Marie, by Laura E. Richards 
 
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Title: Marie 
Author: Laura E. Richards 
Release Date: November 11, 2004 [EBook #14018] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ASCII 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARIE *** 
 
Produced by Al Haines 
 
MARIE 
BY 
LAURA E. RICHARDS 
 
AUTHOR OF "CAPTAIN JANUARY," "MELODY," "QUEEN
HILDEGARDE," "NARCISSA," ETC. 
 
1894 
 
TO 
E. T. T. 
 
CONTENTS. 
CHAPTER 
I. 
MARIE II. "D'ARTHENAY, TENEZ FOI!" III. ABBY ROCK IV. 
POSSESSION V. COURTSHIP VI. WEDLOCK VII. LOOKING 
BACK VIII. A FLOWER IN THE SNOW IX. MADAME X. DE 
ARTHENAY'S VIGIL XI. VITA NUOVA 
 
MARIE. 
CHAPTER I. 
MARIE. 
Marie was tired. She had been walking nearly the whole day, and now 
the sun was low in the west, and long level rays of yellow light were 
spreading over the country, striking the windows of a farmhouse here 
and there into sudden flame, or resting more softly on tree-tops and 
hanging slopes. They were like fiddle-bows, Marie thought; and at the 
thought she held closer something that she carried in her arms, and 
murmured over it a little, as a mother coos over her baby. It seemed a
long time since she had run away from the troupe: she would forget all 
about them soon, she thought, and their ugly faces. She shivered 
slightly as she recalled the face of "Le Boss" as it was last bent upon 
her, frowning and dark, and as ugly as a hundred devils, she was quite 
sure. Ah, he would take away her violin--Le Boss! he would give it to 
his own girl, whom she, Marie, had taught till she could play a very 
little, enough to keep the birds from flying away when they saw her, as 
they otherwise might; she was to have the violin, the Lady, one's own 
heart and life, and Marie was to have a fiddle that he had picked up 
anywhere, found on an ash-heap, most likely! Ah, and now he had lost 
the Lady and Marie too, and who would play for him this evening, and 
draw the children out of the houses? he! let some one tell Marie that! It 
had not been hard, the running away, for no one would ever have 
thought of Marie's daring to do such a thing. She belonged to Le Boss, 
as much as the tent or the ponies, or his own ugly girl: so they all 
thought in the troupe, and so Marie herself had thought till that day; 
that is, she had not thought at all. While she could play all the time, and 
had often quite enough to eat, and always something, a piece of bread 
in the hand if no more,--and La Patronne, Le Boss's wife, never too 
unkind, and sometimes even giving her a bit of ribbon for the Lady's 
neck when there was to be a special performance,--why, who would 
have thought of running away? she had been with them so long, those 
others, and that time in France was so long ago,--hundreds of years 
ago! 
So no one had thought of noticing when she dropped behind to tune her 
violin and practise by herself; it was a thing she did every day, they all 
knew, for she could not practise when the children pulled her gown all 
the time, and wanted to dance. She had chosen the place well, having 
been on the lookout for it all day, ever since Le Boss told her what he 
meant to do,--that infamy which the good God would never have 
allowed, if He had not been perhaps tired with the many infamies of Le 
Boss, and forgotten to notice this one. She had chosen the place well! A 
little wood dipped down to the right, with a brook running beyond, and 
across the brook a sudden sharp rise, crowned with a thick growth of 
birches. She had played steadily as she passed through the wood and 
over the stream, and only ceased when she gained the brow of the hill
and sprang like a deer down the opposite slope. No one had seen her go, 
she was sure of that; and now they could never tell which way she had 
turned, and would be far more likely to run back along the road. How 
they would shout and scream, and how Le Boss would swear! Ah, no 
more would he swear at Marie because people did not always give 
money, being perhaps poor themselves, or unwilling to give to so ugly    
    
		
	
	
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