applauded and praised so much that 
 the blushes came thick to his cheeks, 
 it was then that little Marjorie's heart 
 overflowed with joy and pride in him, 
 -a joy that made her forget everything 
 
70 Little Marjories Love -Story. 
 
 but his presence and the great happy 
 thought that he was hers to love and 
 to glory in always. 
 
 Oh, Marjorie! our fairest ideal is but 
 the shadow of what we love reflected 
 by our own fancy, in the flush of youth 
 and hope; it is but a flashing dream, 
 bright, sweet, and full of comfort, but 
 followed by a bitter waking. We may 
 not in this world behold it face to face; 
 for this is a world of realities, which for 
 hope hath no reward, and for dreams no 
 fulfilment. 
 
 Yet Little Marjorie lived a world of 
 happiness in those few short moments, 
 when her beloved stood there in all his 
 simple grace. She could only look at 
 him; her heart was too full to speak; 
 but all that she might have said went 
 out to him in that look of infinite ten- 
 
SHE SAW BEAUTIFUL LADIES SPEAK TO HIM." 
 
Little Marjories Love -Story. 73 
 
 derness. She saw those great people 
 rise and go to him as with one impulse. 
 She saw beautiful ladies speak to him 
 and smile, some bending down to kiss 
 him, and some caressing his bright curls. 
 And Monseigneur smiled at him, too, as 
 he had not smiled at any one for many 
 a day, and called him a glorious lad. 
 And Gerald sang again and again all the 
 little simple songs he knew as if he had 
 been inspired; and he was as happy as 
 ever people are at the dawn of their 
 first great triumph. 
 
 All the way home that night, as they 
 walked together under the stars, Little 
 Marjorie was weaving a golden web of 
 fancy. She was living already in that 
 happy future, which now seemed very 
 near, when Gerald would be great, when 
 the whole world should know his name 
 
74 Little Marjories Love-Story. 
 
 and hang on the spell of his magic 
 voice. She saw him honored and exalted 
 and welcomed everywhere; she saw him 
 great among the great. And in her simple 
 heart she saw him too smiling down upon 
 her, and loving her through all his great- 
 ness. Ah! how many times afterward 
 did Marjorie remember that happy, happy 
 night and wish that she had died then, 
 died in that hour when she was 
 wrapped in the mystic veil of hope. 
 
 When they reached the little cottage, 
 Gerald and Marjorie sat for a long time 
 before the fire, thinking of the great 
 change of fortune that had just come to 
 them. It was very strange; they could 
 scarcely understand it. Only a few days 
 before they had been so alone, so hope- 
 less, and then, suddenly, everything was 
 changed, and their future looked bright 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 75 
 
 and promising. To Gerald it seemed as 
 if the dream of his life was being realized. 
 For just before they left the chateau, 
 he and Marjorie, Monseigneur had 
 taken him aside and told him something 
 strangely delightful. He had not spoken 
 of it to Marjorie yet ; for she would ask 
 so many questions, girls were such 
 curious creatures, and he wanted to 
 enjoy it alone first of all ; and he grew so 
 excited for thinking of it that all sleep 
 forsook his eyes. He sat there silently, 
 looking into the yellow flame with the far- 
 away dreamy look in his blue eyes, and he 
 smiled a little, as if he saw something 
 pleasant ahead. Marjorie sat near at his 
 feet looking at him, following his every 
 thought with eager hungry eyes, and 
 worshipping him. How she did love 
 him that night, her proud, handsome 
 
76 Little Marjorie' s Love-Story. 
 
 brother ! How she did long to say some- 
 thing that would tell him so, and show 
 him how great she thought him ; how she 
 believed and trusted and hoped in him ! 
 
 But Marjorie had learned, alas! that 
 however anxious Gerald was for the 
 plaudits of the great world, her praise 
 and her admiration were little to him. 
 Perhaps it was because she gave them 
 so freely; perhaps because she was only 
 an insignificant little girl, Marjorie could 
 not say. But she knew that she would 
 have given worlds for a word of praise 
 from him, or an approving smile. 
 
 Yet that night her heart was so full 
 of joy that she could not leave him with- 
 out a tender word. 
 
 "Dearest Gerald!" she said, softly; 
 " you sang so beautifully ! I am so proud 
 of you, and I love you so! please, please 
 
MARJORIE SAT NEAR AT HIS FEET 
 LOOKING AT HIM." 
 
Little Marjorie' s Love-Story. 79 
 
 say you love me a little," and she laid 
 her cheek fondly on his arm and held 
 him close. 
 
 "Oh, Marjorie, don't be a foolish girl! " 
 returned Gerald, impatiently. "You know 
 very well that I like you, but I don't like 
 you when you are silly." 
 
 "It is not silly for me to love you, 
 Gerald." 
 
 "But it is selfish of you to trouble 
 me when I am thinking. You always do 
 it, Marjorie. Now go away and leave 
 me, do!" 
 
 " Forgive me, dear, I do not mean to 
 trouble you or to be selfish. I only want 
 you to know how much I love you, and 
 I cannot help saying it, Gerald." 
 
 "Oh, forgive you! forgive you! You 
 are always wanting to be forgiven, and 
 then doing the same sins over. I should 
 
8o Little Marjories Love -Story. 
 
 think if you cared for me you would try 
 a little not to annoy me so." 
 
 "I do try," returned Marjorie, with a 
 choking sob. "Oh, I do try; but but 
 Gerald, you are not always kind to me;" 
 and she hid her face in her hands, afraid 
 of what she had said; and all her hap- 
 piness was gone because of his cruel 
 words. 
 
 Gerald could not brook the suggestion 
 of a reproach. To his eyes his conduct 
 was blameless. Had he not promised 
 that Marjorie should, live with him when 
 he was great! Had he not allowed her 
 to love him? What more could she ex- 
 pect! His proud spirit rose like a flash; 
 for Gerald had a quick, excitable nature, 
 which, according to his mood, could be 
 roused by a single offenceless word; 
 and it was Marjorie's misfortune that 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 81 
 
 despite the deep love she had for him in 
 her heart, she was the one to draw down 
 this ill-will upon her innocent self. 
 Gerald truly believed that he was a good 
 brother to her, had she not said it 
 herself a hundred times! and that she 
 should now reproach him with unkind- 
 ness was a great sin. He pushed her 
 away and said angrily, 
 
 "It is a great pity you have such a 
 heartless brother, indeed, and perhaps 
 you will be glad enough when you 
 haven't him any more. I think I'll go 
 away and leave you, I really do." 
 
 " Don't say that ! " cried Marjorie, in 
 alarm; "don't say it, Gerald; I could not 
 live without you; indeed, I could not." 
 
 "Then why do you vex me and cry 
 at nothing? You know very well I hate 
 to see you cry. If you knew how hid- 
 
 6 
 
82 Little Marjories Love -Story. 
 
 eous it makes you, perhaps you would 
 not do it so often." 
 
