MAGGIE MILLER. 

THE STORY OF OLD HAGAR'S SECRET. 

By MARY J. HOLMES, Author of "Lena Rivers, " "Tempest and Sunshine, " "English Orphans, ""Dora Deane, " etc. , etc. 

"Lead us not into temptation. "

CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER

I. THE OLD HOUSE BY THE MILL

II. HAGAR'S SECRET

III. HESTER AND MAGGIE

IV. GIRLHOOD

V. TRIFLES

VI. THE JUNIOR PARTNER

VII. THE SENIOR PARTNER

VIII. STARS AND STRIPES

IX. ROSE WARNER

X. EXPECTED GUESTS

XI. UNEXPECTED GUESTS

XII. THE WATERS ARE TROUBLED

XIII. SOCIETY

XIV. MADAM CONWAY'S DISASTERS

XV. ARTHUR CARROLLTON AND MAGGIE

XVI. PERPLEXITY

XVII. BROTHER AND SISTER

XVIII. THE PEDDLER

XIX. THE TELLING OF THE SECRET

XX. THE RESULT

XXI. THE SISTERS

XXII. THE HOUSE OF MOURNING

XXIII. NIAGARA

XXIV. HOME

XXV. HAGAR

XXVI. AUGUST EIGHTEENTH, 1858

MAGGIE MILLER. 

CHAPTER I. 

THE OLD HOUSE BY THE MILL. 

'Mid the New England hills, and beneath the shadow of their dim oldwoods, is a running brook whose deep waters were not always as merryand frolicsome as now; for years before our story opens, pent up andimpeded in their course, they dashed angrily against their prisonwalls, and turned the creaking wheel of an old sawmill with a sullen, rebellious roar. The mill has gone to decay, and the sturdy men whofed it with the giant oaks of the forest are sleeping quietly in thevillage graveyard. The waters of the mill-pond, too, relieved fromtheir confinement, leap gayly over the ruined dam, tossing for amoment in wanton glee their locks of snow-white foam, and then flowingon, half fearfully as it were, through the deep gorge overhung withthe hemlock and the pine, where the shadows of twilight ever lie, andwhere the rocks frown gloomily down upon the stream below, which, emerging from the darkness, loses itself at last in the waters of thegracefully winding Chicopee, and leaves far behind the moss-coveredwalls of what is familiarly known as the "Old House by the Mill. "

'Tis a huge, old-fashioned building, distant nearly a mile from thepublic highway, and surrounded so thickly by forest trees that thebright sunlight, dancing merrily midst the rustling leaves above, falls but seldom on the time-stained walls of dark gray stone, wherethe damp and dews of more than a century have fallen, and where nowthe green moss clings with a loving grasp, as if 'twere its rightfulresting-place. When the thunders of the Revolution shook the hills ofthe Bay State, and the royal banner floated in the evening breeze, the house was owned by an old Englishman who, loyal to his king andcountry, denounced as rebels the followers of Washington. Againstthese, however, he would not raise his hand, for among them were manylong-tried friends who had gathered with him around the festal board;so he chose the only remaining alternative, and went back to hisnative country, cherishing the hope that he should one day return tothe home he loved so well, and listen again to the musical flow of thebrook, which could be distinctly heard from the door of the mansion. But his wish was vain, for when at last America was free and theBritish troops recalled, he slept beneath the sod of England, and theold house was for many years deserted. The Englishman had been greatlybeloved, and his property was unmolested, while the weeds and grassgrew tall and rank in the garden beds, and the birds of heaven builttheir nests beneath the projecting roof or held a holiday in thegloomy, silent rooms. 

As time passed on, however, and no one appeared to dispute theirright, different families occupied the house at intervals, until atlast, when nearly fifty years had elapsed, news was one day receivedthat Madam Conway, a granddaughter of the old Englishman, having metwith reverses at home, had determined to emigrate to the New World, and remembering the "House by the Mill, " of which she had heard somuch, she wished to know if peaceable possession of it would beallowed her, in case she decided upon removing thither and making ither future home. To this plan no objection was made, for the agedpeople of Hillsdale still cherished the memory of the hospitable oldman whose locks were gray while they were yet but children, and theyounger portion of the community hoped for a renewal of the gayetieswhich they had heard were once so common at the old stone house. 

But in this they were disappointed, for Madam Conway was a proud, unsociable woman, desiring no acquaintance whatever with herneighbors, who, after many ineffectual attempts at something likefriendly intercourse, concluded to leave her entirely alone, andcontented themselves with watching the progress of matters at "MillFarm, " as she designated the place, which soon began to show visiblemarks of improvement. The Englishman was a man of taste, and MadamConway's first work was an attempt to restore the grounds to somethingof their former beauty. The yard and garden were cleared of weeds, the walks and flower-beds laid out with care, and then the neighborslooked to see her cut away a few of the multitude of trees which hadsprung up around her home. But this she had no intention of doing. "They shut me out, " she said, "from the prying eyes of the vulgar, andI would rather it should be so. " So the trees remained, throwing theirlong shadows upon the high, narrow windows, and into the large squarerooms, where the morning light and the noonday heat seldom foundentrance, and which seemed like so many cold, silent caverns, withtheir old-fashioned massive furniture, their dark, heavy curtains, andthe noiseless footfall of the stately lady, who moved ever with thesame measured tread, speaking always softly and low to the householdservants, who, having been trained in her service, had followed heracross the sea. 

From these the neighbors learned that Madam Conway had in Londona married daughter, Mrs. Miller; that old Hagar Warren, thestrange-looking woman who more than anyone else shared her mistress'confidence, had grown up in the family, receiving a very goodeducation, and had nursed their young mistress, Miss Margaret, whichof course entitled her to more respect than was usually bestowed uponmenials like her; that Madam Conway was very aristocratic, very proudof her high English blood; that though she lived alone she attendedstrictly to all the formalities of high life, dressing each day withthe utmost precision for her solitary dinner--dining off a serviceof solid silver, and presiding with great dignity in her straight, high-backed chair. She was fond, too, of the ruby wine, and her cellarwas stored with the choicest liquors, some of which she had broughtwith her from home, while others, it was said, had belonged toher grandfather, and for half a century had remained unseen andunmolested, while the cobwebs of time had woven around them a mistycovering, making them still more valuable to the lady, who knew fullwell how age improved such things. 

Regularly each day she rode in her ponderous carriage, sometimes aloneand sometimes accompanied by Hester, the daughter of old Hagar, ahandsome, intelligent-looking girl, who, after two or three yearsof comparative idleness at Mill Farm, went to Meriden, Conn. , asseamstress in a family which had advertised for such a person. Withher departed the only life of the house, and during the following yearthere ensued a monotonous quiet, which was broken at last for Hagar bythe startling announcement that her daughter's young mistress had diedfour months before, and the husband, a gray-haired, elderly man, hadproved conclusively that he was in his dotage by talking of marriageto Hester, who, ere the letter reached her mother, would probably bethe third bride of one whose reputed wealth was the only possibleinducement to a girl like Hester Warren. 

With an immense degree of satisfaction Hagar read the letter through, exulting that fortune had favored her at last. Possessed of manysterling qualities, Hagar Warren had one glaring fault, which hadimbittered her whole life. Why others were rich while she was poor shecould not understand, and her heart rebelled at the fate which hadmade her what she was. 

But Hester would be wealthy--nay, would perhaps one day rival thehaughty Mrs. Miller across the water, who had been her playmate; therewas comfort in that, and she wrote to her daughter expressing herentire approbation, and hinting vaguely of the possibility that sheherself might some time cease to be a servant, and help do the honorsof Mr. Hamilton's house! To this there came no reply, and Hagar wasthinking seriously of making a visit to Meriden, when one rainyautumnal night, nearly a year after Hester's marriage, there cameanother letter sealed with black. With a sad foreboding Hagar openedit, and read that Mr. Hamilton had failed; that his house and farmwere sold, and that he, overwhelmed with mortification both at hisfailure and the opposition of his friends to his last marriage, haddied suddenly, leaving Hester with no home in the wide world unlessMadam Conway received her again into her family. 

"Just my luck!" was Hagar's mental comment, as she finished readingthe letter and carried it to her mistress, who had always likedHester, and who readily consented to give her a home, provided she puton no airs from having been for a time the wife of a reputed wealthyman. "Mustn't put on airs!" muttered Hagar, as she left the room. "Just as if airs wasn't for anybody but high bloods!" And with thecanker-worm of envy at her heart she wrote to Hester, who cameimmediately; and Hagar--when she heard her tell the story of herwrongs, how her husband's sister, indignant at his marriage with asewing-girl, had removed from him the children, one a stepchild andone his own, and how of all his vast fortune there was not left forher a penny--experienced again the old bitterness of feeling, andmurmured that fate should thus deal with her and hers. 

With the next day's mail there came to Madam Conway a letter bearinga foreign postmark, and bringing the sad news that her son-in-law hadbeen lost in a storm while crossing the English Channel, and thather daughter Margaret, utterly crushed and heartbroken, would sailimmediately for America, where she wished only to lay her weary headupon her mother's bosom and die. 

"So there is one person that has no respect for blood, and that isDeath, " said old Hagar to her mistress, when she heard the news. "Hehas served us both alike, he has taken my son-in-law first and yoursnext. "

Frowning haughtily, Madam Conway bade her be silent, telling her atthe same time to see that the rooms in the north part of the buildingwere put in perfect order for Mrs. Miller, who would probably come inthe next vessel. In sullen silence Hagar withdrew, and for severaldays worked half reluctantly in the "north rooms, " as Madam Conwaytermed a comparatively pleasant, airy suite of apartments, with abalcony above, which looked out upon the old mill-dam and the brookpouring over it. 

"There'll be big doings when my lady comes, " said Hagar one day to herdaughter. "It'll be Hagar here, and Hagar there, and Hagar everywhere, but I shan't hurry myself. I'm getting too old to wait on a chit likeher. "

"Don't talk so, mother, " said Hester. "Margaret was always kind to me. She is not to blame for being rich, while I am poor. "

"But somebody's to blame, " interrupted old Hagar. "You was alwaysaccounted the handsomest and cleverest of the two, and yet for allyou'll be nothing but a drudge to wait on her and the little girl. "

Hester only sighed in reply, while her thoughts went forward tothe future and what it would probably bring her. Hester Warren andMargaret Conway had been children together, and in spite of thedifference of their stations they had loved each other dearly; andwhen at last the weary traveler came, with her pale sad face andmourning garb, none gave her so heartfelt a welcome as Hester; andduring the week when, from exhaustion and excitement, she was confinedto her bed, it was Hester who nursed her with the utmost care, soothing her to sleep, and then amusing the little Theo, a childof two years. Hagar, too, softened by her young mistress' sorrow, repented of her harsh words, and watched each night with the invalid, who once, when her mind seemed wandering far back in the past, whispered softly, "Tell me the Lord's prayer, dear Hagar, just as youtold it to me years ago when I was a little child. "

It was a long time since Hagar had breathed that prayer, but at Mrs. Miller's request she commenced it, repeating it correctly until shecame to the words, "Give us this day our daily bread"; then shehesitated, and bending forward said, "What comes next, Miss Margaret?Is it 'Lead us not into temptation?"

"Yes, yes, " whispered the half-unconscious lady. "'Lead us not intotemptation, ' that's it. " Then, as if there were around her a dimforeboding of the great wrong Hagar was to do, she took her oldnurse's hand between her own, and continued, "Say it often, Hagar, 'Lead us not into temptation'; you have much need for that prayer. "

A moment more, and Margaret Miller slept, while beside her sat HagarWarren, half shuddering, she knew not why, as she thought of hermistress' words, which seemed to her so much like the spirit ofprophecy. 

"Why do I need that prayer more than anyone else?" she said at last. "I have never been tempted more than I could bear--never shall betempted--and if I am, old Hagar Warren, bad as she is, can resisttemptation without that prayer. "

Still, reason as she would, Hagar could not shake off the strangefeeling, and as she sat half dozing in her chair, with the dimlamplight flickering over her dark face, she fancied that the Octoberwind, sighing so mournfully through the locust trees beneath thewindow, and then dying away in the distance, bore upon its wing, "'Lead us not into temptation. ' Hagar, you have much need to say thatprayer. "

Aye, Hagar Warren--much need, much need!

CHAPTER II

HAGAR'S SECRET. 

The wintry winds were blowing cold and chill around the old stonehouse, and the deep untrodden snow lay highly piled upon the ground. For many days the gray, leaden clouds had frowned gloomily down uponthe earth below, covering it with a thick veil of white. But the stormwas over now; with the setting sun it had gone to rest, and the palemoonlight stole softly into the silent chamber, where Madam Conwaybent anxiously down to see if but the faintest breath came from theparted lips of her only daughter. There had been born to her thatnight another grandchild--a little, helpless girl, which now in anadjoining room was Hagar's special care; and Hagar, sitting there withthe wee creature upon her lap, and the dread fear at her heart thather young mistress might die, forgot for once to repine at her lot, and did cheerfully whatever was required of her to do. 

