Margery Daw by Bertha M. Clay — Read

Margery was strangely affected when she learned that Sir Douglas Gerant was dead. She could not banish from her mind the thought that in some way her presence had caused him distress. The earl saw her pained face, and immediately determined to put all business affairs aside and take his wife down to Court Manor. So, on the afternoon following her visit to the late baronet, Margery was carried away from London to her new home.

When she arrived it was too dark for her to see her surroundings; but the pure freshness of the country air, the silence after the bustle and noise of the London streets, the faint soughing of the wind in the trees, brought a thrill of peace and gladness to her, and as she stood at the low, wide door and gazed around the quaint, rambling hall she looked so pleased and comforted that the earl's heart rejoiced. It was a delightful old-world place. The corners and crevices, the rooms filled with serviceable furniture of no modern date, the smell of the flowers, the glow of the firelight -- all seemed to speak of home. It was a haven of rest and quiet after the storm of the past few months. And if at night this feeling came, it was even stronger in the morning. As she drew her curtains aside and looked out over the wide vista of country, Margery gave a little sigh of relief. Here she had nothing to fear, nothing to remind her of the past; here it would be easy to forget and grow content.