Margaret Bruce Clarke

CHAPTER I. TEARS."A maid whom there were none to praise,And very few to love."—Wordsworth. Marjory was lying under a tree in the wood beyond her uncle's garden; her head was hidden in the long, soft coat of a black retriever, and she was crying—sobbing bitterly as if her heart would break, and as if nothing could ever comfort her again. "O Silky," she moaned, "if you only... more...