There was silence in the rooms below--silence in the chambersabove, --silence everywhere, --for the sick woman seemed fast nearingthe deep, dark river whose waters move onward, but never return. 

Almost a week went by, and then, in a room far more humble than whereMargaret Miller lay, another immortal being was given to the world;and, with a softened light in her keen black eyes, old Hagar told toher stately mistress, when she met her on the stair, that she too wasa grandmother. 

"You must not on that account neglect Margaret's child, " was MadamConway's answer, as with a wave of her hand she passed on; and thiswas all she said--not a word of sympathy or congratulation for thepeculiar old woman whose heart, so long benumbed, had been roused toa better state of feeling, and who in the first joy of her newbornhappiness had hurried to her mistress, fancying for the moment thatshe was almost her equal. 

"Don't neglect Margaret's child for that!" How the words rang in herears as she fled up the narrow stairs and through the dark hall, tillthe low room was reached where lay the babe for whom Margaret's childwas not to be neglected. All the old bitterness had returned, and ashour after hour went by, and Madam Conway came not near, while thephysician and the servants looked in for a moment only and thenhurried away to the other sickroom, where all their services were keptin requisition, she muttered: "Little would they care if Hester diedupon my hands. And she will die too, " she continued, as by the fadingdaylight she saw the pallor deepen on her daughter's face. 

And Hagar was right, for Hester's sands were nearer run than those ofMrs. Miller. The utmost care might not, perhaps, have saved her; butthe matter was not tested; and when the long clock at the head of thestairs struck the hour of midnight she murmured: "It is getting darkhere, mother--so dark--and I am growing cold. Can it be death?"

"Yes, Hester, 'tis death, " answered Hagar, and her voice wasunnaturally calm as she laid her hand on the clammy brow of herdaughter. 

An hour later, and Madam Conway, who sat dozing in the parlor below, ready for any summons which might come from Margaret's room, wasroused by the touch of a cold, hard hand, and Hagar Warren stoodbefore her. 

"Come, " she said, "come with me;" and, thinking only of Margaret, Madam Conway arose to follow her. "Not there--but this way, " saidHagar, as her mistress turned towards Mrs. Miller's door, and graspingfirmly the lady's arm she led to the room where Hester lay dead, withher young baby clasped lovingly to her bosom. "Look at her--and pityme now, if you never did before. She was all I had in the world tolove, " said Hagar passionately. 

Madam Conway was not naturally a hard-hearted woman, and she answeredgently: "I do pity you, Hagar, and I did not think Hester was so ill. Why haven't you let me know?" To this Hagar made no direct reply, andafter a few more inquiries Madam Conway left the room, saying shewould send up the servants to do whatever was necessary. When it wasknown throughout the house that Hester was dead much surprise wasexpressed and a good deal of sympathy manifested for old Hagar, who, with a gloomy brow, hugged to her heart the demon of jealousy, whichkept whispering to her of the difference there would be were Margaretto die. It was deemed advisable to keep Hester's death a secret fromMrs. Miller; so, with as little ceremony as possible, the body wasburied at the close of the day, in an inclosure which had been setapart as a family burying-ground; and when again the night shadowsfell Hagar Warren sat in her silent room, brooding over her grief, andlooking oft at the plain pine cradle where lay the little motherlesschild, her granddaughter. Occasionally, too, her eye wandered towardsthe mahogany crib, where another infant slept. Perfect quiet seemednecessary for Mrs. Miller, and Madam Conway had ordered her baby tobe removed from the antechamber where first it had been kept, so thatHagar had the two children in her own room. 

In the pine cradle there was a rustling sound; the baby was awaking, and taking it upon her lap Hagar soothed it again to sleep, gazingearnestly upon it to see if it were like its mother. It was a bright, healthy-looking infant, and though five days younger than that of Mrs. Miller was quite as large and looked as old. 

"And you will be a drudge, while she will be a lady, " muttered Hagar, as her tears fell on the face of the sleeping child. "Why need thisdifference be?"

Old Hagar had forgotten the words "Lead us not into temptation"; andwhen the Tempter answered, "It need not be, " she only started suddenlyas if smitten by a heavy blow; but she did not drive him from her, andshe sat there reasoning with herself that "it need not be. " Neitherthe physician nor Madam Conway had paid any attention to Margaret'schild; it had been her special care, while no one had noticed hers, and newly born babies were so much alike that deception was an easymatter. But could she do it? Could she bear that secret on her soul?Madam Conway, though proud, had been kind to her, and could she thusdeceive her! Would her daughter, sleeping in her early grave, approvethe deed. "No, no, " she answered aloud, "she would not!" and the greatdrops of perspiration stood thick upon her dark, haggard face as shearose and laid back in her cradle the child whom she had thought tomake an heiress. 

For a time the Tempter left her, but returned ere long, and creepinginto her heart sung to her beautiful songs of the future which mightbe were Hester's baby a lady. And Hagar, listening to that song, fell asleep, dreaming that the deed was done by other agency thanhers--that the little face resting on the downy pillow, and shadedby the costly lace, was lowly born; while the child wrapped in thecoarser blanket came of nobler blood, even that of the Conways, whoboasted more than one lordly title. With a nervous start she awokeat last, and creeping to the cradle of mahogany looked to see if herdream were true; but it was not. She knew it by the pinched, bluelook about the nose, and the thin covering of hair. This was all thedifference which even her eye could see, and probably no other personhad noticed that, for the child had never been seen save in a darkenedroom. 

The sin was growing gradually less heinous, and she could now calmlycalculate the chances for detection. Still, the conflict was long andsevere, and it was not until morning that the Tempter gained a pointby compromising the matter, and suggesting that while dressing theinfants she should change their clothes for once, just to see howfine cambrics and soft flannels would look upon a grandchild of HagarWarren! "I can easily change them again--it is only an experiment, "she said, as with trembling hands she proceeded to divest the childrenof their wrappings. But her fingers seemed all thumbs, and more thanone sharp pin pierced the tender flesh of her little grandchild as shefastened together the embroidered slip, teaching her thus early, hadshe been able to learn the lesson, that the pathway of the rich is notfree from thorns. 

Their toilet was completed at last--their cradle beds exchanged; andthen, with a strange, undefined feeling, old Hagar stood back andlooked to see how the little usurper became her new position. Shebecame it well, and to Hagar's partial eyes it seemed more meet thatshe should lie there beneath the silken covering than the other one, whose nose looked still more pinched and blue in the plain white dressand cradle of pine. Still, there was a gnawing pain at Hagar's heart, and she would perhaps have undone the wrong had not Madam Conwayappeared with inquiries for the baby's health. Hagar could not faceher mistress, so she turned away and pretended to busy herself withthe arrangement of the room, while the lady, bending over the cradle, said, "I think she is improving, Hagar; I never saw her look so well";and she pushed back the window curtain to obtain a better view. 

With a wild, startled look in her eye, Hagar held her breath to hearwhat might come next, but her fears were groundless; for, in heranxiety for her daughter, Madam Conway had heretofore scarcely seenher grandchild, and had no suspicion now that the sleeper before herwas of plebeian birth, nor yet that the other little one, at whom shedid not deign to look, was bone of her bone and flesh of her flesh. She started to leave the room, but, impelled by some sudden impulse, turned back and stooped to kiss the child. Involuntarily old Hagarsprang forward to stay the act, and grasped the lady's arm, but shewas too late; the aristocratic lips had touched the cheek of HagarWarren's grandchild, and the secret, if now confessed, would never beforgiven. 

"It can't be helped, " muttered Hagar, and then, when Mrs. Conway askedan explanation of her conduct, she answered, "I was afraid you'd wakeher up, and mercy knows I've had worry enough with both the brats. "

Not till then had Madam Conway observed how haggard and worn wasHagar's face, and instead of reproving her for her boldness she saidgently: "You have indeed been sorely tried! Shall I send up Bertha torelieve you!"

"No, no, " answered Hagar hurriedly, "I am better alone. "

The next moment Madam Conway was moving silently down the narrowhall, while Hagar on her knees was weeping passionately. One word ofkindness had effected more than a thousand reproaches would have done;and wringing her hands she cried, "I will not do it; I cannot. "

Approaching the cradle, she was about to lift the child, when againMadam Conway was at the door. She had come, she said, to take the babeto Margaret, who seemed better this morning, and had asked to see it. 

"Not now, not now. Wait till I put on her a handsomer dress, and I'llbring her myself, " pleaded Hagar. 

But Madam Conway saw no fault in the fine cambric wrapper, andtaking the infant in her arms she walked away, while Hagar followedstealthily. Very lovingly the mother folded to her bosom the babe, calling it her fatherless one, and wetting its face with her tears, while through the half-closed door peered Hagar's wild dark eyes--onemoment lighting up with exultation as she muttered, "It's my flesh, my blood, proud lady!" and the next growing dim with tears, as shethought of the evil she had done. 

"I did not know she had so much hair, " said Mrs. Miller, parting thesilken locks. "I think it will be like mine, " and she gave the childto her mother, while Hagar glided swiftly back to her room. 

That afternoon the clergyman whose church Mrs. Conway usuallyattended, called to see Mrs. Miller, who suggested that both thechildren should receive the rite of baptism. Hagar was accordinglybidden to prepare them for the ceremony, and resolving to make onemore effort to undo what she had done she dressed the child whom shehad thought to wrong in its own clothes, and then anxiously awaitedher mistress' coming. 

"Hagar Warren! What does this mean? Are you crazy!" sternly demandedMadam Conway, when the old nurse held up before her the child with theblue nose. 

"No, not crazy yet; but I shall be, if you don't take this one first, "answered Hagar. 

More than once that day Madam Conway had heard the servants hint thatHagar's grief had driven her insane; and now when she observed theunnatural brightness in her eyes, and saw what she had done, she toothought it possible that her mind was partially unsettled; so she saidgently, but firmly: "This is no time for foolishness, Hagar. They arewaiting for us in the sickroom; so make haste and change the baby'sdress. "

There was something authoritative in her manner, and Hagar obeyed, whispering incoherently to herself, and thus further confirmingher mistress' suspicions that she was partially insane. During theceremony she stood tall and erect like some dark, grim statue, herhands firmly locked together, and her eyes fixed upon the face ofthe little one who was baptized Margaret Miller. As the clergymanpronounced that name she uttered a low, gasping moan, but her facebetrayed no emotion, and very calmly she stepped forward with theother child upon her arm. 

"What name?" asked the minister; and she answered, "Her mother's; callher for her mother!"

"Hester, " said Madam Conway, turning to the clergyman, who understoodnothing from Hagar's reply. 

So Hester was the name given to the child in whose veins the blood ofEnglish noblemen was flowing; and when the ceremony was ended Hagarbore back to her room Hester Hamilton, the child defrauded of herbirthright, and Maggie Miller, the heroine of our story. 

CHAPTER III

HESTER AND MAGGIE. 

"It is over now, " old Hagar thought, as she laid the children upontheir pillows. "The deed is done, and by their own hands too. There isnothing left for me now but a confession, and that I cannot make;" sowith a heavy weight upon her soul she sat down, resolving to keep herown counsel and abide the consequence, whatever it might be. 

But it wore upon her terribly, --that secret, --and though it helpedin a measure to divert her mind from dwelling too much upon herdaughter's death it haunted her continually, making her a strange, eccentric woman whom the servants persisted in calling crazy, whileeven Madam Conway failed to comprehend her. Her face, always dark, seemed to have acquired a darker, harder look, while her eyes wore awild, startled expression, as if she were constantly followed by sometormenting fear. At first Mrs. Miller objected to trusting her withthe babe; but when Madam Conway suggested that the woman who hadcharge of little Theo should also take care of Maggie she fell uponher knees and begged most piteously that the child might not be takenfrom her. "Everything I have ever loved has left me, " said she, "and Icannot give her up. "

"But they say you are crazy, " answered Madam Conway, somewhatsurprised that Hagar should manifest so much affection for a child notat all connected to her. "They say you are crazy, and no one trusts acrazy woman. "

"Crazy!" repeated Hagar half-scornfully; "crazy--'tis notcraziness--'tis the trouble--the trouble--that's killing me! But I'llhide it closer than it's hidden now, " she continued, "if you'll lether stay; and 'fore Heaven I swear that sooner than harm one hair ofMaggie's head I'd part with my own life;" and taking the sleepingchild in her arms she stood like a wild beast at bay. 

Madam Conway did not herself really believe in Hagar's insanity. Shehad heretofore been perfectly faithful to whatever was committed toher care, so she bade her be quiet, saying they would trust her for atime. 

"It's the talking to myself, " said Hagar, when left alone. "It's thetalking to myself which makes them call me crazy; and though I mighttalk to many a worse woman than old Hagar Warren, I'll stop it; I'llbe still as the grave, and when next they gossip about me it shall beof something besides craziness. "

So Hagar became suddenly silent and uncommunicative, mingling butlittle with the servants, but staying all day long in her room, whereshe watched the children with untiring care. Especially was she kindto Hester, who as time passed on proved to be a puny, sickly thing, never noticing anyone, but moaning frequently as if in pain. Verytenderly old Hagar nursed her, carrying her often in her arms untilthey ached from very weariness, while Madam Conway, who watched herwith a vigilant eye, complained that she neglected little Maggie. 