 Marjorie was very miserable. She held 
 up her white arms, imploringly, 
 
 "I did not mean it, dear Gerald; you 
 are very good to me, and I love you ! " 
 
 "But / do not love you," he said, 
 severely ; " and I am going away, to-mor- 
 row, to leave you." 
 
 " Gerald ! Gerald ! You must not go 
 you must not go away from me. I 
 am all alone in the world ; I have no one 
 but you; I should die without you." 
 
 "No, you would not," he answered 
 coldly; and he rose and walked away 
 with the hard, bitter look on his young 
 face. 
 
 Marjorie stood looking at him vacantly, 
 silent and stupefied with grief. She had 
 neither courage nor strength to run up 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 83 
 
 to him and make him forgive her. Al- 
 ways before she had pleaded with him 
 and brought back a smile or a kind word 
 to his lips ; and their sad time had ended 
 in her kissing all his angry thoughts 
 away. But to-night the sound of his 
 words rang in her heart with a terrible, 
 cruel meaning; and he seemed to have 
 taken with him all her strength and 
 hope. Only a moment ago she had been 
 so happy; and now the world was cold 
 and dark, and she was alone in it. 
 
 Some hearts, especially those of the 
 young, are unsympathetic in their pros- 
 perity. They forget the hands that have 
 labored for them, the willing sacrifices 
 that have been made for them; the lov- 
 ing words of praise that have cheered and 
 encouraged them, often the very ones 
 that have helped them to success, Heaven 
 
84 Little Marjories Love-Story. 
 
 forgive them 1 Gerald thought no more of 
 Marjorie after he had left her. For some 
 hours longer he lay dreaming of his good 
 fortune, of the happiness in store for him ; 
 for Monseigneur had really told him that 
 on the next day he was to go to the 
 great city to be taught until he should 
 become the greatest singer in the world. 
 It was his reward for having sung so 
 well at the chateau ; or for having a win- 
 ning face and sweet blue eyes, perhaps; 
 or for having been such a good brother 
 to Marjorie, who shall say? Gerald did 
 not trouble himself with this problem ; 
 he only smiled at the pleasing visions 
 ahead, and fell at last into a quiet sleep. 
 But Marjorie had no pleasant dreams 
 to look forward to. She had only the 
 memory of a sickening sorrow, and a 
 dull aching feeling at her heart ; and she 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 85 
 
 could find no rest till she had gone to 
 her brother's little room, and had softly 
 crept to his bedside, and given him the 
 gentle kiss that his hardness of heart had 
 forbidden her. And when she saw him 
 lying there sleeping so peacefully with 
 the hopeful smile resting on his face, she 
 believed that in his heart he had for- 
 given her, and she was comforted. 
 
 The morning came, and with it Mon- 
 seigneur. It was a cold, gray, dismal 
 morning. The little cottage never looked 
 so bare, and the moaning of the tall pop- 
 lars was never so sad as on that morning 
 when Marjorie saw the great carriage roll 
 up to the garden-gate, and her brother 
 Gerald disappear within it, and the black 
 horses gallop away so fast, as if they 
 never cared that they were taking from 
 her the dearest thing of her life! She 
 
86 Little Marjories Love-Story. 
 
 stood watching them alone, holding her 
 heart, following them with her eyes 
 till they had vanished in the distance, 
 and the sound of the rumbling wheels 
 was heard no more and so she lost 
 him. 
 
 Ah me! What a dreadful day it was! 
 How the rain fell; and how poor Little 
 Marjorie's tears flowed! Gerald was 
 gone gone from her with never a word 
 of forgiveness : she could think of nothing 
 else. Yet in her grief she loved him and 
 blamed herself and could see no wrong 
 in him. Ah, most blessed, most perfect, 
 truest love, that stands alone, steadfast 
 amid the wrecks and disappointments of 
 human affections, and wavers not in its 
 fidelity! No, there is not in all the world 
 a stronger or purer or more enduring 
 love than this. 
 
Little Marjorie's Low-Story. 87 
 
 Gerald as he was, Gerald the thought- 
 less, selfish brother, the cause of all her 
 heartache, had no place in Marjorie's 
 memory now. She could only think 
 of him as he had been in the days of 
 his innocent babyhood; she remembered 
 only the beautiful child who had loved 
 and trusted her, and gladdened her own 
 troubled childhood. She lived over and 
 over again in her fancy all the little ten- 
 der things he had said to her ; the fond 
 caresses and bright glances that had 
 penetrated her, and suffused her soul 
 with a strange sweet happiness. Ab- 
 sence is a great reconciliator, it makes 
 us forget the sorrows of the past, and 
 live only in the memory of hours made 
 bright by gentleness and love. And 
 Marjorie had but one sorrow now,- 
 that of being parted from him, and the 
 
88 Little Marjories Love-Story. 
 
 dread that she might never see him 
 more ; while all the rest faded out of her 
 heart like a dream. 
 
 It was very dreary without Gerald; 
 and Marjorie wandered from the blue 
 lake to the green mountains, and found 
 no cheer. She could not look upon the 
 things they had loved, however beautiful 
 they were, without that strange, chok- 
 ing, deathly pain wringing her heart. 
 She could not see the familiar places 
 where they had been so happy together 
 without feeling that she was alone and 
 wretched now; and there was not a 
 thing or a place in her life but was 
 linked with a thought of him. She 
 never lived a day but it brought back 
 some recollection bitter or sweet, to 
 flood her young soul with new misery. 
 Her eyes grew darker and sadder with 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 89 
 
 tears, and her thin sweet face was al- 
 most transparent in its whiteness. And 
 the good village people who were wont 
 to see her standing at dusk beside the 
 little garden-gate shook their heads 
 sadly, and said "Poor little soul!" more 
 than ever, and almost hoped that the 
 morrow would find her in a happier 
 world. But Marjorie lived on a vain 
 and foolish hope, as many a one has 
 done, - - the hope that sometime she 
 should stand there and see her brother 
 Gerald coming back to her; coming to 
 love her and make her happy. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 YEAR passed wearily on, 
 and then another; and it 
 was nearing Christmas-tide. 
 Marjorie had had no mes- 
 sage from Gerald through 
 all this long time, for Monseigneur had 
 not returned, and people seldom went to 
 the great city: it was a long distance 
 away, and the roads were dangerous. 
 But one day the little village was all 
 astir with the news that a young lad 
 whom every one had known as a pretty 
 fair-haired boy had found favor in the 
 great city with his singing; that indeed 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 91 
 
 his voice was the talk and wonder of all 
 the people ; that he was going to sing in 
 the Mass at the Cathedral on Christmas 
 Eve, and that crowds of people would 
 come to hear him. 
 
