Petersburg High School - Missile Yearbook (Petersburg, VA)

Page 10 text:

G THE MISSILE. THE CALL OF THE RAIN. T yARGUERiTE DE Gracey stood before her win- 4 4 4 IW if dow in the Sacre’coeur Convent, and tears 41 mjVK rolled down her cheeks as she thought of the morrow when she would have to leave this place her — home — the only home she Tf ' » ' ' ♦ 4l ' 1 ' had ever known. I ' he curtain parted and Sister Cecile entered, but the girl at the window neither saw nor heard her. The nun did not see the tears, but she rightly interpreted her thoughts and with a gentleness which she seldom showed placed her hand on Marguerite’s shoulder. “Mademoiselle,” she whispered,” is it so bad? “Oh, Sister Cecile,” sobbed the girl, “I shall die, I know I shall ! I don’t want to go. I am unhappy as it is, but there I shall be miserable.” “Hush, Mademoiselle,” said the sister gently; you must not talk so. You know not the great happiness which is before you.” “Happiness ?” and the violet eyes blazed. ‘‘How can I be happy when I love him not ?” “But love will come. Mademoiselle. You will learn to love him and with a love stronger and truer than that which you could give him now.” “No, sister,” and the voice was gentle but sad, “I shall never care for him. I have loved but one man. He has my heart, and he shall keep it. I shall marry Prince Maz- zini because of the covenant which my father made with Prince Bohemud, but I shall be true to Lorraine.”

Page 9 text:

Published by the Students of the Petersburg High School, PETERSBURG. VIRGINIA. VOL. II. MAY, 1913. No. 5. There is a tiny flower, Whose eye is Heaven’s blue; It blooms in a sunnny bower, So faithful and so true. Little from it is heard. For silence is its lot; But when it speaks, its only word Is o’er and o’er: “Forget-me-not.” T. L. Roettger.

Page 11 text:

THE MISSILE. 7 Sister Cecile’s eyes were filled with tears and her voice held a sad note as she bade the girl good night, say- ing that they would leave in the morning at nine. Marguerite turned again to the window, but now it was quite dark. There was no moon in the sky, and the rain poured silently. The girl leaned her head on the case- ment and let her thoughts wander to years before. When she was only ten years old, her father had placed her hand in that of the little Prince who was only two years her senior, and the priest had pronounced them bound by a sacred promise to become man and wife at the end of nine years. She shuddered now as she thought of it. Every one had said that Mazzie was a handsome lad, but she had been so frightened she had never once looked on his face. Then five years later had come the visit to England, where she met Lorraine. How well she re- membered that day ! The rain had poured in torrents, and the boy had come with his uncle on a visit to the Duke of Louveni. She had loved him when she first saw him, although she was only a child then; and when she returned home, she had cried because Lorraine could not come. The next year she had been placed in the Sacre’coeur Convent and had stayed there two years when her father died. Lady de Gracey had then taken her daughter to England where they took up their resi- dence. Here they lived only a few months when the mother died and Marguerite was placed in a convent. But during that year she had seen Lorraine twice, and he, being madly in love with her, had told her of his love and had extracted a promise from her that when her con- vent life was over, she would marry him. The girl well remembered the day she had come back to the convent.