"And what if I do?" returned Hagar somewhat bitterly. "Aint there avast difference between the two? S'pose Hester was your own flesh andblood, would you think I could do too much for the poor thing?" Andshe glanced compassionately at the poor wasted form which lay upon herlap, gasping for breath, and presenting a striking contrast to littleMaggie, who in her cradle was crowing and laughing in childish glee atthe bright firelight which blazed upon the hearth. 

Maggie was indeed a beautiful child. From her mother she had inheritedthe boon of perfect health, and she throve well in spite of the bumpedheads and pinched fingers which frequently fell to her lot, when Hagarwas too busy with the feeble child to notice her. The plaything of thewhole house, she was greatly petted by the servants, who vied witheach other in tracing points of resemblance between her and theConways; while the grandmother prided herself particularly on thearched eyebrows and finely cut upper lip, which she said were suremarks of high blood, and never found in the lower ranks! With ascornful expression on her face, old Hagar would listen to theseremarks, and then, when sure that no one heard her, she would mutter:"Marks of blood! What nonsense! I'm almost glad I've solved theriddle, and know 'taint blood that makes the difference. Just tellher the truth once, and she'd quickly change her mind. Hester's blue, pinched nose, which makes one think of fits, would be the very essenceof aristocracy, while Maggie's lip would come of the little Paddyblood there is running in her veins!"

And still Madam Conway herself was not one-half so proud of thebright, playful Maggie as was old Hagar, who, when they were alone, would hug her to her bosom, and gaze fondly on her fair, round faceand locks of silken hair, so like those now resting in the grave. Inthe meantime Mrs. Miller, who since her daughter's birth, had neverleft her room, was growing daily weaker, and when Maggie was nearlynine months old she died, with the little one folded to her bosom, just as Hester Hamilton had held it when she too passed from earth. 

"Doubly blessed, " whispered old Hagar, who was present, and then whenshe remembered that to poor little Hester a mother's blessing wouldnever be given she felt that her load of guilt was greater than shecould bear. "She will perhaps forgive me if I confess it to herover Miss Margaret's coffin, " she thought; and once when they stoodtogether by the sleeping dead, and Madam Conway, with Maggie in herarms, was bidding the child kiss the clay-cold lips of its mother, oldHagar attempted to tell her. "Could you bear Miss Margaret's death aswell, " she said, "if Maggie, instead of being bright and playfulas she is, were weak and sick like Hester?" and her eyes fastenedthemselves upon Madam Conway with an agonizing intensity which thatlady could not fathom. "Say, would you bear it as well--could you loveher as much--would you change with me, take Hester for your own, andgive me little Maggie?" she persisted, and Madam Conway, surprisedat her excited manner, which she attributed in a measure to envy, answered coldly: "Of course not. Still, if God had seen fit to give mea child like Hester, I should try to be reconciled, but I am thankfulhe has not thus dealt with me. "

"'Tis enough. I am satisfied, " thought Hagar. "She would not thank mefor telling her. The secret shall be kept;" and half exultingly sheanticipated the pride she should feel in seeing her granddaughtergrown up a lady and an heiress. 

Anon, however, there came stealing over her a feeling of remorse, asshe reflected that the child defrauded of its birthright would, if itlived, be compelled to serve in the capacity of a servant; and many anight, when all else was silent in the old stone house, she paced upand down the room, her long hair, now fast turning gray, falling overher shoulders, and her large eyes dimmed with tears, as she thoughtwhat the future would bring to the infant she carried in her arms. 

But the evil she so much dreaded never came, for when the winter snowswere again falling they made a little grave beneath the same pine treewhere Hester Hamilton lay sleeping, and, while they dug that grave, old Hagar sat, with folded arms and tearless eyes, gazing fixedly uponthe still white face and thin blue lips which would never again bedistorted with pain. Her habit of talking to herself had returned, andas she sat there she would at intervals whisper: "Poor little babe! Iwould willingly have cared for you all my life, but I am glad youare gone to Miss Margaret, who, it may be, will wonder what littlethin-faced angel is calling her mother! But somebody'll introduce you, somebody'll tell her who you are, and when she knows how proud hermother is of Maggie she'll forgive old Hagar Warren!"

"Gone stark mad!" was the report carried by the servants to theirmistress, who believed the story when Hagar herself came to her withthe request that Hester might be buried in some of Maggie's clothes. 

Touched with pity by her worn, haggard face, Madam Conway answered, "Yes, take some of her common ones, " and, choosing the cambric robewhich Hester had worn on the morning when the exchange was made, Hagardressed the body for the grave. When at last everything was ready, and the tiny coffin stood upon the table, Madam Conway drew near andlooked for a moment on the emaciated form which rested quietly fromall its pain. Hovering at her side was Hagar, and feeling it her dutyto say a word of comfort the stately lady remarked that it was bestthe babe should die; that were it her grandchild she should feelrelieved; for had it lived, it would undoubtedly have been physicallyand intellectually feeble. 

"Thank you! I am considerably comforted, " was the cool reply of Hagar, who felt how cruel were the words, and who for a moment was stronglytempted to claim the beautiful Maggie as her own, and give back to thecold, proud woman the senseless clay on which she looked so calmly. 

But love for her grandchild conquered. There was nothing in the way ofher advancement now, and when at the grave she knelt her down to weep, as the bystanders thought, over her dead, she was breathing there avow that never so long as she lived should the secret of Maggie'sbirth be given to the world unless some circumstance then unforeseenshould make it absolutely and unavoidably necessary. To see Maggiegrow up into a beautiful, refined, and cultivated woman was now thegreat object of Hagar's life; and, fearing lest by some inadvertentword or action the secret should be disclosed, she wished to live byherself, where naught but the winds of heaven could listen to theincoherent whisperings which made her fellow-servants accuse her ofinsanity. 

Down in the deepest shadow of the woods, and distant from the oldstone house nearly a mile, was a half-ruined cottage which, yearsbefore, had been occupied by miners, who had dug in the hillsidefor particles of yellow ore which they fancied to be gold. Long andfrequent were the night revels said to have been held in the old hut, which had at last fallen into bad repute and been for years deserted. To one like Hagar, however, there was nothing intimidating in itscreaking old floors, its rattling windows and noisome chimney, wherethe bats and the swallows built their nests; and when one day MadamConway proposed giving little Maggie into the charge of a younger andless nervous person than herself she made no objection, but surprisedher mistress by asking permission to live by herself in the "cottageby the mine, " as it was called. 

"It is better for me to be alone, " said she, "for I may do somethingterrible if I stay here, something I would sooner die than do, " andher eyes fell upon Maggie sleeping in her cradle. 

This satisfied Madam Conway that the half-crazed woman meditated harmto her favorite grandchild, and she consented readily to herremoval to the cottage, which by her orders was made comparativelycomfortable. For several weeks, when she came, as she did each day, tothe house, Madam Conway kept Maggie carefully from her sight, until atlast she begged so hard to see her that her wish was gratified; andas she manifested no disposition whatever to molest the child, MadamConway's fears gradually subsided, and Hagar was permitted to fondleand caress her as often as she chose. 

Here now, for a time, we leave them; Hagar in her cottage by the mine;Madam Conway in her gloomy home; Maggie in her nurse's arms; and Theo, of whom as yet but little has been said, playing on the nursery floor;while with our readers we pass silently over a period of time whichshall bring us to Maggie's girlhood. 

CHAPTER IV. 

GIRLHOOD. 

Fifteen years have passed away, and around the old stone house thereis outwardly no change. The moss still clings to the damp, dark wall, just as it clung there long ago, while the swaying branches of theforest trees still cast their shadows across the floor, or scream tothe autumn blast, just as they did in years gone by, when Hagar Warrenbreathed that prayer, "Lead us not into temptation. " Madam Conway, stiff and straight and cold as ever, moves with the same measuredtread through her gloomy rooms, which are not as noiseless now as theywere wont to be, for girlhood--joyous, merry girlhood--has a home inthose dark rooms, and their silence is broken by the sound of otherfeet, not moving stealthily and slow, as if following in a funeraltrain, but dancing down the stairs, tripping through the halls, skipping across the floor, and bounding over the grass, they go, nevertiring, never ceasing, till the birds and the sun have gone to rest. 

And do what she may, the good lady cannot check the gleeful mirth, orhush the clear ringing laughter of one at least of the fair maidens, who, since last we looked upon them, have grown up to womanhood. Wondrously beautiful is Maggie Miller now, with her bright sunny face, her soft dark eyes and raven hair, so glossy and smooth that hersister, the pale-faced, blue-eyed Theo, likens it to a piece ofshining satin. Now, as ever, the pet and darling of the household, shemoves among them like a ray of sunshine; and the servants, when theyhear her bird-like voice waking the echoes of the weird old place, pause in their work to listen, blessing Miss Margaret for the joy andgladness her presence has brought them. 

Old Hagar, in her cottage by the mine, has kept her secret well, whispering it only to the rushing wind and the running brook, whichhave told no tales to the gay, light-hearted girl, save to murmurin her ear that a life untrammeled by etiquette and form would be ablissful life indeed. And Maggie, listening to the voices which speakto her so oft in the autumn wind, the running brook, the openingflower, and the falling leaf, has learned a lesson different far fromthose taught her daily by the prim, stiff governess, who, importedfrom England six years ago, has drilled both Theo and Maggie in allthe prescribed rules of high life as practiced in the Old World. Shehas taught them how to sit and how to stand, how to eat and how todrink, as becomes young ladies of Conway blood and birth. And MadamConway, through her golden spectacles, looks each day to see some goodfrom all this teaching come to the bold, dashing, untamable Maggie, who, spurning birth and blood alike, laughs at form and etiquette astaught by Mrs. Jeffrey, and, winding her arms around her grandmother'sneck, crumples her rich lace ruffle with a most unladylike hug, andthen bounds away to the stables, pretending not to hear the distressedMrs. Jeffrey calling after her not to run, "it is so Yankeefied andvulgar"; or if she did hear, answering back, "I am a Yankee, nativeborn, and shall run for all Johnny Bull!"

Greatly horrified at this evidence of total depravity, Mrs. Jeffreybrushes down her black silk apron and goes back to Theo, her moretractable pupil; while Maggie, emerging ere long from the stable, clears the fence with one leap of her high-mettled pony, which John, the coachman, had bought at an enormous price, of a traveling circus, on purpose for his young mistress, who complained that grandma'shorses were all too lazy and aristocratic in their movements for her. 

In perfect amazement Madam Conway looked out when first Gritty, as thepony was called, was led up to the door, prancing, pawing, chafing atthe bit, and impatient to be off. "Margaret shall never mount thatanimal, " she said; but Margaret had ruled for sixteen years, and now, at a sign from John, she sprang gayly upon the back of the fierysteed, who, feeling instinctively that the rider he carried was astranger to fear, became under her training perfectly gentle, obeyingher slightest command, and following her ere long like a sagaciousdog. Not thus easily could Madam Conway manage Maggie, and with agroan she saw her each day fly over the garden gate and out into thewoods, which she scoured in all directions. 

"She'll break her neck, I know, " the disturbed old lady would say, asMaggie's flowing skirt and waving plumes disappeared in the shadow ofthe trees. "She'll break her neck some day;" and thinking someone mustbe in fault, her eyes would turn reprovingly upon Mrs. Jeffrey forhaving failed in subduing Maggie, whom the old governess pronouncedthe "veriest madcap" in the world. "There is nothing like her in allEngland, " she said; "and her low-bred ways must be the result of herhaving been born on American soil. "

If Maggie was to be censured, Madam Conway chose to do it herself; andon such occasions she would answer: "'Low-bred, ' Mrs. Jeffrey, is nota proper term to apply to Margaret. She's a little wild, I admit, butno one with my blood in their veins can be low-bred;" and, in herindignation at the governess, Madam would usually forget to reproveher granddaughter when she came back from her ride, her cheeks flushedand her eyes shining like stars with the healthful exercise. Throwingherself upon a stool at her grandmother's feet, Maggie would lay herhead upon the lap of the proud lady, who very lovingly would smooththe soft, shining hair, "so much like her own, " she said. 

"Before you had to color it, you mean, don't you, grandma?" themischievous Maggie would rejoin, looking up archly to her grandmother, who would call her a saucy child, and stroke still more fondly thesilken locks. 

Wholly unlike Maggie was Theo, a pale-faced, fair-haired girl, who wascalled pretty, when not overshadowed by the queenly presence of hermore gifted sister. And Theo was very proud of this sister, too; proudof the beautiful Maggie, to whom, though two years her junior, shelooked for counsel, willing always to abide by her judgment; for whatMaggie did must of course be right, and grandma would not scold. So ifat any time Theo was led into error, Maggie stood ready to bear theblame, which was never very severe, for Mrs. Jeffrey had learnednot to censure her too much, lest by so doing she should incur thedispleasure of her employer, who in turn loved Maggie, if it werepossible, better than the daughter whose name she bore, and whomMaggie called her mother. Well kept and beautiful was the spot wherethat mother lay, and the grave was marked by a costly marble whichgleamed clear and white through the surrounding evergreens. This wasMaggie's favorite resort, and here she often sat in the moonlight, musing of one who slept there, and who, they said, had held her on herbosom when she died. 