 Marjorie heard it all, and listened with 
 a fluttering heart. Could it be her 
 brother Gerald? She felt sure it must 
 be he. Who but Gerald was beautiful, 
 and had a marvellous voice? The old 
 longing rose strong and wild in her poor 
 heart at the thought of his triumph, 
 the longing to see his dear face again ; 
 to hear him sing; to meet the look of 
 pleasure in his eyes, for Gerald was al- 
 ways happy when he sang. Perhaps, 
 too, he would be glad to see her, it was 
 such a long time since they were parted 
 from each other! And he might want 
 to love her now that he was happy, if 
 
92 Little Marjories Love-Story. 
 
 he had not forgotten her. But then, 
 he might have forgotten her ! There .had 
 been times, many times, when she had 
 sickened at this thought; and there 
 had been days when Gerald seemed so 
 far away that she felt she should never 
 see him again. But there had never 
 been an hour when she had forgotten 
 him; and she comforted herself with 
 the belief that though his love was dif- 
 ferent, it was not less true than her own. 
 But Marjorie had not lived in a great 
 city, with its pleasures and excitements 
 and its ever new people; she had not 
 been singing before a great maestro, who 
 told her a hundred things to turn her 
 young head ; she had not been caressed 
 and flattered by people whom it was an 
 honor to know; she had not been 
 rocked in the hope of becoming some 
 
Little Marjories Love -Story. 93 
 
 day a great artist. Marjorie had only 
 stayed in the little village with Mademoi- 
 selle; she had had but one image before 
 her, and but one hope, that of being 
 sometime good and strong and wise 
 enough to please Gerald ; and when at last 
 she heard of his fair fortune, it seemed as 
 if all her strength and hope were armed 
 for one great effort to go out into the 
 world alone, if need be, and never rest 
 till she had found him. It was a wild 
 and desperate thought; but desperate 
 thoughts come to us all when we are 
 in great trouble, and she could find no 
 peace while yet this vague hope flitted 
 before her. She brooded over it by day 
 and dreamed of it by night, and could 
 not bear the thought of going back to 
 the old life of dreary waiting : she would 
 go to him now, and never leave him more. 
 
94 Little Marjories Love -Story. 
 
 Early one bitter morning in the heart 
 of December, Marjorie left the little cot- 
 tage where she had spent her childhood, 
 the home that was linked in her mind 
 with all the joy and sorrow of her young 
 life. She looked back to it with a vague 
 feeling that she should never see it again ; 
 and a flood of memories came crowding 
 upon her and overwhelmed her heart. 
 The wind blew icy cold; the snow fell 
 in blinding flakes, burying all trace of 
 the roads; the waters of the blue lake 
 were frozen into a solid glare, and were 
 cold and unresponsive to her look of 
 tearful farewell. The little world she 
 was leaving behind slept quietly ; there 
 was not a living thing astir on this 
 bleak wintry morning, only a little 
 girl with a pale anxious face and wildly 
 beating heart, hurrying, hurrying, she 
 
THE LITTLE WORLD SHE WAS LEAVING BEHIND SLEPT QUIETLY." 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 97 
 
 scarce knew whither. She did not think 
 of the distance between her and the 
 great city; she did not think of the 
 tediousness of a day's journey on foot 
 across a rough and rugged country; 
 she did not care that she had no food 
 to stay her failing strength, and but 
 scanty clothing to shield her from the 
 cruel cold: the thought of seeing Gerald, 
 of listening to his voice again, soon rose 
 above every other thought, and made 
 her strong and brave. She beguiled 
 the dreary hours with fair day-dreams 
 soon to be realized; she was dreaming 
 of what their meeting would be, of all 
 that she would 'say to him. Would he 
 be glad ? Would he take her into his 
 arms and kiss her? Ah, yes; she was 
 sure he would. And she would say, 
 "Gerald, dear, dear Gerald, I am sorry!" 
 
 7 
 
98 Little Marjories Love-Story. 
 
 and he would look at her in his fond 
 old way, and call her his dear, foolish 
 Marjorie. And then he would take her 
 into the great Cathedral with him; and 
 when he sang it would be all for her; 
 and when the Mass was done they 
 would walk away together, as they had 
 done that night from the chateau, to 
 the place where Gerald lived. It must 
 be a beautiful place, for Gerald was so 
 great and famous already. She could 
 almost see how he would look when she 
 told him how wretched she had been; 
 and how he would laugh his clear, 
 merry, ringing laugh, and say it had all 
 been a hideous dream, and that now she 
 was never to leave him any more, 
 and the thought of it all so thrilled 
 her that she cried a little for thinking 
 of her happiness. Marjorie was too 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 99 
 
 young, too strong in faith, to accept 
 sorrow as a reality; she did not know 
 that sorrow is the only thing in this 
 world that is real, the only thing that 
 stays and clings to us, and will not be 
 put away, not even by the hope of a 
 coming joy. 
 
 Marjorie traversed the dark mysterious 
 woods, so still and lonely, where no 
 sound broke the awful stillness but the 
 wild moaning of the wind through the 
 naked trees, and the tread of her weary 
 little feet as she made her way over the 
 icy twigs. She did not stop to rest or 
 refresh her faint young body; she did 
 not think of the pain she felt now, for 
 the great longing that was in her heart. 
 If Gerald had known what Marjorie 
 went through in that dreadful day, what 
 suffering of soul and body she bore for 
 
ioo Little Marjories Love-Story. 
 
 his sake, his heart, selfish and hard 
 though it was, would have melted, I 
 think, for very pity of the wretched 
 little sister whose only sin was to love 
 him. 
 
 But at that very hour, when Marjorie 
 was journeying wearily toward him, 
 Gerald was full of the glories of the 
 coming night, and Marjorie had long 
 since ceased to have any place in his 
 thoughts. He was to sing at the Cathe- 
 dral ; he, the youngest of the choristers, 
 was to lead the midnight Mass, and 
 sing alone the Agnus Dei. It was a 
 great thing indeed, for he would be 
 rewarded handsomely by the maestro if 
 he did his best; and he was proud and 
 happy, as he had cause to be had his 
 great gift left room in his heart for 
 aught that was grateful and tender. 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 101 
 
 But Gerald's nature had neither grate- 
 fulness nor tenderness in it; and though 
 his art was the gift of Heaven, it never 
 raised him from his earthly longings into 
 a world of eternal peace. 
 
 At length the day darkened, and the 
 moaning of the wind was hushed, and 
 the sky grew dark and angry with 
 clouds, and the killing night-frost fell 
 like a mantle over the cheerless earth. 
 Marjorie hurried onward, out of the 
 gloomy forest into the deepening twi- 
 light. She was still a long way from the 
 city ; it was snowing very fast, the roads 
 were impenetrable, and she could see 
 nothing for the darkness. Her strength 
 was failing, and despair seized her; she 
 uttered a low cry, and sank for a moment 
 by the roadside but only a moment, to 
 rest and think, to pray for help from 
 
102 Little Marjories Love- Story. 
 
 Heaven. Just then she heard a distant 
 chime of bells pealing out the Angelus. 
 It was a blessed sound, the only familiar 
 thing that had crossed her path through 
 that long and dismal day, and it fell on 
 her drooping spirits like a ray of hope. 
 She listened to its faint echoes, and they 
 seemed to be calling her as they died 
 away on the night. It was the bell of 
 the great Cathedral. 
 
 A minute later the light of a lantern 
 shone across the road, and an unsteady- 
 footed mule went by pulling a little 
 cart with a single traveller in it. Mar- 
 jorie rose to her feet and called out to 
 him. 
 
