tion>Grace Livingston Hill
Marcia Schuyler
Published by Good Press, 2020
EAN 4064066105860
Table of Contents
"
[pg 7]
TO
THE DEAR MEMORY OF
MY FATHER
The Rev. CHARLES MONTGOMERY LIVINGSTON
WHOSE COMPANIONSHIP AND ENCOURAGEMENT
HAVE BEEN MY HELP THROUGH
THE YEARS
[pg 9]
Marcia Schuyler
CHAPTER I
The sun was already up and the grass blades were twinkling with sparkles of dew, as Marcia stepped from the kitchen door.
She wore a chocolate calico with little sprigs of red and white scattered over it, her hair was in smooth brown braids down her back, and there was a flush on her round cheeks that might have been but the reflection of the rosy light in the East. Her face was as untroubled as the summer morning, in its freshness, and her eyes as dreamy as the soft clouds that hovered upon the horizon uncertain where they were to be sent for the day.
Marcia walked lightly through the grass, and the way behind her sparkled again like that of the girl in the fairy-tale who left jewels wherever she passed.
A rail fence stopped her, which she mounted as though it had been a steed to carry her onward, and sat a moment looking at the beauty of the morning, her eyes taking on that far-away look that annoyed her stepmother when she wanted her to hurry with the dishes, or finish a long seam before it was time to get supper.
She loitered but a moment, for her mind was full of business, and she wished to accomplish much before the day was done. Swinging easily down to the other side of the fence she moved on through the meadow, over another fence, and another meadow, skirting the edge of a cool little strip of woods which lured her with its green mysterious shadows, its whispering leaves, and twittering birds. One wistful [pg 10] glance she gave into the sweet silence, seeing a clump of maiden-hair ferns rippling their feathery locks in the breeze. Then resolutely turning away she sped on to the slope of Blackberry Hill.