At no great distance from this spot was another grave, where the grassgrew tall and green, and where the headstone, half sunken in theearth, betokened that she who rested there was of humble origin. HereMaggie seldom tarried long. The place had no attraction for her, forrarely now was the name of Hester Hamilton heard at the old stonehouse, and all save one seemed to have forgotten that such as she hadever lived. This was Hagar Warren, who in her cottage by the mine hasgrown older and more crazy-like since last we saw her. Her hair, onceso much like that which Madam Conway likens to her own, has bleachedas white as snow, and her tall form is shriveled now, and bent. Thesecret is wearing her life away, and yet she does not regret what shehas done. She cannot, when she looks upon the beautiful girl who comeseach day to her lonely hut, and whom she worships with a species ofwild idolatry. Maggie knows not why it is, and yet to her there is apeculiar fascination about that strange old woman, with her snow-whitehair, her wrinkled face, her bony hand, and wild, dark eyes, which, when they rest on her, have in them a look of unutterable tenderness. 

Regularly each day, when the sun nears the western horizon, Maggiesteals away to the cottage, and the lonely woman, waiting for her onthe rude bench by the door, can tell her bounding footstep from allothers which pass that way. She does not say much now herself; but thesound of Maggie's voice, talking to her in the gathering twilight, isthe sweetest she has ever heard; and so she sits and listens, whileher hands work nervously together, and her whole body trembles with alonging, intense desire to clasp the young girl to her bosom and claimher as her own. But this she dare not do, for Madam Conway's traininghas had its effect, and in Maggie's bearing there is ever a degree ofpride which forbids anything like undue familiarity. And it was thisvery pride which Hagar liked to see, whispering often to herself, "Warren blood and Conway airs--the two go well together. "

Sometimes a word or a look would make her start, they reminded her soforcibly of the dead; and once she said involuntarily: "You are likeyour mother, Maggie. Exactly what she was at your age. "

"My mother!" answered Maggie. "You never talked to me of her; tell meof her now. I did not suppose I was like her in anything. "

"Yes, in everything, " said old Hagar; "the same dark eyes and hair, the same bright red cheeks, the same--"

"Why, Hagar, what can you mean?" interrupted Maggie. "My mother hadlight blue eyes and fair brown hair, like Theo. Grandma says I amnot like her at all, while old Hannah, the cook, when she feelsill-natured and wishes to tease me, says I am the very image of HesterHamilton. "

"And what if you are? What if you are?" eagerly rejoined old Hagar. "Would you feel badly to know you looked like Hester?" and the oldwoman bent anxiously forward to hear the answer: "Not for myself, perhaps, provided Hester was handsome, for I think a good deal ofbeauty, that's a fact; but it would annoy grandma terribly to have melook like a servant. She might fancy I was Hester's daughter, for shewonders every day where I get my low-bred ways, as she calls my likingto sing and laugh and be natural. "

"And s'posin' Hester was your mother, would you care?" persistedHagar. 

"Of course I should, " answered Maggie, her large eyes opening wide atthe strange question. "I wouldn't for the whole world be anybodybut Maggie Miller, just who I am. To be sure, I get awfully out ofpatience with grandma and Mrs. Jeffrey for talking so much about birthand blood and family, and all that sort of nonsense, but after all Iwouldn't for anything be poor and work as poor folks do. "

"I'll never tell her, never, " muttered Hagar; and Maggie continued:"What a queer habit you have of talking to yourself. Did you always doso?"

"Not always. It came upon me with the secret, " Hagar answeredinadvertently; and eagerly catching at the last word, which to herimplied a world of romance and mystery, Maggie exclaimed: "The secret, Hagar, the secret! If there's anything I delight in it's a secret!"and, sliding down from the rude bench to the grass-plat at Hagar'sfeet, she continued: "Tell it to me, Hagar, that's a dear old woman. I'll never tell anybody as long as I live. I won't, upon my word, "she continued, as she saw the look of horror resting on Hagar's face;"I'll help you keep it, and we'll have such grand times talking itover. Did it concern yourself?" and Maggie folded her arms upon thelap of the old woman, who answered in a voice so hoarse and unnaturalthat Maggie involuntarily shuddered, "Old Hagar would die inch by inchsooner than tell you, Maggie Miller, her secret. "

"Was it, then, so dreadful?" asked Maggie half fearfully, and castinga stealthy glance at the dim woods, where the night shadows werefalling, and whose winding path she must traverse alone on herhomeward route. "Was it, then, so dreadful?"

"Yes, dreadful, dreadful; and yet, Maggie, I have sometimes wishedyou knew it. You would forgive me, perhaps. If you knew how I wastempted, " said Hagar, and her voice was full of yearning tenderness, while her bony fingers parted lovingly the shining hair from off thewhite brow of the young girl, who pleaded again, "Tell it to me, Hagar. "

There was a fierce struggle in Hagar's bosom, but the night wind, moving through the hemlock boughs, seemed to say, "Not yet--not yet";and, remembering her vow, she answered: "Leave me, Maggie Miller, Icannot tell you the secret. You of all others. You would hate me forit, and that I could not bear. Leave me alone, or the sight of you, sobeautiful, pleading for my secret, will kill me dead. "

There was command in the tones of her voice, and rising to her feetMaggie walked away, with a dread feeling at her heart, a feeling whichwhispered vaguely to her of a deed of blood--for what save thiscould thus affect old Hagar? Her road home led near the littleburying-ground, and impelled by something she could not resist shepaused at her mother's grave. The moonlight was falling softly uponit; and, seating herself within the shadow of the monument, she sata long time thinking, not of the dead, but of Hagar and the strangewords she had uttered. Suddenly, from the opposite side of thegraveyard, there came a sound as of someone walking; and, lookingup, Maggie saw approaching her the bent figure of the old woman, whoseemed unusually excited. Her first impulse was to fly, but knowinghow improbable it was that Hagar should seek to do her harm, andthinking she might discover some clew to the mystery if she remained, she sat still, while, kneeling on Hester's grave, old Hagar weptbitterly, talking the while, but so incoherently that Maggie coulddistinguish nothing save the words, "You, Hester, have forgiven me. "

"Can it be that she has killed her own child!" thought Maggie, andstarting to her feet she stood face to face with Hagar, who screamed:"You here, Maggie Miller!--here with the others who know my secret!But you shan't wring it from me. You shall never know it, unless thedead rise up to tell you. "

"Hagar Warren, " said Margaret sternly, "is murder your secret? DidHester Hamilton die at her mother's hands?"

With a short gasping moan, Hagar staggered backward a pace or two, andthen, standing far more erect than Margaret had ever seen her before, she answered: "No, Maggie Miller, no; murder is not my secret. Thesehands, " and she tossed in the air her shriveled arms, "these hands areas free from blood as yours. And now go. Leave me alone with my dead, and see that you tell no tales. You like secrets, you say. Let whatyou have heard to-night be _your_ secret. Go. "

Maggie obeyed, and walked slowly homeward, feeling greatly relievedthat her suspicion was false, and experiencing a degree ofsatisfaction in thinking that she too had a secret, which she wouldguard most carefully from her grandmother and Theo. "She would nevertell them what she had seen and heard--never!"

Seated upon the piazza were Madam Conway and Theo, the former of whomchided her for staying so late at the cottage, while Theo asked whatqueer things the old witch-woman had said to-night. 

With a very expressive look, which seemed to say, "I know, but Ishan't tell, " Maggie seated herself at her grandmother's feet, andasked how long Hagar had been crazy. "Did it come upon her when herdaughter died?" she inquired; and Madam Conway answered: "Yes, aboutthat time, or more particularly when the baby died. Then she began toact so strangely that I removed you from her care, for, from somethingshe said, I fancied she meditated harm to you. "

For a moment Maggie sat wrapped in thought--then clapping her handstogether she exclaimed: "I have it; I know now what ails her! She feltso badly to see you happy with me that she tried to poison me. Shesaid she was sorely tempted--and that's the secret which is killingher. "

"Secret! What secret?" cried Theo; and, womanlike, forgetting herresolution not to tell, Maggie told what she had seen and heard, adding it as her firm belief that Hagar had made an attempt upon herlife. 

"I would advise you for the future to keep away from her, then, " saidMadam Conway, to whom the suggestion seemed a very probable one. 

But Maggie knew full well that whatever Hagar might once have thoughtto do, there was no danger to be apprehended from her now, and thenext day found her as usual on her way to the cottage. Bounding intothe room where the old woman sat at her knitting, she exclaimed: "Iknow what it is! I know your secret!"

There was a gathering mist before Hagar's eyes, and her face wasdeathly white, as she gasped: "You know the secret! How? Where? Havethe dead come back to tell? Did anybody see me do it?"

"Why, no, " answered Maggie, beginning to grow a little mystified. "Thedead have nothing to do with it. You tried to poison me when I was ababy, and that's what makes you crazy. Isn't it so? Grandma thought itwas, when I told her how you talked last night. "

There was a heavy load lifted from Hagar's heart, and she answeredcalmly, but somewhat indignantly, "So you told--I thought I couldtrust you, Maggie. "

Instantly the tears came to Maggie's eyes, and, coloring crimson, shesaid: "I didn't mean to tell--indeed I didn't, but I forgot all aboutyour charge. Forgive me, Hagar, do, " and, sinking on the floor, she looked up in Hagar's face so pleadingly that the old woman wassoftened, and answered gently: "You are like the rest of your sex, Margaret. No woman but Hagar Warren ever kept a secret; and it'skilling her, you see!"

"Don't keep it, then, " said Maggie. "Tell it to me. Confess that youtried to poison me because you envied grandma, " and the soft eyeslooked with an anxious, expectant expression into the dark, wild orbsof Hagar, who replied: "Envy was at the bottom of it all, but I nevertried to harm you, Margaret, in any way. I only thought to do yougood. You have not guessed it. You cannot, and you must not try. "

"Tell it to me, then. I want to know it so badly, " persisted Maggie, her curiosity each moment increasing. 

"Maggie Miller, " said old Hagar, and the knitting dropped from herfingers, which moved slowly on till they reached and touched thelittle snowflake of a hand resting on her knee--"Maggie Miller, ifyou knew that the telling of that secret would make you perfectlywretched, would you wish to hear it?"

For a moment Maggie was silent, and then, half laughingly, shereplied: "I'd risk it, Hagar, for I never wanted to know anything halfso bad in all my life. Tell it to me, won't you?"

Very beautiful looked Maggie Miller then--her straw flat set jauntilyon one side of her head, her glossy hair combed smoothly back, hersoft lustrous eyes shining with eager curiosity, and her cheeksflushed with excitement. Very, very beautiful she seemed to the oldwoman, who, in her intense longing to take the bright creature to herbosom, was, for an instant, sorely tempted. 

"Margaret!" she began, and at the sound of her voice the young girlshuddered involuntarily. "Margaret!" she said again; but ere anotherword was uttered the autumn wind, which for the last half-hour hadbeen rising rapidly, came roaring down the wide-mouthed chimney, andthe heavy fireboard fell upon the floor with a tremendous crash, nearly crushing old Hagar's foot, and driving for a time all thoughtsof the secret from Maggie's mind. "Served me right, " muttered Hagar, as Maggie left the room for water with which to bathe the swollenfoot. "Served me right; and if ever I'm tempted to tell her again mayevery bone in my body be smashed!"

The foot was carefully cared for, Maggie's own hands tenderlybandaging it up; and then with redoubled zeal she returned tothe attack, pressing old Hagar so hard that the large drops ofperspiration gathered thickly about her forehead and lips, which werewhite as ashes. Wearied at last, Maggie gave it up for the time being, but her curiosity was thoroughly aroused, and for many days shepersisted in her importunity, until at last, in self-defense, oldHagar, when she saw her coming, would steal away to the low-roofedchamber, and, hiding behind a pile of rubbish, would listenbreathlessly while Margaret hunted for her in vain. Then when she wasgone she would crawl out from her hiding-place, covered with cobwebsand dust, and mutter to herself: "I never expected this, and it's morethan I can bear. Why will she torment me so, when a knowledge of thesecret would drive her mad!"

This, however, Maggie Miller did not know. Blessed with an uncommondegree of curiosity, which increased each time she saw old Hagar, sheresolved to solve the mystery, which she felt sure was connected withherself, though in what manner she could not guess. "But I _will_know, " she would say to herself when returning from a fruitlessquizzing of old Hagar, whose hiding-place she had at last discovered;"I _will_ know what 'tis about me. I shall never be quite happy till Ido. "

Ah, Maggie, Maggie, be happy while you can, and leave the secretalone! It will come to you soon enough--aye, soon enough!

CHAPTER V. 

TRIFLES. 