 " Stop ! oh please stop ! " she cried 
 tremblingly. 
 
 "Well, what now?" said a gruff voice, 
 and the little cart stood still. 
 
Little Marjories Love- Story. 103 
 
 "The way to the city if you could 
 tell me please," said Marjorie, faintly. 
 
 "There's only one way," said the man, 
 "and it's a bad one." 
 
 "How far is it?" asked Marjorie. 
 
 " More than a league, maybe ; there 's 
 no telling, a night like this." 
 
 Marjorie groaned, and the man bent 
 down to look at her. The white snow 
 reflected the rays of light from the lan- 
 tern, and showed him a face so worn and 
 suffering and yet so childlike that he 
 uttered an oath by way of astonishment 
 and sympathy. 
 
 "And now, whither?" he asked in 
 kinder tones. 
 
 "To the Cathedral," answered she, "to 
 hear the midnight Mass." 
 
 "That's not my way," returned the 
 man ; " but I '11 take thee to the city, and 
 
104 Little Marjories Love- Story. 
 
 thou canst find thy way to the church 
 after if thou art fool enough to travel all 
 this way for a drop of holy water. I 'd 
 never have gone a step in thy place, not 
 for the Saint Peter himself, in a hurricane 
 like this ; " and he lifted her into the cart 
 less roughly than his voice had sounded. 
 
 Marjorie allowed him to put a little 
 bundle of straw under her head, and to 
 throw his leather jacket over her shiver- 
 ing limbs; and then the mule took up 
 its slow uncertain tread again, and they 
 moved on in the darkness. 
 
 It must have taken them a long while 
 to make that league or more, for by the 
 time they reached the outskirts of the 
 city the snow had ceased falling, and 
 the stars were shining through the 
 broken clouds, and Marjorie knew that 
 she had been sleeping. Now they had 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 105 
 
 crossed the 
 bridge, and were 
 nearing the 
 heart of the busy 
 city. Marjorie's 
 eyes looked 
 round her in 
 astonishment; 
 - she was bewil- 
 dered by all the 
 strange new 
 sounds, the 
 rumble of car- 
 riages, and the 
 tramp of horses' 
 feet over the icy 
 pavements, and 
 the ringing and 
 clanging of 
 church bells, till 
 
io6 Little Marjories Love-Story. 
 
 the air seemed wild and crazy with 
 noise. She saw the long white street 
 with its double rows of lamp -posts 
 shedding their lurid light on the streams 
 of people moving beneath them, and 
 the thought of finding her way through 
 that multitude made her heart beat 
 frightfully. 
 
 Presently the cart stopped, and the 
 driver made as if to wake her, rapping 
 with his stick on one of the wheels. 
 
 "Where are we?" asked Marjorie. 
 
 "We are here," rejoined the man, and 
 he pointed to where the gaunt gray 
 towers of the Cathedral rose against the 
 star -lit heavens. 
 
 "Oh, thank you, thank you, for bring- 
 ing me so near," cried Marjorie, her heart 
 leaping for the sudden joy. "I have no 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 107 
 
 money, but I will pray to the blessed 
 saints for you; 1 ' and her -grateful' 
 tears fell fast. 
 
 The carter moved off quickly, clearing 
 his throat the while ; but he looked back 
 once to see Marjorie's little figure losing 
 itself in the crowd. 
 
 She drew near the steps of the old 
 Cathedral. The portals were not yet 
 opened, but she could see the soft red 
 lights falling from its gothic windows 
 against the dark gray walls. It could not 
 be far from midnight. Crowds of people 
 were there already, pushing forward and 
 eager to be the first to enter. No one 
 but Marjorie seemed to know what a 
 bitter night it was. The people she saw 
 were wrapped in soft rich cloaks, and 
 came with light steps and happy faces, 
 
io8 Little Marjories Love- Story. 
 
 for it was Christmas Eve. Marjorie won- 
 dered if she would find a place in the 
 great Cathedral, a little place, where 
 she might hide herself and still see 
 Gerald when he sang! 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 IT was not long before the doors 
 were opened, and the aisles 
 filled rapidly with worship- 
 pers. Marjorie looked in 
 wistfully. Twice she crossed 
 the threshold of the great 
 door, and came back with 
 
 Y 
 
 her courage all gone. But 
 at last she took heart, and braved herself 
 with the thought that Gerald too would 
 be there soon; and that thought drove 
 away all her fears. And then, were not 
 even the great churches open to all to 
 the rich and poor on Christmas Eve? 
 
i io Little Marjories Love- Story. 
 
 She went in, and knelt beneath a picture 
 of the blessed Christ holding a tender lamb 
 in his arms; and as she raised her eyes 
 to the divine face, she felt that surely 
 He would help and comfort her. 
 
 The high altar was all aglow with 
 burning candles, and the flowers and the 
 incense mingled together in a holy fra- 
 grance. On the left was the shrine of 
 the Blessed Virgin, and straight in front of 
 where Marjorie knelt was the creche 
 where the Infant Jesus lay on a rude bed 
 of straw, surrounded by so many dazzling 
 lights that the little marble figure seemed 
 warmed by them into life and color. 
 
 Marjorie covered her face with her 
 hands, and prayed out of the earnestness 
 of her soul a long wordless prayer, a 
 prayer of thanksgiving that she was here 
 at last in this haven of rest and peace. 
 
Little Marjories Love- Story . m 
 
 Suddenly the tones of an organ broke in 
 upon the sacred stillness, and swayed their 
 melody out into the world of worshippers. 
 The High Mass began. The white -robed 
 choir took up the Kyrie Eleison, and a 
 mighty chorus of angel voices swelled to 
 the vaulted roof of the ancient Cathedral. 
 Softly, sweetly, mystically, a single voice 
 rose high and clear above the others. It 
 soared and soared like some happy winged 
 thing; it sailed forth into the quivering 
 air with flute -like strength and sweet- 
 ness, beyond the realms of earthly music 
 till the great chorus with the sound of 
 its hundred voices died away to a murmur 
 that seemed only to blend its harmony 
 to the magic of that one pure strain. It 
 was a young voice; a voice that thrilled 
 the souls of men as a sudden burst of 
 light from heaven might ; a voice rich 
 
ii2 Little Marjories Love-Story. 
 
 and full as a woman's, and as sweet as 
 a seraph's song. 
 
 A mist rose before Marjorie's eyes, her 
 head swam, her breath forsook her, and 
 she lay with her head resting 
 on the little stool before her. 
 No one saw her ; no one knew 
 that she had fainted. When 
 she recovered her conscious- 
 ness the Mass was nearly done ; 
 but there before her was that 
 same radiant vision, a fair, 
 proud being arrayed in a robe 
 of dazzling whiteness, and look- 
 ing to her bewildered eyes like some 
 celestial creature. There was no mis- 
 take ; it was Gerald, her own dear Gerald. 
 He stood there singing alone : " Agnus 
 Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi- 
 
 And the same silvery notes rang out 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 1 13 
 
 upon the air, rising and falling in liquid 
 cadence, and filling the great vast with 
 its marvellous sweet melody. 
 
