Rebellion of Margaret, by 
Geraldine Mockler 
 
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Title: The Rebellion of Margaret 
Author: Geraldine Mockler 
Illustrator: Arthur Twidle 
Release Date: July 16, 2006 [EBook #18844] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE 
REBELLION OF MARGARET *** 
 
Produced by Louise Pryor, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed 
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net 
 
THE REBELLION OF MARGARET
BY GERALDINE MOCKLER 
AUTHOR OF "THE GIRLS OF ST. BEDE'S," ETC. 
ILLUSTRATED BY ARTHUR TWIDLE 
 
LONDON JARROLD & SONS, 10 & 11, Warwick Lane, E.C. 
 
CONTENTS 
CHAPTER 
I. 
Margaret's Dream Friend 
II. Margaret overhears a Conversation 
III. Margaret starts on a Journey 
IV. Margaret makes a Friend 
V. Eleanor Carson 
VI. Margaret and Eleanor change Names 
VII. Mrs. Murray meets the Train 
VIII. Maud Danvers 
IX. The Danvers Family 
X. Eleanor at Windy Gap 
XI. A Practical Joke
XII. Eleanor meets Margaret's Aunt 
XIII. Hilary turns Detective 
XIV. The Hour of Reckoning 
XV. An Unexpected Visitor 
XVI. Conclusion 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
"Margaret!" said the Old Man, breaking into speech at last, and in a 
very harsh voice: "What Folly is this?" 
"I am going for a Walk into the Town," she said, shyly 
Maud swung round and saw Margaret standing with a Pile of Letters by 
her Mother's Chair 
Eleanor turned to the Piano, and ran her Fingers Lightly over the Keys 
"That Girl," pointing a lean, accusing Finger at Eleanor, "is not my 
Granddaughter Margaret" 
CHAPTER I 
MARGARET'S DREAM FRIEND 
"Margaret Anstruther! Margaret Anstruther! Margaret Anstruther!" 
It was a sultry afternoon in early July. The sun was shining out of a 
cloudless blue sky, the air was so still and so overpoweringly hot that it 
seemed to have sent every living creature, save the owner of the voice 
that was calling upon Margaret Anstruther, to sleep, for no answer was 
returned to the thrice repeated call, and the silence which the summons 
had broken settled once more over the garden. Not a leaf on even one
of the topmost twigs of the huge old elms from underneath which that 
insistent voice had come was stirring, not an insect chirped, and the 
birds who held morning and evening concerts among the branches were 
silent now. 
"Margaret Anstruther, will you come and play tennis? My brothers 
Reginald and Lionel want a game, and if you will play we shall be four, 
and because you have not had much practice lately you shall play with 
Reginald, for he plays better than Lionel." 
Greystones was noted for its elm-trees. The grounds, indeed, contained 
little else in the shape of flowers or trees but elms. For a few brief 
weeks in spring when they were dressed in the tenderest of greens they 
were lovely, and in the autumn, if the leaves were not stripped off by 
gales before they had a chance to turn golden, their hues could vie with 
those flaunted by any other trees, but in the summer their dull, uniform 
green was apt to become monotonous, and Margaret Anstruther was 
then wont to declare that she could cheerfully have rooted up every one 
of them. 
But as the remark never reached any one else's ears but her own, no 
one's feelings were hurt. A chance visitor to Greystones, regular 
visitors were not encouraged, had once observed that the entire grounds, 
some thirty or forty acres in extent, which comprised the domain must 
have been an elm wood originally, and that a space just sufficient on 
which to erect a house of moderate dimensions had been cleared in the 
heart of it, Greystones had been built, a way cut through the trees to 
form a drive to the road a quarter of a mile distant from the house, and 
the rest of the wood left undisturbed to be called a garden or not as the 
owner pleased. 
Certainly the present owner had made no attempt to form a garden, but 
had allowed the elms to grow right up to the walls of the house and to 
darken the windows of the gloomily situated dwelling as much as they 
pleased. 
"Margaret Anstruther, if you will not come and play tennis, will you 
come for a ride upon your bicycle--that nice new one that you received
as a present from--from your grandfather." Here the speaker paused and 
laughed as if the idea of Margaret Anstruther getting a bicycle from her 
grandfather was a distinctly amusing idea. "We will go far, far along to 
the blue distance--much farther than you    
    
		
	
	
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