Very rapidly the winter passed away, and one morning early in MarchMaggie went down to the cottage with the news that Madam Conway wasintending to start immediately for England, where she had businesswhich would probably detain her until fall. 

"Oh, won't I have fun in her absence!" she cried. "I'll visit everyfamily in the neighborhood. Here she's kept Theo and me caged up liketwo wild animals, and now I am going to see a little of the world. Idon't mean to study a bit, and instead of visiting you once a day Ishall come at least three times. "

"Lord help me!" ejaculated old Hagar, who, much as she loved Maggie, was beginning to dread her daily visits. 

"Why do you want help?" asked Maggie laughingly. "Are you tired of me, Hagar? Don't you like me any more?"

"Like you, Maggie Miller!--like you!" repeated old Hagar, and in thetones of her voice there was a world of tenderness and love. "Thereis nothing on earth I love as I do you. But you worry me to deathsometimes. "

"Oh, yes, I know, " answered Maggie; "but I'm not going to tease youfor a while. I shall have so much else to do when grandma is gone thatI shall forget it. I wish she wasn't so proud, " she continued, after amoment. "I wish she'd let Theo and me see a little more of the worldthan she does. I wonder how she ever expects us to get married, or beanybody, if she keeps us here in the woods like young savages. Why, astrue as you live, Hagar, I have never been anywhere in my life, exceptto church Sundays, once to Douglas' store in Worcester, once to PattyThompson's funeral, and once to a Methodist camp-meeting; and I neverspoke to more than a dozen men besides the minister and the schoolboys! It's too bad!" and Maggie pouted quite becomingly at theinjustice done her by her grandmother in keeping her thus secluded. "Theo don't care, " she said. "She is prouder than I am, and does notwish to know the Yankees, as grandma calls the folks in this country;but I'm glad I am a Yankee. I wouldn't live in England for anything. "

"Why don't your grandmother take you with her?" asked Hagar, who in ameasure sympathized with Maggie for being thus isolated. 

"She says we are too young to go into society, " answered Maggie. "Itwill be time enough two years hence, when I am eighteen and Theotwenty. Then I believe she intends taking us to London, where we canshow off our accomplishments, and practice that wonderful courtesywhich Mrs. Jeffrey has taught us. I dare say the queen will beastonished at our qualifications;" and with a merry laugh, as shethought of the appearance she should make at the Court of St. James, Maggie leaped on Gritty's back and bounded away, while Hagar lookedwistfully after her, saying as she wiped the tears from her eyes:"Heaven bless the girl! She might sit on the throne of England anyday, and Victoria wouldn't disgrace herself at all by doing herreverence, even if she be a child of Hagar Warren. "

As Maggie had said, Madam Conway was going to England. At first shethought of taking the young ladies with her, but, thinking they werehardly old enough yet to be emancipated from the schoolroom, shedecided to leave them under the supervision of Mrs. Jeffrey, whoseniece she promised to bring with her on her return to America. Uponher departure she bade Theo and Maggie a most affectionate adieu, adding:

"Be good girls while I am away, keep in the house, mind Mrs. Jeffrey, and don't fall in love. "

This last injunction came involuntarily from the old lady, to whomthe idea of their falling in love was quite as preposterous as tothemselves. 

"Fall in love!" repeated Maggie, when her tears were dried, and shewith Theo was driving slowly home. "What could grandma mean! I wonderwho there is for us to love, unless it be John the coachman, or Billthe gardener. I almost wish we could get in love though, just to seehow 'twould seem, don't you?" she continued. 

"Not with anybody here, " answered Theo, her nose slightly elevated atthe thought of people whom she had been educated to despise. 

"Why not here as well as elsewhere?" asked Maggie. "I don't see anydifference. But grandma needn't be troubled, for such things as men'sboots never come near our house. It's a shame, though, " she continued, "that we don't know anybody, either male or female. Let's go down toWorcester some day, and get acquainted. Don't you remember the twohandsome young men whom we saw five years ago in Douglas' store, andhow they winked at each other when grandma ran down their goods andsaid there were not any darning needles fit to use this side of thewater?"

On most subjects Theo's memory was treacherous, but she rememberedperfectly well the two young men, particularly the taller one, who hadgiven her a remnant of blue ribbon which he said was just the colorof her eyes. Still, the idea of going to Worcester did not strike herfavorably. "She wished Worcester would come to them, " she said, "butshe should not dare to go there. They would surely get lost. Grandmawould not like it, and Mrs. Jeffrey would not let them go, even ifthey wished. "

"A fig for Mrs. Jeffrey, " said Maggie. "I shan't mind her much. I'mgoing to have a real good time, doing as I please, and if you are wiseyou'll have one too. "

"I suppose I shall do what you tell me to--I always do, " answered Theosubmissively, and there the conversation ceased. 

Arrived at home they found dinner awaiting them, and Maggie, whenseated, suggested to Mrs. Jeffrey that she should give them a vacationof a few weeks, just long enough for them to get rested and visit theneighbors. But this Mrs. Jeffrey refused to do. 

She had her orders to keep them at their books, she said, and "studywas healthful"; at the same time she bade them be in the schoolroom onthe morrow. There was a wicked look in Maggie's eyes, but her tonguetold no tales, and when next morning she went with Theo demurely tothe schoolroom she seemed surprised at hearing from Mrs. Jeffrey thatevery book had disappeared from the desk where they were usually kept;and though the greatly disturbed and astonished lady had sought forthem nearly an hour, they were not to be found. 

"Maggie has hidden them, I know, " said Theo, as she saw themischievous look on her sister's face. 

"Margaret wouldn't do such a thing, I'm sure, " answered Mrs. Jeffrey, her voice and manner indicating a little doubt, however, as to thetruth of her assertion. 

But Maggie had hidden them, and no amount of coaxing could persuadeher to bring them back. "You refused me a vacation when I asked forit, " she said, "so I'm going to have it perforce;" and, playfullycatching up the little dumpy figure of her governess, she carried herout upon the piazza, and, seating her in a large easy-chair, bade hertake snuff, and comfort too, as long as she liked. 

Mrs. Jeffrey knew perfectly well that Maggie in reality was mistressof the house, that whatever she did Madam Conway would ultimatelysanction; and as a rest was by no means disagreeable, she yieldedwith a good grace, dividing her time between sleeping, snuffing, anddressing, while Theo lounged upon the sofa and devoured some musty oldnovels which Maggie, in her rummaging, had discovered. 

Meanwhile Maggie kept her promise of visiting the neighbors, andalmost every family had something to say in praise of the merry, light-hearted girl of whom they had heretofore known but little. Herfavorite recreation, however, was riding on horseback, and almostevery day she galloped through the woods and over the fields, usuallyterminating her ride with a call upon old Hagar, whom she stillcontinued to tease unmercifully for the secret, and who was glad whenat last an incident occurred which for a time drove all thoughts ofthe secret from Maggie's mind. 

CHAPTER VI. 

THE JUNIOR PARTNER. 

One afternoon towards the middle of April, when Maggie as usual wasflying through the woods, she paused for a moment beneath the shadowof a sycamore while Gritty drank from a small running brook. The ponyhaving quenched his thirst, she gathered up her reins for a freshgallop, when her ear caught the sound of another horse's hoofs; and, looking back, she saw approaching her at a rapid rate a gentleman whomshe knew to be a stranger. Not caring to be overtaken, she chirrupedto the spirited Gritty, who, bounding over the velvety turf, left theunknown rider far in the rear. 

"Who can she be?" thought the young man, admiring the utterfearlessness with which she rode; then, feeling a little piqued, as hesaw how the distance between them was increasing, he exclaimed, "Beshe woman, or be she witch, I'll overtake her"; and, whistling to hisown fleet animal, he too dashed on at a furious rate. 

"Trying to catch me, are you?" thought Maggie. "I'd laugh to see youdo it. " And entering at once into the spirit of the race, she rodeon for a time with headlong speed--then, by way of tantalizing herpursuer, she paused for a moment until he had almost reached her, whenat a peculiar whistle Gritty sprang forward, while Maggie's mockinglaugh was borne back to the discomfited young man, whose interest inthe daring girl increased each moment. It was a long, long chase sheled him, over hills, across plains, and through the grassy valley, until she stopped at last within a hundred yards of the deep, narrowgorge through which the mill-stream ran. 

"I have you now, " thought the stranger, who knew by the dull, roaringsound of the water that a chasm lay between him and the opposite bank. 

But Maggie had not yet half displayed her daring feats ofhorsemanship, and when he came so near that his waving brown locks andhandsome dark eyes were plainly discernible, she said to herself: "Herides tolerably well. I'll see how good he is at a leap, " and, settingherself more firmly in the saddle, she patted Gritty upon the neck. The well-trained animal understood the signal, and, rearing high inthe air, was fast nearing the bank, when the young man, suspecting herdesign, shrieked out: "Stop, lady, stop! It's madness to attempt it. "

"Follow me if you can, " was Maggie's defiant answer, and the nextmoment she hung in mid-air over the dark abyss. 

Involuntarily the young man closed his eyes, while his ear listenedanxiously for the cry which would come next. But Maggie knew full wellwhat she was doing. She had leaped that narrow gorge often, and nowwhen the stranger's eyes unclosed she stood upon the opposite bank, caressing the noble animal which had borne her safely there. 

"It shall never be said that Henry Warner was beaten by a schoolgirl, "muttered the stranger. "If she can clear that, I can, bad rider as Iam!" and burying his spurs deep in the sides of his horse, he pressedon while Maggie held her breath in fear, for she knew that withoutpractice no one could do what she had done. 

There was a partially downward plunge--a fierce struggle on theshelving bank, where the animal had struck a few feet from thetop--then the steed stood panting on terra firma, while a piercingshriek broke the deep silence of the wood, and Maggie's cheeksblanched to a marble hue. The rider, either from dizziness or fear, had fallen at the moment the horse first struck the bank, and from theravine below there came no sound to tell if yet he lived. 

"He's dead; he's dead!" cried Maggie. "'Twas my own foolishness whichkilled him, " and springing from Gritty's back she gathered up her longriding skirt and glided swiftly down the bank, until she came to awide, projecting rock, where the stranger lay, motionless and still, his white face upturned to the sunlight, which came stealing downthrough the overhanging boughs. In an instant she was at his side, andhis head was resting on her lap, while her trembling fingers partedback from his pale brow the damp mass of curling hair. 

"The fall alone would not kill him, " she said, as her eye measured thedistance, and then she looked anxiously round for water with which tobathe his face. 

But water there was none, save in the stream below, whose murmuringflow fell mockingly on her ears, for it seemed to say she could notreach it. But Maggie Miller was equal to any emergency, and venturingout to the very edge of the rock she poised herself on one foot, andlooked down the dizzy height to see if it were possible to descend. 

"I can try at least, " she said, and glancing at the pale face of thestranger unhesitatingly resolved to attempt it. 

The descent was less difficult than she had anticipated, and in anincredibly short space of time she was dipping her pretty velvet capin the brook, whose sparkling foam had never before been disturbed bythe touch of a hand as soft and fair as hers. To ascend was not soeasy a matter; but, chamois-like, Maggie's feet trod safely thedangerous path, and she soon knelt by the unconscious man, bathing hisforehead in the clear cold water, until he showed signs of returninglife. His lips moved slowly at last, as if he would speak; and Maggie, bending low to catch the faintest sound, heard him utter the name of"Rose. " In Maggie's bosom there was no feeling for the stranger savethat of pity, and yet that one word "Rose" thrilled her with a strangeundefinable emotion, awaking at once a yearning desire to knowsomething of her who bore that beautiful name, and who to the youngman was undoubtedly the one in all the world most dear. 

"Rose, " he said again, "is it you?" and his eyes, which opened slowly, scanned with an eager, questioning look the face of Maggie, who, open-hearted and impulsive as usual, answered somewhat sadly: "I amnobody but Maggie Miller. I am not Rose, though I wish I was, if youwould like to see her. "

The tones of her voice recalled the stranger's wandering mind, and heanswered: "Your voice is like Rose, but I would rather see you, MaggieMiller. I like your fearlessness, so unlike most of your sex. Rose isfar more gentle, more feminine than you, and if her very life dependedupon it she would never dare leap that gorge. "

The young man intended no reproof; but Maggie took his words as such, and for the first time in her life began to think that possibly hermanner was not always as womanly as might be. At all events, she wasnot like the gentle Rose, whom she instantly invested with everypossible grace and beauty, wishing that she herself was like herinstead of the wild madcap she was. Then, thinking that her conductrequired some apology, she answered, as none save one as fresh andingenuous as Maggie Miller would have answered: "I don't know anybetter than to behave as I do. I've always lived in the woods--havenever been to school a day in my life--never been anywhere except tocamp-meeting, and once to Douglas' store in Worcester!"

This was entirely a new phase of character to the man of the world, who laughed aloud, and at the mention of Douglas' store started soquickly that a spasm of pain distorted his features, causing Maggie toask if he were badly hurt. 