 Only a boy, with a face like an angel 
 and a voice pleading for the sins of 
 the world, a voice laden with infinite 
 sadness and love; and yet his own 
 heart as cold and compassionless as the 
 chill mantle that covered the earth 
 without. 
 
 Ah me! that a gift like this should 
 have strayed into a human erring soul! 
 that a thing so heavenly as music should 
 be fettered to weak and sinning mor- 
 tality! And yet there are many such, 
 many whose hearts are the temples of this 
 great and glorious gift, and yet where it 
 must needs dwell side by side with all 
 that is unfeeling and unholy. It is the 
 strangest and saddest of mysteries! 
 
ii4 Little Marjories Love- Story. 
 
 The people sat utterly spellbound till 
 the very last note had died from Gerald's 
 lips. For a full minute the great church 
 was steeped in breathless silence. It 
 seemed as if time stood still, and all 
 forgot to worship in the wonder that fol- 
 lowed. When the benediction was said 
 and the crowd had passed out of the 
 long aisles, and the white-robed choris- 
 ters had disappeared in the sacristy, Little 
 Marjorie was still kneeling with her eyes 
 fixed on the spot where Gerald had stood, 
 seeing nothing but that beloved face, 
 hearing nothing but the echo of his 
 music in her heart. A moment later 
 some one was putting out the lights in 
 the Cathedral, and the world was grow- 
 ing dark again for her. She rose and 
 went out into the cold night to wait 
 for him. She would watch on the church 
 
"SEEING NOTHING BUT THAT BELOVED FACE, HEARING NOTHING BUT 
 THE ECHO OF HIS MUSIC IN HER HEART." 
 
Little Marjories Love -Story. 117 
 
 steps till he came by, and then she would 
 go to him and call him by name and he 
 would know her. Weak and trembling 
 she stood behind one of the gray stone 
 pillars, while the cruel wind blew and 
 the thoughtless multitude passed on, tak- 
 ing no heed of the miserable little figure. 
 She waited a long time till she was nearly 
 fainting with the dread that she might 
 have missed Gerald in the crowd and 
 perhaps lost him, when a number of gay, 
 light-hearted boys came trooping out 
 at the old churchyard gate. They were 
 singing and cheering noisily, and Gerald's 
 name was caught up and carried loudly 
 from mouth to mouth. They came 
 nearer and nearer, till, in the last rosy 
 stream of light that fell from the Cathe- 
 dral windows, Marjorie caught sight of 
 her brother's fair head towering above 
 all the others. 
 
n8 Little Marjories Love-Story. 
 
 She stepped forward breathlessly, and 
 her heart began to beat very wildly. All 
 her strength was leaving her. She tried 
 to call him, but her voice was gone. 
 Would he go by without seeing her? 
 She descended to the very last step ; some 
 one brushed rudely by and turned round 
 to look at her, and then called out jeer- 
 ingly, "A beggar! Away with the beg- 
 gars on Christmas Eve ! " 
 
 They all went by her with the cry, but 
 the last the tallest of the lads stopped 
 and leaned over her as he passed. Mar- 
 jorie paled beneath the sight of those blue 
 eyes. She put out her trembling hand. 
 
 " Gerald ! Gerald 1 " she whispered. 
 
 Gerald's eyes rested upon her but a 
 single moment, one cruelly short mo- 
 ment, while his heart stood still ; and then 
 he turned them away, those handsome 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 119 
 
 heaven-born eyes, turned them away 
 from her forever. He drew up his proud 
 young head, and a strange, wondering 
 smile played about his features, and 
 the next instant he was gone, crying 
 with the rest, " A beggar ! Away with 
 the beggars!" He had done better to 
 plunge a dagger into Little Marjorie's 
 heart. 
 
 She crept back and hid herself like 
 some wounded thing. She laid her little 
 head on the gray stone. There was 
 nothing left to her but loneliness and 
 misery. Gerald had seen her, and known 
 her, and forsaken her. She had waited 
 these long years, she had walked that 
 weary way, only to be with him, and he 
 had turned away from her in shame. 
 She sank upon the hard cold stones, so 
 weary, so hopeless, so broken-hearted 1 
 
120 Little Marjories Love-Story. 
 
 And there was not a human hand to 
 comfort her. 
 
 But the angels above, whose loving mis- 
 sion it is to care for the forsaken, had 
 pity on her when mortals would not. 
 In their arms, tenderly, lovingly, they 
 bore her pure white soul heavenward, 
 . and Little Marjorie, whose life had known 
 no joy, wakened at last amid the glories 
 of an eternal Christmas morn. 
 
 Ah, beautiful, beautiful waking ! Blessed 
 recompense that comes soon or late to 
 those who suffer! Let us not weep for 
 Little Marjorie as she lies there beneath 
 the arch of the gray Cathedral and the 
 cold bright stars shed their light upon 
 her peaceful face; the memory of her 
 earthly love is dead, and all her earthly 
 sorrows are done. 
 
Little Marjories Love-Story. 121 
 
 That night Gerald found no rest. His 
 dreams were haunted by that tender 
 image and its look of yearning love. 
 When the morning came, and the sun 
 rose over the white world, and sweet 
 sonorous bells rang out the gladness of 
 the Christmas-tide, it brought no joy to 
 him. The cruel look and words that 
 had broken Little Marjorie's spirit were 
 eating their way into his own heart. 
 Early he walked out toward the Cathe- 
 dral, led by a strange longing to see the 
 place where she had been, perhaps to find 
 her there waiting for him still; for beg- 
 gars often slept at the doors of the house 
 of God when they could find no other 
 shelter in the great city. He would go 
 to her and comfort her, he would take 
 her to him and ask to be forgiven, for 
 Marjorie had always been willing and 
 
122 Little Marjories Love -Story. 
 
 glad to forgive him ; and in the bit- 
 terness of his repentance he was already 
 giving her all that she had so needed, 
 unbidden. 
 
 But what he found when he reached 
 the steps of the Catheral was the aged 
 sexton kneeling beside a little figure lying 
 lifeless at the foot of the gray pillar. He 
 saw a little face not more pale in death 
 than it had been in life, but from whose 
 features every trace of sorrow had van- 
 ished. He saw the face of Little Marjorie 
 as it had aJways been to him, full of 
 sweetness and gentleness, with the patient 
 smile upon it that had been his only re- 
 buke, a face that in its glorified repose 
 said only 
 
 " It is too late ! " 
 
 Gerald never grew out of the memory 
 of that early childhood, so strangely 
 
Little Marjories Love -Story. 
 
 isolated and yet so blessed with 
 love for him, that sweet com- 
 panionship where she had given 
 and he had taken her all. Life 
 held great things for him, for 
 fortune looks not always to 
 those who deserve her gifts; 
 but it never again blessed him 
 with a love like this. When 
 Marjorie's eyes were closed to 
 him, the sweetest hope of his 
 life was dead, the hope of 
 atoning sometime for the sor- 
 row he had brought to her 
 unselfish heart. The mem- 
 ory of her tender love 
 clung to him 
 through all 
 the hours 
 of his great- 
 
 12 
 
124 Little Marjories Love- Story. 
 
 ness ; and when the dreams of his worldly 
 ambition were fulfilled, and the reward 
 of his great gift came to him at last, 
 he knew, and he knew truly, that no 
 recompense had been sweeter and no 
 gift more precious than the love of 
 Little Marjorie. 
 