"Nothing but a broken leg, " he answered; and Maggie, to whose mindbroken bones conveyed a world of pain and suffering, replied: "Oh, Iam so sorry for you! and it's my fault, too. Will you forgive me?" andher hands clasped his so pleadingly that, raising himself upon hiselbow so as to obtain a better view of her bright face, he answered, "I'd willingly break a hundred bones for the sake of meeting a girllike you, Maggie Miller. "

Maggie was unused to flattery, save as it came from her grandmother, Theo, or old Hagar, and now paying no heed to his remark she said:"Can you stay here alone while I go for help? Our house is not faraway. "

"I'd rather you would remain with me, " he replied; "but as you cannotdo both, I suppose you must go. "

"I shan't be gone long, and I'll send old Hagar to keep you company. "So saying, Maggie climbed the bank, and, mounting Gritty, who stoodquietly awaiting her, seized the other horse by the bridle and rodeswiftly away, leaving the young man to meditate upon the novelsituation in which he had so suddenly been placed. 

"Aint I in a pretty predicament!" said he, as he tried in vain to movehis swollen limb, which was broken in two places, but which beingpartially benumbed did not now pain him much. "But it serves me rightfor chasing a harum-scarum thing when I ought to have been minding myown business and collecting bills for Douglas & Co. And she says she'sbeen there, too. I wonder who she is, the handsome sprite. I believe Imade her more than half jealous talking of my golden-haired Rose; butshe is far more beautiful than Rose, more beautiful than anyone I eversaw. I wish she'd come back again, " and, shutting his eyes, he triedto recall the bright, animated face which had so lately bent anxiouslyabove him. "She tarries long, " he said at last, beginning to growuneasy. "I wonder how far it is; and where the deuce can this oldHagar be, of whom she spoke?"

"She's here, " answered a shrill voice, and looking up he saw beforehim the bent form of Hagar Warren, at whose door Maggie had paused fora moment while she told of the accident and begged of Hagar to hasten. 

Accordingly, equipped with a blanket and pillow, a brandy bottle andcamphor, old Hagar had come, but when she offered the latter for theyoung man's acceptance he pushed it from him, saying that camphor washis detestation, but he shouldn't object particularly to smelling ofthe other bottle!

"No, you don't, " said Hagar, who thought him in not quite sodeplorable a condition as she had expected to find him. "My creed isnever to give young folks brandy except in cases of emergency. " Sosaying, she made him more comfortable by placing a pillow beneath hishead; and then, thinking possibly that this to herself was a "case ofemergency, " she withdrew to a little distance, and sitting down uponthe gnarled roots of an upturned tree drank a swallow of the oldCognac, while the young man, maimed and disabled, looked wistfully ather. 

Not that he cared for the brandy, of which he seldom tasted; but heneeded something to relieve the deathlike faintness which occasionallycame over him, and which old Hagar, looking only at his mischievouseyes, failed to observe. Only those who knew Henry Warner intimatelygave him credit for many admirable qualities he really possessed--sofull was he of fun. It was in his merry eyes and about his quizzicallyshaped mouth that the principal difficulty lay; and most persons, seeing him for the first time, fancied that in some way he was makingsport of them. This was old Hagar's impression, as she sat there indignified silence, rather enjoying, than otherwise, the occasionalgroans which came from his white lips. There were intervals, however, when he was comparatively free from pain, and these he improved byquestioning her with regard to Maggie, asking who she was and whereshe lived. 

"She is Maggie Miller, and she lives in a house, " answered the oldwoman rather pettishly. 

"Ah, indeed--snappish, are you?" said the young man, attempting toturn himself a little, the better to see his companion. "Confound thatleg!" he continued, as a fierce twinge gave him warning not to trymany experiments. "I know her name is Maggie Miller, and I supposedshe lived in a house; but who is she, anyway, and what is she?"

"If you mean is she anybody, I can answer that question quick, "returned Hagar. "She calls Madam Conway her grandmother, and MadamConway came from one of the best families in England--that's who sheis; and as to what she is, she's the finest, handsomest, smartest girlin America; and as long as old Hagar Warren lives no city chap withstrapped-down pantaloons and sneering mouth is going to fool with hereither!"

"Confound my mouth--it's always getting me into trouble!" thought thestranger, trying in vain to smooth down the corners of the offendingorgan, which in spite of him would curve with what Hagar called asneer, and from which there finally broke a merry laugh, sadly atvariance with the suffering expression of his face. 

"Your leg must hurt you mightily, the way you go on, " muttered Hagar;and the young man answered: "It does almost murder me, but when alaugh is in a fellow he can't help letting it out, can he? But wherethe plague can that witch of a--I beg your pardon, Mrs. Hagar, " headded hastily, as he saw the frown settling on the old woman's face, "I mean to say where can Miss Miller be? I shall faint away unless shecomes soon, or you give me a taste of the brandy!"

This time there was something in the tone of his voice which promptedHagar to draw near, and she was about to offer him the brandy whenMaggie appeared, together with three men bearing a litter. The sightof her produced a much better effect upon him than Hagar's brandywould have done, and motioning the old woman aside he declared himselfready to be removed. 

"Now, John, do pray be careful and not hurt him much!" cried Maggie, as she saw how pale and faint he was, while even Hagar forgot thecurled lip, which the young man bit until the blood started through, so intense was his agony when they lifted him upon the litter. "Thecamphor, Hagar, the camphor!" said Maggie; and the stranger did notpush it aside when her hand poured it on his head, but the laughingeyes, now dim with pain, smiled gratefully upon her, and the quiveringlips once murmured as she walked beside him, "Heaven bless you, MaggieMiller!"

Arrived at Hagar's cottage, the old woman suggested that he be carriedin there, saying as she met Maggie's questioning glance, "I can takecare of him better than anyone else. "

The pain by this time was intolerable, and scarcely knowing what hesaid the stranger whispered, "Yes, yes, leave me here. "

For a moment the bearers paused, while Maggie, bending over thewounded man, said softly: "Can't you bear it a little longer, untilour house is reached? You'll be more comfortable there. Grandma hasgone to England, and I'll take care of you myself!"

This last was perfectly in accordance with Maggie's frank, impulsivecharacter, and it had the desired effect. Henry Warner would haveborne almost death itself for the sake of being nursed by the younggirl beside him, and he signified his willingness to proceed, while atthe same time his hand involuntarily grasped that of Maggie, as if inthe touch of her snowy fingers there were a mesmeric power to soothehis pain. In the meantime a hurried consultation had been held betweenMrs. Jeffrey and Theo as to the room suitable for the stranger to beplaced in. 

"It's not likely he is much, " said Theo; "and if grandma were here Ipresume she would assign him the chamber over the kitchen. The wallis low on one side, I know, but I dare say he is not accustomed toanything better. "

Accordingly several articles of stray lumber were removed from thechamber, which the ladies arranged with care, and which when completedpresented quite a respectable appearance. But Maggie had no idea ofputting her guest, as she considered him, in the kitchen chamber; andwhen, as the party entered the house, Mrs. Jeffrey, from the head ofthe stairs, called out, "This way, Maggie; tell them to come thisway, " she waved her aside, and led the way to a large airy room overthe parlor, where, in a high, old-fashioned bed, surrounded on allsides by heavy damask curtains, they laid the weary stranger. Thevillage surgeon arriving soon after, the fractured bones were set, andthen, as perfect quiet seemed necessary, the room was vacated by allsave Maggie, who glided noiselessly around the apartment, while theeyes of the sick man followed her with eager, admiring glances, sobeautiful she looked to him in her new capacity of nurse. 

Henry Warner, as the stranger was called, was the junior partner ofthe firm of Douglas & Co. , Worcester, and his object in visiting theHillsdale neighborhood was to collect several bills which for a longtime had been due. He had left the cars at the depot, and, hiring alivery horse, was taking the shortest route from the east side of townto the west, when he came accidentally upon Maggie Miller, and, as wehave seen, brought his ride to a sudden close. All this he told to heron the morning following the accident, retaining until the last thename of the firm of which he was a member. 

"And you were once at our store?" he said. "How long ago?"

"Five years, " answered Maggie; "when I was eleven, and Theo thirteen;"then, looking earnestly at him, she exclaimed. "And you are the veryone, the clerk with the saucy eyes whom grandma disliked so muchbecause she thought he made fun of her; but we didn't think so--Theoand I, " she added hastily, as she saw the curious expression onHenry's mouth, and fancied he might be displeased. "We liked them bothvery much, and knew they must of course be annoyed with grandma'sEnglish whims. "

For a moment the saucy eyes studied intently the fair girlish face ofMaggie Miller, then slowly closed, while a train of thought somethinglike the following passed through the young man's mind: "A woman, andyet a perfect child--innocent and unsuspecting as little Rose herself. In one respect they are alike, knowing no evil and expecting none; andif I, Henry Warner, do aught by thought or deed to injure this younggirl may I never again look on the light of day or breathe the air ofheaven. "

The vow had passed his lips. Henry Warner never broke his word, andhenceforth Maggie Miller was as safe with him as if she had beenan only and well-beloved sister. Thinking him to be asleep, Maggiestarted to leave the room, but he called her back, saying, "Don't go;stay with me, won't you?"

"Certainly, " she answered, drawing a chair to the bedside. "I supposedyou were sleeping. "

"I was not, " he replied. "I was thinking of you and of Rose. Yourvoices are much alike. I thought of it yesterday when I lay upon therock. "

"Who is Rose?" trembled on Maggie's lips, while at the sound of thatname she was conscious of the same undefinable emotion she had oncebefore experienced. But the question was not asked. "If she werehis sister he would tell me, " she thought; "and if she is not hissister--"

She did not finish the sentence, neither did she understand that ifRose to him was something dearer than a sister, she, Maggie Miller, did not care to know it. 

"Is she beautiful as her name, this Rose?" she asked at last. 

"She is beautiful, but not so beautiful as you. There are few whoare, " answered Henry; and his eyes fixed themselves upon Maggie to seehow she would bear the compliment. 

But she scarcely heeded it, so intent was she upon knowing somethingmore of the mysterious Rose. "She is beautiful, you say. Will you tellme how she looks?" she continued; and Henry Warner answered, "She is afrail, delicate little creature, almost dwarfish in size, but perfectin form and feature. "

Involuntarily Maggie shrunk back in her chair, wishing her own queenlyform had been a very trifle shorter, while Mr. Warner continued, "Shehas a sweet, angel face, Maggie, with eyes of lustrous blue and curlsof golden hair. "

"You must love her very dearly, " said Maggie, the tone of her voiceindicating a partial dread of what the answer might be. 

"I do indeed love her, " was Mr. Warner's reply--"love her better thanall the world beside. And she has made me what I am; but for her Ishould have been a worthless, dissipated fellow. It's my naturaldisposition; but Rose has saved me, and I almost worship her for it. She is my good angel--my darling--my--"

Here he paused abruptly, and leaning back upon his pillows ratherenjoyed than otherwise the look of disappointment plainly visible onMaggie's face. She had fully expected to learn who Rose was; but thisknowledge he purposely kept from her. It did not need a very closeobserver of human nature to read at a glance the ingenuous Maggie, whose speaking face betrayed all she felt. She was unused to theworld. He was the first young gentleman whose acquaintance she hadever made, and he knew that she already felt for him a deeper interestthan she supposed. To increase this interest was his object, and thishe thought to do by withholding from her, for a time, a knowledge ofthe relation existing between him and the Rose of whom he had talkedso much. The ruse was successful, for during the remainder of the daythoughts of the golden-haired Rose were running through Maggie's mind, and it was late that night ere she could compose herself to sleep, soabsorbed was she in wondering what Rose was to Henry Warner. Not thatshe cared particularly, she tried to persuade herself; but she wouldvery much like to be at ease upon the subject. 

To Theo she had communicated the fact that their guest was a partnerof Douglas & Co. , and this tended greatly to raise the young man inthe estimation of a young lady like Theo Miller. Next to rank andstation, money was with her the one thing necessary to make a person"somebody. " Douglas, she had heard, was an immensely wealthy man;possibly the junior partner was wealthy, too; and if so, the parlorchamber to which she had at first objected was none too good for hisaristocratic bones. She would go herself and see him in the morning. 

Accordingly, on the morning of the second day she went with Maggie tothe sickroom, speaking to the stranger for the first time; but keepingstill at a respectable distance, until she should know somethingdefinite concerning him. 

"We have met before, it seems, " he said, after the first interchangeof civilities was over; "but I did not think our acquaintance would berenewed in this manner. "

No answer from Theo, who, like many others, had taken a dislike to hismouth, and felt puzzled to know whether he intended ridiculing her ornot. 

"I have a distinct recollection of your grandmother, " he continued, "and now I think of it I believe Douglas has once or twice mentionedthe elder of the two girls. That must be you?" and he looked at Theo, whose face brightened perceptibly. 

"Douglas, " she repeated. "He is the owner of the store; and the one Isaw, with black eyes and black hair, was only a clerk. "

"The veritable man himself!" cried Mr. Warner. "George Douglas, thesenior partner of the firm, said by some to be worth two hundredthousand dollars, and only twenty-eight years old, and the best fellowin the world, except that he pretends to dislike women. "

By this time Theo's proud blue eyes shone with delight, and when, after a little further conversation, Mr. Warner expressed a wish towrite to his partner, she brought her own rosewood writing desk forhim to use, and then, seating herself by the window, waited until theletter was written. 

"What shall I say for you, Miss Theo?" he asked, near the close; and, coloring slightly, she answered, "Invite him to come out and see you. "

"Oh, that will be grand!" cried Maggie, who was far more enthusiastic, though not more anxious, than her sister. 

Of her Henry Warner did not ask any message. He would not have writtenit had she sent one; and folding the letter, after adding Theo'sinvitation, he laid it aside. 

"I must write to Rose next, " he said; "'tis a whole week since I havewritten, and she has never been so long without hearing from me. "

Instantly there came a shadow over Maggie's face, while Theo, lessscrupulous, asked who Rose was. 

"A very dear friend of mine, " said Henry; and, as Mrs. Jeffrey justthen sent for Theo, Maggie was left with him alone. 

"Wait one moment, " she said, as she saw him about to commence theletter. "Wait till I bring you a sheet of gilt-edged paper. It is moreworthy of Rose, I fancy, than the plainer kind. "

"Thank you, " he said. "I will tell her of your suggestion. "

The paper was brought, and then seating herself by the window Maggielooked out abstractedly, seeing nothing, and hearing nothing save thesound of the pen, as it wrote down words of love for the gentle Rose. It was not a long epistle; and, as at the close of the Douglas letterhe had asked a message from Theo, so now at the close of this heclaimed one from Maggie. 

"What shall I say for you?" he asked; and, coming toward him, Margaretanswered, "Tell her I love her, though I don't know who she is!"

"Why have you never asked me?" queried Henry; and, coloring crimson, Maggie answered hesitatingly, "I thought you would tell me if youwished me to know. "

"Read this letter, and that will explain who she is, " the young mancontinued, offering the letter to Maggie, who, grasping it eagerly, sat down opposite, so that every motion of her face was clearlyvisible to him. 

The letter was as follows:

"MY DARLING LITTLE ROSE: Do you fancy some direful calamity hasbefallen me, because I have not written to you for more than a week?Away with your fears, then, for nothing worse has come upon me than abadly broken limb, which will probably keep me a prisoner here for twomonths or more. Now don't be frightened, Rosa. I am not crippled forlife, and even if I were I could love you just the same, while you, I'm sure, would love me more. 

"As you probably know, I left Worcester on Tuesday morning for thepurpose of collecting some bills in this neighborhood. Arrived atHillsdale I procured a horse, and was sauntering leisurely throughthe woods, when I came suddenly upon a flying witch in the shape of abeautiful young girl. She was the finest rider I ever saw; and such achase as she led me, until at last, to my dismay, she leaped across achasm down which a nervous little creature like you would be afraid tolook. Not wishing to be outdone, I followed her, and as a matter ofcourse broke my bones. 

"Were it not that the accident will somewhat incommode Douglas, andgreatly fidget you, I should not much regret it, for to me there is apeculiar charm about this old stone house and its quaint surroundings. But the greatest charm of all, perhaps, lies in my fair nurse, MaggieMiller, for whom I risked my neck. You two would be fast friends in amoment, and yet you are totally dissimilar, save that your voices aremuch alike. 

"Write to me soon, dear Rose, and believe me ever

"Your affectionate brother, "HENRY. "

"Oh!" said Maggie, catching her breath, which for a time had beenpartially suspended, "Oh!" and in that single monosyllable there wasto the young man watching her a world of meaning. "She's your sister, this little Rose, " and the soft dark eyes flashed brightly upon him. 

"What did you suppose her to be?" he asked, and Maggie answered, "Ithought she might be your wife, though I should rather have her for asister if I were you. "

The young man smiled involuntarily, thinking to himself how hisfashionable city friends would be shocked at such perfect frankness, which meant no more than their own studied airs. 

"You are a good girl, Maggie, " he said at last, "and I wouldn't forthe world deceive you; Rose is my step-sister. We are in no wayconnected save by marriage, still I love her all the same. We werebrought up together by a lady who is aunt to both, and Rose seems tome like an own dear sister. She has saved me from almost everything. Ionce loved the wine cup; but her kindly words and gentle influence wonme back, so that now I seldom taste it. And once I thought to run awayto sea, but Rose found it out, and, meeting me at the gate, persuadedme to return. It is wonderful, the influence she has over me, keepingmy wild spirits in check; and if I am ever anything I shall owe it allto her. "

"Does she live in Worcester?" asked Maggie; and Henry answered: "No;in Leominster, which is not far distant. I go home once a month; andI fancy I can see Rose now, just as she looks when she comes trippingdown the walk to meet me, her blue eyes shining like stars and hergolden curls blowing over her pale forehead. She is very, very frail;and sometimes when I look upon her the dread fear steals over me thatthere will come a time, ere long, when I shall have no sister. "

There were tears in Maggie's eyes, tears for the fair young girl whomshe had never seen, and she felt a yearning desire to look on thebeautiful face of her whom Henry called his sister. "I wish she wouldcome here; I want to see her, " she said at last; and Henry replied:"She does not go often from home. But I have her daguerreotype inWorcester. I'll write to Douglas to bring it, " and opening the letter, which was not yet sealed, he added a few lines. "Come, Maggie, " hesaid, when this was finished, "you need exercise. Suppose you rideover to the office with these letters?"

Maggie would rather have remained with him; but she expressed herwillingness to go, and in a few moments was seated on Gritty's backwith the two letters clasped firmly in her hand. At one of these, theone bearing the name of Rose Warner, she looked often and wistfully;it was a most beautiful name, she thought, and she who bore it wasbeautiful too. And then there arose within her a wish--shadowy andundefined to herself, it is true; but still a wish--that she, MaggieMiller, might one day call that gentle Rose her sister. "I shall seeher sometimes, anyway, " she thought, "and this George Douglas, too. Iwish they'd visit us together;" and having by this time reached thepost-office she deposited the letters and galloped rapidly towardhome. 

CHAPTER VII. 

THE SENIOR PARTNER. 

The establishment of Douglas & Co. Was closed for the night. Theclerks had gone each to his own home; old Safford, the poor relation, the man-of-all-work, who attended faithfully to everything, groaningoften and praying oftener over the careless habits of "the boys, " ashe called the two young men, his employers, had sought his comfortlessbachelor attic, where he slept always with one ear open, listening forany burglarious sound which might come from the store below, and whichhad it come to him listening thus would have frightened him halfto death. George Douglas, too, the senior partner of the firm, hadretired to his own room, which was far more elegantly furnished thanthat of the old man in the attic, and now in a velvet easy-chair hesat reading the letter from Hillsdale, which had arrived that evening, and a portion of which we subjoin for the reader's benefit. 

After giving an account of his accident, and the manner in which itoccurred, Warner continued:

"They say 'tis a mighty bad wind which blows no one any good, and so, though I verily believe I suffer all a man can suffer with a brokenbone, yet when I look at the fair face of Maggie Miller I feel thatI would not exchange this high old bed, to enter which needs a shortladder, even for a seat by you on that three-legged stool behind theold writing-desk. I never saw anything like her in my life. Everythingshe thinks, she says, and as to flattering her, it can't be done. I'vetold her a dozen times at least that she was beautiful, and she didn'tmind it any more than Rose does when I flatter her. Still, I fancy ifI were to talk to her of love it might make a difference, and perhapsI shall ere I leave the place. 

"You know, George, I have always insisted there was but one female inthe world fit to be a wife, and as that one was my sister I shouldprobably never have the pleasure of paying any bills for Mrs. HenryWarner; but I've half changed my mind, and I'm terribly afraid thisMaggie Miller, not content with breaking my bones, has made sad workwith another portion of the body, called by physiologists the heart. I don't know how a man feels when he is in love; but when this MaggieMiller looks me straight in the face with her sunshiny eyes, while herlittle soft white hand pushes back my hair (which, by the way, I slylydisarrange on purpose), I feel the blood tingle to the ends of mytoes, and still I dare not hint such a thing to her. 'Twould frightenher off in a moment, and she'll send in her place either an old hag ofa woman called Hagar, or her proud sister Theo, whom I cannot endure. 

"By the way, George, this Theo will just suit you, who are fond ofaristocracy. She's proud as Lucifer; thinks because she was bornin England, and sprang from a high family, that there is no one inAmerica worthy of her ladyship's notice, unless indeed they chance tohave money. You ought to have seen how her eyes lighted up when I toldher you were said to be worth two hundred thousand dollars! She toldme directly to invite you out here, and this, I assure you, was agood deal for her to do. So don your best attire, not forgetting thediamond cross, and come for a day or two. Old Safford will attend tothe store. It's what he was made for, and he likes it. But as I am aWarner, so shall I do my duty and warn you not to meddle with Maggie. She is my own exclusive property, and altogether too good for aworldly fellow like you. Theo will suit you better. She's justaristocratic enough in her nature. I don't see how the two girls cometo be so wholly unlike as they are. Why, I'd sooner take Maggie forRose's sister than for Theo's!

"Bless me, I had almost forgotten to ask if you remember that stiffold English woman with the snuff-colored satin who came to our storesome five years ago, and found so much fault with Yankee goods, as shecalled them? If you have forgotten her, you surely remember thetwo girls in flats, one of whom seemed so much distressed at hergrandmother's remarks. She, the distressed one, was Maggie; the otherwas Theo; and the old lady was Madam Conway, who, luckily for me, chances at this time to be in England, buying up goods, I presume. Maggie says that this trip to Worcester, together with a camp-meetingheld in the Hillsdale woods last year, is the extent of her travels, and one would think so to see her. A perfect child of nature, fullof fun, beautiful as a Hebe, and possessing the kindest heart in theworld. If you wish to know more of her come and see for yourself; butagain I warn you, hands off; nobody is to flirt with her but myself, and it is very doubtful whether even I can do it peaceably, forthat old Hagar, who, by the way, is a curious specimen, gave me tounderstand when I lay on the rock, with her sitting by, as a sort ofogress, that so long as she lived no city chap with strapped pants (dopray, bring me a pair, George, without straps!) and sneering mouth wasgoing to fool with Margaret Miller. 

"So you see my mouth is at fault again. Hang it all, I can't imaginewhat ails it, that everybody should think I'm making fun of them. Even old Safford mutters about my making mouths at him when I haven'tthought of him in a month! Present my compliments to the old gentlemanand tell him one of 'the boys' thinks seriously of following hisadvice, which you know is 'to sow our wild oats and get a wife. ' Do, pray, come, for I am only half myself without you. 

"Yours in the brotherhood, "HENRY WARNER. "

For a time after reading the above George Douglas sat wrapped inthought, then bursting into a laugh as he thought how much the letterwas like the jovial, light-hearted fellow who wrote it, he put itaside, and leaning back in his chair mused long and silently, not ofTheo, but of Maggie, half wishing he were in Warner's place instead ofbeing there in the dusty city. But as this could not be, he contentedhimself with thinking that at some time not far distant he would visitthe old stone house--would see for himself this wonderful Maggie--and, though he had been warned against it, would possibly win her fromhis friend, who, unconsciously perhaps, had often crossed his path, watching him jealously lest he should look too often and too long uponthe fragile Rose, blooming so sweetly in her bird's-nest of a homeamong the tall old trees of Leominster. 

"But he need not fear, " he said somewhat bitterly, "he need not fearfor her, for it is over now. She has refused me, this Rose Warner, andthough it touched my pride to hear her tell me no, I cannot hate herfor it. She had given her love to another, she said, and Warner isblind or crazy that he does not see the truth. But it is not for me toenlighten him. He may call her sister if he likes, though there isno tie of blood between them. I'd far rather it would be thus, thansomething nearer;" and, slowly rising up, George Douglas retired todream of a calm, almost heavenly face which but the day before hadbeen bathed in tears as he told to Rose Warner the story of his love. Mingled, too, with that dream was another face, a laughing, sparkling, merry face, upon which no man ever yet had looked and escaped with awhole heart. 

The morning light dispelled the dream, and when in the store oldSafford inquired, "What news from the boy?" the senior partneranswered gravely that he was lying among the Hillsdale hills, with abroken leg caused by a fall from his horse. 

"Always was a careless rider, " muttered old Safford, mentallydeploring the increased amount of labor which would necessarily fallupon him, but which he performed without a word of complaint. 

The fair May blossoms were faded, and the last June roses wereblooming ere George Douglas found time or inclination to accept theinvitation indirectly extended to him by Theo Miller. Rose Warner'srefusal had affected him more than he chose to confess, and the woundmust be slightly healed ere he could find pleasure in the sight ofanother. Possessed of many excellent qualities, he had unfortunatelyfallen into the error of thinking that almost anyone whom he shouldselect would take him for his money. And when Rose Warner, sitting byhis side in the shadowy twilight, had said, "I cannot be your wife, "the shock was sudden and hard to bear. But the first keen bitternesswas over now, and remembering "the wild girls of the woods, " as hementally styled both Theo and Maggie, he determined at last to seethem for himself. 