 THE END. 
 
A SONG OF LIFE. 
 
 By MARGARET WARNER MORLEY. With profuse 
 Illustrations by the Author and by Robert 
 Forsyth. Price, $1.25. 
 
 ? -S- 
 
 THE plan and purpose of this work are at once very unusual 
 and admirable. A special student of biology and embryology 
 and a charming writer, the author also possesses the rare com- 
 bination of scientific, literary, and artistic attainments which 
 render such a work posssible. 
 
 It unfolds the mystery of plant and animal existence with 
 a charm of manner and delicacy of treatment that delight 
 while they instruct. Mothers who read it will quickly see its 
 value and will gladly put it into the hands of their sons and 
 daughters, to whom its beautiful and significant " Song of 
 Life " will hardly be sung in vain. 
 
 For sale by booksellers generally, or tvill be sent, post-paid, on 
 receipt of the price, by 
 
 *A. C. McCLURG AND CO., Publishers, 
 
 CHICAGO. 
 
SWEET WILLIAM. 
 
 By MARGUERITE BOUVET. With Illustrations 
 by Helen and Margaret /^"^j Armstrong. 
 Small quarto, 209 pages, /f^$ $1.50. 
 
 THIS very at- 
 tractive little vol- 
 ume is unlike any 
 other book we can 
 think of. It takes 
 us back to mediae- 
 val times, and in- 
 troduces us to the 
 lords and ladies 
 who then inhab- 
 ited the splendid 
 castle that still 
 looks down from 
 
 the heights of Mount St. Michael, on the coast of Normandy. 
 It tells the pathetic story (with a happy ending) of a little boy, 
 who had he lived to-day would have been a genuine Little Lord 
 Fauntleroy, and introduces us also to a Little Lady Fauntleroy, 
 with whom we cannot help falling in love. The illustrations 
 are singularly beautiful and appropriate, and make it altogether 
 one of the most attractive juvenile books of recent years. 
 
 For sale by booksellers generally, or will be sent, post-paid, on 
 receipt of the price, by 
 
 *4. C. McCLURG AND CO., Publishers, 
 
 CHICAGO. 
 
THE STORY OF TONTY. 
 
 An Historical Romance. By MARY HARTWELL 
 CATHERWOOD, author of "The Romance of 
 Dollard," " The Lady of Fort St. John," etc. 
 Profusely Illustrated from original drawings by 
 Mr. Enoch Ward. 12mo, 224 pages, $1.25. 
 
 " THE Story of Tonty," in which Mrs. Catherwood's genius 
 for historical romance reaches perhaps its highest manifestation, 
 is a Western story, beginning at Montreal, tarrying at Fort 
 Frontenac, and ending at the old fort at Starved Rock, on the 
 Illinois river. It weaves the adventures of the two great ex- 
 plorers, the intrepid La Salle and his faithful lieutenant, Tonty, 
 into a tale as thrilling and romantic as the descriptive portions 
 are brilliant and vivid. It is superbly illustrated with twenty- 
 three masterly drawings by Mr. Enoch Ward. 
 
 For sale by booksellers generally, or will be sent, post-paid, on 
 receipt of the price, by 
 
 e/f. C. McCLURG AND CO., Publishers, 
 c me A GO. 
 
gHORT HISTORY o* ENGLAND 
 
 FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. By Miss E. S. 
 KIRKLAND, author of " A Short History of France," 
 " Speech and Manners," etc. 
 
 i2mo, cloth, price, $1.25. 
 
 IN reviewing Miss Kirkland's " Short History of France," 
 the " Nation " said Miss Kirkland had " composed it in the way 
 in which a history for young people should be written." It is 
 therefore natural that many admirers of the earlier work should 
 have urged its author to write a history of England on the same 
 plan. This seemed especially desirable to those who think that 
 no history of England adapted to the needs of young people 
 now exists. Miss Kirkland has yielded to the urgency, and this 
 book is the result ; but it was not written until after years of 
 careful preparation. 
 
 It is believed that the book will be found to be even an 
 improvement upon her admirable history of France, as the 
 experience gained in writing that volume has greatly aided Miss 
 Kirkland in preparing this. It will not be found a book for 
 adults simply put into childish language, nor will it be found full 
 of the divine right of kings nor of the unwisdom of the American 
 colonies in breaking away from the good and parental govern- 
 ment of the mother country; but it will be found very inter- 
 esting, calm, judicial, and somewhat original in .its judgments, 
 thoroughly abreast with the results of recent investigations, 
 and making the effort at least to tell the entire story justly and 
 dispassionately, and with thought and language alike adapted 
 to the capacity and the needs of the young. 
 
 Sold by all booksellers, or mailed, on receipt of price, by 
 
 ^. C. McCLURG AND CO., Publishers, 
 
 Cor. Wabash Ave., and Madison St., Chicago. 
 
LAUREL-CROWNED TALES. 
 
 ABDALLAH; OR, THE FOUR-LEAVED SHAMROCK. By ED- 
 OUARD LABOULAYE. Translated by MARY L. BOOTH. 
 
 RASSELAS, PRINCE OF ABYSSINIA. By SAMUEL JOHNSON. 
 
 RAPHAEL ; OR, PAGES OF THE BOOK OF LIFE AT TWENTY. 
 From the French of ALPHONSE DE LAMARTINE. 
 
 THE VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. By OLIVER GOLDSMITH. 
 THE EPICUREAN. By THOMAS MOORE. 
 PICCIOLA. By X. B. SAINTINE. 
 
 Other volumes in preparation. 
 
 Handsomely printed from new plates, on fine laid pap3r, i2mo, 
 cloth, with gilt tops, price per volume, $1.00. 
 
 In half calf or half morocco, $2.75. 
 
 In planning this series, the publishers have aimed at a form 
 which should combine an unpretentious elegance suited to the fas- 
 tidious book-lover with an inexpensiveness that must appeal to the 
 most moderate buyer. 
 
 It is the intent to admit to the series only such tales as have 
 for years or for generations commended themselves not only to 
 the fastidious and the critical, but also to the great multitude of 
 the refined reading public, tales, in short, which combine purity 
 and classical beauty of style with perennial popularity. 
 
 Sold by all booksellers, or mailed, on receipt of price, by 
 
 A. C. McCLURG & CO., PUBLISHERS, 
 
 COR. WABASH AVE. AND MADISON ST., CHICAGO. 
 
EDUCATION and THE HIGHER LIFE. 
 
 By the Rt. Rev. J. L. SPALDING, 
 
 BISHOP OF PEORIA. 
 
 izmo, 210 pages. Price, $1.00. 
 
 READING these essays, one feels urged to purer thinking and 
 nobler doing. They incite to excellence of mind and to excellence 
 of soul. To one who feels pessimistic, narrow-minded, narrow- 
 souled, they come with joyous, faith-carrying words, which point 
 and lead to those higher truths of mind and soul which are free 
 from dogma of sect and creed, and which all lovers of the human 
 intellect and the divine intelligence delight to study. Public 
 Opin ion , Wash ington . 
 
 These essays are characterized by an elevation of thought, an 
 earnestness of purpose, which are well adapted to stir the soul to 
 nobler impulses and fuller consecration in the service of God and 
 man. . . . To all who are seeking mental and moral elevation, this 
 book will give many helpful hints. Methodist Magazine, Toronto. 
 
 This is not a large work, but it is a practical and valuable one. 
 It is full of nuggets of golden counsel. It is impossible to read 
 the book without feeling that Bishop Spalding understands the true 
 nature of education, which is not simply to stuff the mind, but to 
 train it. We wish that the book might be read by the intelligent 
 youth of our land. It would tend to enlighten their minds as to 
 the best aims and purposes of life. The Observer, New York. 
 
 The aspiring young men and women of the country will find in 
 these pages an earnest call to the higher life, a summons to fix 
 their attention on pure and lofty ideals of character, and ever ad- 
 vance toward them with firm and courageous steps. Unity, 
 Chicago. 
 
 The Bishop of Peoria enjoys more than a local fame as a 
 learned and eloquent man. There are many things wisely and well 
 said in this collection of essays. Living Church, Chicago. 
 
 It is a plea for culture as a means toward attaining the higher 
 life, and is a good word well spoken. The Inquirer, Phila- 
 delphia. 
 
 Sold by all booksellers, or mailed, on receipt of price, by 
 
 A. C. McCLURG & CO., PUBLISHERS, 
 
 COR. WABASH AVB. AND MADISON ST., CHICAGO. 
 
THE BRIDGE OF THE GODS. 
 
 A ROMANCE OF INDIAN OREGON. 
 By F. H. BALCH. 
 
 i2mo, 280 pages. Price, $1.25. 
 
 THIS is a masterly and original delineation of Indian life. It 
 is a strong story, charged with the elemental forces of the human 
 heart. The author portrays with unusual power the intense, stern 
 piety of the ministers of colonial New England, and the strange 
 mingling of dignity, superstition, ferocity, and stoicism that char- 
 acterized the early Indian warriors. 
 
 There is no need of romancing, and Mr. Balch's scenic descrip- 
 tions are for all practical purposes real descriptions. The legends 
 he relates of the great bridge which once spanned the Columbia, 
 for which there is some substantial history, adds to the mystical 
 charms of the story. His Indian characters are as real as if photo- 
 graphed from life. No writer has presented a finer character than 
 the great chief of the Willamettes, Multnomah ; Snoqualmie the 
 Cayuse; or Tohomish the Seer. The night visit of Multnomah to 
 the tomb of his dead wife upon that lonely island in the Willam- 
 ette is a picture that will forever live in the reader's memory. . . . 
 To those who have traversed the ground, and know something of 
 Indian character and the wild, free life of pioneer days, the story 
 will be charming Inter-Ocean, Chicago. 
 
 It is a truthful and realistic picture of the powerful Indian tribes 
 that inhabited the Oregon country two centuries ago. ... It is a 
 book that will be of value as a historical authority ; and as a story 
 of interest and charm, there are few novels that can rival it. - 
 Traveller, Boston, 
 
 There is much and deep insight in this book. The characters 
 stand in clear outline, and are original. The movement of the 
 story is quick and varied, like the running water of the great river. 
 The Pacific, San Francisco. 
 
 Its field is new for fiction ; it is obviously the work of one who 
 has bestowed a great deal of study on the subjects he would illus- 
 trate. It is very interesting reading, fluently written. Times, 
 Chicago. 
 
 Sold by all booksellers, or mailed, on receipt of price, by 
 
 A. C. McCLURG & CO., PUBLISHERS, 
 
 COR WABASH AVE. AND MADISON ST., CHICAGO. 
 
JTamtlt'ar 2Talfes; on astronomy* 
 
 WITH CHAPTERS ON GEOGRAPHY AND NAVIGATION, AND 
 A CAREFULLY PREPARED INDEX AND APPENDIX OF 
 DEFINITIONS. By WILLIAM HARWAR PARKER, author 
 of " Recollections of a Naval Officer," etc., etc. i2tno, 
 264 pages. $1.00. 
 
 Familiar Talks on Astronomy are so easy and pleasant that they 
 may well attract readers who would be repelled by a volume of 
 greater pretensions and more formal style. Even the little mathe- 
 matical explanations on which he now and then enters become 
 quite readable under his facile pen. Nation, New York. 
 
 The book is not written for scientists who are reckoned by 
 the hundreds but rather for the young student and general 
 reader, who is reckoned by the million. ... It is a valuable work. 
 . . . We wish there were more books of this character, in- 
 structive, readable, interesting without being too elementary. 
 American Engineer. 
 
 Captain Parker has given us just the book for the man who 
 knows but little of Astronomy, but is anxious to know more. 
 Clear, direct, and plain, our author is worthy of all commendation 
 in knowing just what to include in his talks. ... A carefully 
 compiled appendix of definitions, and a good index close a small 
 but excellent book. Living Church, Chicago. 
 
 It is exceedingly interesting, and is brought up to the mark of 
 the most recent knowledge. . . . There is nothing about the book 
 dry and forbidding. You are drawn at once into close and enthu- 
 siastic attention, as if one with suitable powers were actually talk- 
 ing to you. Express, Buffalo. 
 
 Sold by all booksellers, or mailed, on receipt of price, by 
 
 A. C. McCLURG & CO., PUBLISHERS, 
 
 COR. WABASH AVE. AND MADISON ST., CHICAGO 
 
SHORT HISTORY OF FRANCE, 
 FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. By Miss E. S. KIRK- 
 LAND, author of " Six Little Cooks," " Dora's House* 
 keeping," &c. 
 
 I2mo, cloth, price, $1.25. 
 
 " A very ably written sketch of French history, from the ear- 
 liest times to the foundation of the existing Republic." Cin*. 
 cinnati Gazette. 
 
 " The narrative is not dry on a single page, and the little his- 
 tory may be commended as the best of its kind that has yet 
 appeared." Bulletin, Philadelphia. 
 
 "A book both instructive and entertaining. It is not a dry 
 compendium of dates and facts, but a charmingly written his- 
 tory." Christian Union, New York. 
 
 " After a careful examination of its contents, we are able to 
 conscientiously give it our heartiest commendation. We know no 
 elementary history of France that can at all be compared with 
 it. " L iving Church. 
 
 " A spirited and entertaining sketch of the French people and 
 nation, one that will seize and hold the attention of all bright 
 boys and girls who have a chance to read it." Sunday After- 
 noon, Springfield (Mass.). 
 
 " We find its descriptions universally good, that it is admirably 
 simple and direct in style, without waste of words or timidity of 
 opinion. The book represents a great deal of patient labor and 
 conscientious study." Courant, Hartford (Conn.). 
 
 " Miss Kirkland has composed her ' Short History of France ' 
 in the way in which a history for young people ought to be writ- 
 ten ; that is, she has aimed to present a consecutive and agreea- 
 ble story, from which the reader can not only learn the names of 
 kings and the succession of events, but can also receive a vivid 
 and permanent impression as to the characters, modes of life, 
 and the spirit of different periods." The Nation, New York. 
 
 Sold by all booksellers, or mailed, on receipt of price, by 
 A. C. McCLURG & CO., PUBLISHERS, 
 
 COR. WABASH AVE. AND MADISON ST., CHICAGO- 
 
THE BOOK-LOVER. A Guide to the 
 Best Reading. By JAMES BALDWIN, Ph. D. 
 Sixth edition, i6mo, cloth, gilt top, 201 pages. Price, 
 #1.00. 
 
 In half calf or half morocco, $2.75. 
 
 Of this book, on the best in English Literature, which has 
 already been declared of the highest value by the testimony of 
 the best critics in this country, an edition of one thousand copies 
 has just been ordered for London, the home of English Liter- 
 ature, a compliment of which its scholarly western author may 
 justly be proud. 
 
 We know of no work of the kind -which gives so much useful 
 information in so small a space, -f Evening Telegram, New 
 York. 
 
 Sound in theory and in a practical point of view. The courses 
 of reading laid down are made of good books, and in general, of 
 the best. Independent, New York. 
 
 Mr. Baldwin has written in this monograph a delightful eulo- 
 gium of books and their manifold influence, and has gained 
 therein two classes of readers, the scholarly class, to which he 
 belongs, and the receptive class, which he has benefited. 
 Evening Mail and Express, New York. 
 
 If a man needs that the love of books be cultivated within him, 
 such a gem of a book as Dr. Baldwin's ought to do the work. 
 Perfect and inviting in all that a book ought outwardly to be, ks 
 contents are such as to instruct the mind at the same time that 
 they answer the taste, and the reader who goes carefully through 
 its two hundred pages ought not only to love books in general 
 better than he ever did before, but to love them more wisely, 
 more intelligently, more discriminatingly, and with more profit 
 to his own soul. Literary World, Boston- 
 
 Sold by all booksellers, or mailed on receipt of price, by 
 A. C. McCLURG & CO., PUBLISHERS, 
 
 COR. WABASH AVE. AND MADISON ST., CHICAGO 
 
TALES OF ANCIENT GREECE. 
 By the Rev. Sir G. W. Cox, Bart., M.A., Trinity 
 College, Oxford. 
 
 izmo, cloth, price, $1.25. 
 
 "Written apparently for young readers, it yet possesses a 
 charm of manner which will recommend it to all." The Ex- 
 aminer, London. 
 
 " It is only when we take up such a book as this that we real- 
 ize how rich in interest is the mythology of Greece." Inquirer , 
 Philadelphia. 
 
 "Admirable in style, and level with a child's comprehension. 
 These versions might well find a place in every family." The 
 Nation, New York. 
 
 " The author invests these stories with a charm of narrative 
 entirely peculiar. The book is a rich one in every way." 
 Standard, Chicago. 
 
 f< In Mr. Cox will be found yet another name to be enrolled 
 among those English writers who have vindicated for this coun- 
 try an honorable rank in the investigation of Greek history." 
 Edinburgh Review. 
 
 "It is doubtful if these tales antedating history in their 
 origin, and yet fresh with all the charms of youth to all who 
 read them for the first time were ever before presented in so 
 chaste and popular form." Golden Rule, Boston. 
 
 " The grace with which these old tales of the mythology are 
 re-told makes them as enchanting to the young as familiar fairy 
 tales or the 'Arabian Nights.' . . . We do not know of a Christ- 
 mas book which promises more lasting pleasures." Publishers' 
 Weekly. 
 
 " Its exterior fits it to adorn the drawing-room table, while its 
 contents are adapted to the entertainment of the most cultivatec 
 intelligence. . . . The book is a scholarly production, and a 
 welcome addition to a department of literature that is thus far 
 quite too scantily furnished." Tribune, Chicago. 
 
 Sold by all booksellers, or mailed, on receipt of price, by 
 A, C. McCLURG & CO., PUBLISHERS, 
 
 COR. WABASH AVE. AND MADISON ST., CHICAGO 
 
THE SURGEON'S STORIES. 
 
 By Z. TOPELIUS, Professor of History, University of Finland. 
 Translated from the original Swedish, comprising 
 
 TIMES OF GUSTAF ADOLF, 
 
 TIMES OF BATTLE AND REST, 
 TIMES OF CHARLES XII., 
 
 TIMES OF FREDERICK I., 
 
 TIMES OF LINNAEUS, 
 
 TIMES OF ALCHEMY 
 
 In cloth, per volume, 75 cents. 
 The same, in box, per set, $4.50. 
 
 These stories have been everywhere received with the greatest favor. 
 They cover the most interesting and exciting periods of Swedish and 
 Finnish history. They combine history and romance, and the two are 
 woven together in so skilful and attractive a manner that the reader 
 of one volume is rarely satisfied until he has read all. Of their distin- 
 guished author the Saturday Review, London, says, " He enjoys the 
 greatest celebrity among living Swedish writers;" and R. H. Stoddard 
 has styled them " the most important and certainly the most readable 
 series of foreign fiction that has been translated into English for many 
 years." They should stand on the shelves of every library, public and 
 private, beside the works of Sir Walter Scott. 
 
 The Graphic, New York, says: 
 
 "Topelius is evidently a great romancer, a great romancer in the 
 manner of Walter Scott. At moments in his writing there is positive 
 inspiration, a truth and vivid reality that are startling." 
 
 The Sun, Philadelphia, says: 
 
 "We would much prefer teaching a youth Swedish history from the 
 novels of Topelius than from any book of strict historical narrative." 
 
 The Standard, Chicago, says : 
 
 " The series as a whole deserves a place with the very best fiction of 
 the present time. The scenery is new to most readers; the historical 
 period covered one of transcendent interest ; the characters, the incidents, 
 the narrative style in each story are of the sort to carry the reader straight 
 through, from beginning to end, unwearied, and ready, as each volume 
 closes, to open the next in order." 
 
 Sold by all booksellers, or mailed, on receipt of price, by 
 
 A. C. McCLURG & CO., PUBLISHERS, 
 
 COR. WABASH AVE., AND MADISON ST., CHICAGO 
 
14 DAY USE 
 
 RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED 
 
 EDUCATION-PSYCHOLOGY 
 LIBRARY 
 
 This book is due on the last date stamped below, or 
 
 on the date to which renewed. 
 Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. 
 
 IV I 
 
 EC IS 1967 
 
 LD 21A-30?;i-6,'67 
 (H2472slO)476 
 
 General Library 
 
 University of California 
 
 Berkeley