Accordingly, on the last day of June he started for Hillsdale, wherehe intended to remain until after the Fourth. To find the old housewas an easy matter, for almost everyone in town was familiar with itslocality, and towards the close of the afternoon he found himselfupon its broad steps applying vigorous strokes to the ponderous brassknocker, and half hoping the summons would be answered by Maggieherself. But it was not, and in the bent, white-haired woman who camewith measured footsteps we recognize old Hagar, who spent much of hertime at the house, and who came to the door in compliance with therequest of the young ladies, both of whom, from an upper window, werecuriously watching the stranger. 

"Just the old witch one would expect to find in this out-of-the-wayplace, " thought Mr. Douglas, while at the same time he asked if thatwere Madam Conway's residence, and if a young man by the name ofWarner were staying there. 

"Another city beau!" muttered Hagar, as she answered in theaffirmative, and ushered him into the parlor. "Another citybeau--there'll be high carryings-on now, if he's anything like theother one, who's come mighty nigh turning the house upside down. "

"What did you say?" asked George Douglas, catching the sound of hermuttering, and thinking she was addressing himself. 

"I wasn't speaking to you. I was talking to a likelier person, "answered old Hagar in an undertone, as she shuffled away in quest ofHenry Warner, who by this time was able to walk with the help of acane. 

The meeting between the young men was a joyful one, for though GeorgeDouglas was a little sore on the subject of Rose, he would not suffera matter like that to come between him and Henry Warner, whom he hadknown and liked from boyhood. Henry's first inquiries were naturallyof a business character, and then George Douglas spoke of the youngladies, saying he was only anxious to see Maggie, for he knew ofcourse he should dislike the other. 

Such, however, is wayward human nature that the fair, pale face, andquiet, dignified manner of Theo Miller had greater attractions for aperson of George Douglas' peculiar temperament than had the dashing, brilliant Maggie. There was a resemblance, he imagined, between Theoand Rose, and this of itself was sufficient to attract him towardsher. Theo, too, was equally pleased; and when, that evening, MadamJeffrey faintly interposed her fast-departing authority, telling herquondam pupils it was time they were asleep, Theo did not, as usual, heed the warning, but sat very still beneath the vine-wreathedportico, listening while George Douglas told her of the world whichshe had never seen. She was not proud towards him, for he possessedthe charm of money, and as he looked down upon her, conversing withhim so familiarly, he wondered how Henry could have called her coldand haughty--she was merely dignified, high-bred, he thought; andGeorge Douglas liked anything which savored of aristocracy. 

Meanwhile Henry and Maggie had wandered to a little summer-house, where, with the bright moonlight falling upon them, they sat together, but not exactly as of old, for Maggie did not now look up into hisface as she was wont to do, and if she thought his eye was restingupon her she moved uneasily, while the rich blood deepened on hercheek. A change has come over Maggie Miller; it is the old story, too--old to hundreds of thousands, but new to her, the blushingmaiden. Theo calls her nervous--Mrs. Jeffrey calls her sick--theservants call her mighty queer--while old Hagar, hovering ever near, and watching her with a jealous eye, knows she is in love. 

Faithfully and well had Hagar studied Henry Warner, to see if therewere aught in him of evil; and though he was not what she would havechosen for the queenly Maggie she was satisfied if Margaret loved himand he loved Margaret. But did he? He had never told her so; andin Hagar Warren's wild black eyes there was a savage gleam, as shethought, "He'll rue the day that he dares trifle with Maggie Miller. "

But Henry Warner was not trifling with her. He was only waiting afavorable opportunity for telling her the story of his love; and now, as they sit together in the moonlight, with the musical flow of themill-stream falling on his ear, he essays to speak--to tell how shehas grown into his heart; to ask her to go with him where he goes; tomake his home her home, and so be with him always; but ere the firstword was uttered Maggie asked if Mr. Douglas had brought the pictureof his sister. 

"Why, yes, " he answered; "I had forgotten it entirely. Here it is;"and taking it from his pocket he passed it to her. 

It was a face of almost ethereal loveliness that through the moonlightlooked up to Maggie Miller, and again she experienced the sameundefinable emotion, a mysterious, invisible something drawing hertowards the original of the beautiful likeness. 

"It is strange how thoughts of Rose always affect me, " she said, gazing earnestly upon the large eyes of blue shadowed forth upon thepicture. "It seems as though she must be nearer to me than an unknownfriend. "

"Seems she like a sister?" asked Henry Warner, coming so near thatMaggie felt his warm breath upon her cheek. 

"Yes, yes, that's it, " she answered, with something of her oldenfrankness. "And had I somewhere in the world an unknown sister Ishould say it was Rose Warner!"

There were a few low, whispered words, and when the full moon, whichfor a time had hidden itself behind the clouds, again shone forth inall its glory, Henry had asked Maggie Miller to be the sister of RoseWarner, and Maggie had answered "Yes"!

That night in Maggie's dreams there was a strange comminglingof thoughts. Thoughts of Henry Warner, as he told her of hislove--thoughts of the gentle girl whose eyes of blue had looked solovingly up to her, as if between them there was indeed a common bondof sympathy--and, stranger far than all, thoughts of the littlegrave beneath the pine where slept the so-called child of HesterHamilton--the child defrauded of its birthright, and who, in the mistyvagaries of dreamland, seemed to stand between her and the beautifulRose Warner!

CHAPTER VIII. 

STARS AND STRIPES. 

On the rude bench by her cabin door sat Hagar Warren, her black eyespeering out into the woods and her quick ear turned to catch the firstsound of bounding footsteps, which came at last, and Maggie Miller wassitting by her side. 

"What is it, darling?" Hagar asked, and her shriveled hand smoothedcaressingly the silken hair, as she looked into the glowing face ofthe young girl, and half guessed what was written there. 

To Theo Maggie had whispered the words, "I am engaged, " and Theo hadcoldly answered: "Pshaw! Grandma will quickly break that up. Why, Henry Warner is comparatively poor! Mr. Douglas told me so, or ratherI quizzed him until I found it out. He says, though, that Henry hasrare business talents, and he could not do without him. "

To the latter part of Theo's remark Maggie paid little heed; but themention of her grandmother troubled her. She would oppose it, Maggiewas sure of that, and it was to talk on this very subject that she hadcome to Hagar's cottage. 

"Just the way I s'posed it would end, " said Hagar, when Maggie, withblushing, half-averted face, told the story of her engagement. "Justthe way I s'posed 'twould end, but I didn't think 'twould be soquick. "

"Two months and a half is a great while, and then we have beentogether so much, " replied Maggie, at the same time asking if Hagardid not approve her choice. 

"Henry Warner's well enough, " answered Hagar. "I've watched him closeand see no evil in him; but he isn't the one for you, nor are you theone for him. You are both too wild, too full of fun, and if yokedtogether will go to destruction, I know. You need somebody to hold youback, and so does he. "

Involuntarily Maggie thought of Rose, mentally resolving to be, ifpossible, more like her. 

"You are not angry with me?" said Hagar, observing Maggie's silence. "You asked my opinion, and I gave it to you. You are too young to knowwho you like. Henry Warner is the first man you ever knew, and in twoyears' time you'll tire of him. "

"Tire of him, Hagar? Tire of Henry Warner?" cried Maggie a littleindignantly. "You do not know me, if you think I'll ever tire of him;and then, too, did I tell you grandma keeps writing to me about a Mr. Carrollton, who she says is wealthy, fine-looking, highly educated, and very aristocratic--and that last makes me hate him! I've heard somuch about aristocracy that I'm sick of it, and just for that reasonI would not have this Mr. Carrollton if I knew he'd make me queen ofEngland. But grandma's heart is set upon it, I know, and she thinksof course he would marry me--says he is delighted with mydaguerreotype--that awful one, too, with the staring eyes. Ingrandma's last letter he sent me a note. 'Twas beautifully written, and I dare say he is a fine young man, at least he talks common sense, but I shan't answer it; and, if you'll believe me, I used part ofit in lighting Henry's cigar, and with the rest I shall lightfirecrackers on the Fourth of July; Henry has bought a lot of them, and we're going to have fun. How grandma would scold!--but I shallmarry Henry Warner, anyway. Do you think she will oppose me, when shesees how determined I am?"

"Of course she will, " answered Hagar. "I know those Carrolltons--theyare a haughty race; and if your grandmother has one of them in viewshe'll turn you from her door sooner than see you married to another, and an American, too. "

There was a moment's silence, and then, with an unnatural gleam inher eye, old Hagar turned towards Maggie, and, grasping her shoulder, said: "If she does this thing, Maggie Miller, --if she casts youoff, --will you take me for your grandmother? Will you let me live withyou? I'll be your drudge, your slave; say, Maggie, may I go with you?Will you call me grandmother? I'd willingly die if only once I couldhear you speak to me thus, and know it was in love. "

For a moment Maggie looked at her in astonishment; then thinking toherself, "She surely is half-crazed, " she answered laughingly: "Yes, Hagar, if grandma casts me off, you may go with me. I shall need yourcare, but I can't promise to call you grandma, because you know youare not. "

The corners of Hagar's mouth worked nervously, but her teeth shutfirmly over the thin, white lip, forcing back the wild words tremblingthere, and the secret was not told. 

"Go home, Maggie Miller, " she said at last, rising slowly to her feet. "Go home now, and leave me alone. I am willing you should marry HenryWarner--nay, I wish you to do it; but you must remember your promise. "

Maggie was about to answer, when her thoughts were directed to anotherchannel by the sight of George Douglas and Theo coming slowly down theshaded pathway which led past Hagar's door. Old Hagar saw them too, and, whispering to Maggie, said, "There's another marriage brewing, orthe signs do not tell true, and madam will sanction this one, too, forthere's money there, and gold can purify any blood. "

Ere Maggie could reply Theo called out, "You here, Maggie, as usual?"adding, aside, to her companion: "She has the most unaccountabletaste, so different from me, who cannot endure anything low andvulgar. Can you? But I need not ask, " she continued, "for yourassociations have been of a refined nature. "

George Douglas did not answer, for his thoughts were back in the brownfarmhouse at the foot of the hill, where his boyhood was passed, andhe wondered what the high-bred lady at his side would say if she couldsee the sunburned man and plain, old-fashioned woman who called himtheir son George Washington. He would not confess that he was ashamedof his parentage, for he tried to be a kind and dutiful child, but hewould a little rather that Theo Miller should not know how democratichad been his early training. So he made no answer, but, addressinghimself to Maggie, asked how she could find it in her heart to leaveher patient so long. 

"I'm going back directly, " she said, and donning her hat she startedfor home, thinking she had gained but little satisfaction from Hagar, who, as Douglas and Theo passed on, resumed her seat by the door, and, listening to the sound of Margaret's retreating footsteps, muttered:"The old light-heartedness is gone. There are shadows gathering roundher; for once in love, she'll never be as free and joyous again. Butit can't be helped; it's the destiny of women, and I only hope thisWarner is worthy of her. But he aint. He's too wild--too full of whatHagar Warren calls bedevilment. And Maggie does everything he tellsher to do. Not content with tearing down his bed-curtains, which havehung there full twenty years, she's set things all cornerwise, becausethe folks do so in Worcester, and has turned the parlor into asmoking-room, till all the air of Hillsdale can't take away thattobacco scent. Why, it almost knocks me down!" and the old ladygroaned aloud, as she recounted to herself the recent innovations uponthe time-honored habits of her mistress' house. 

Henry Warner was, indeed, rather a fast young man, but it needed thesuggestive presence of George Douglas to bring out his true character;and for the four days succeeding the arrival of the latter there wererare doings at the old stone house, where the astonished and ratherdelighted servants looked on in amazement while the young men sangtheir jovial songs and drank of the rare old wine which Maggie, utterly fearless of what her grandmother might say, brought from thecellar below. But when, on the morning of the Fourth, Henry Warnersuggested that they have a celebration, or at least hang out theAmerican flag by way of showing their patriotism, there were signs ofrebellion in the kitchen, while even Mrs. Jeffrey, who had long sinceceased to interfere, felt it her duty to remonstrate. Accordingly, shedescended to the parlor, where she found George Douglas and Maggiedancing to the tune of "Yankee Doodle, " which Theo played upon thepiano, while Henry Warner whistled a most stirring accompaniment! Tobe heard above that din was impossible, and involuntarily patting herown slippered foot to the lively strain the distressed little ladywent back to her room, wondering what Madam Conway would say if sheknew how her house was being desecrated. 

But Madam Conway did not know. She was three thousand miles away, andwith this distance between them Maggie dared do anything; so when theflag was again mentioned, she answered apologetically, as if it weresomething of which they ought to be ashamed: "We never had any, butwe can soon make one, I know. 'Twill be fun to see it float from thehousetop!" and, flying up the stairs to the dusty garret, she drewfrom a huge oaken chest a scarlet coat which had belonged to theformer owner of the place, who little thought, as he sat in state, that his favorite coat would one day furnish material for the emblemof American freedom!

No such thought as this, however, obtruded itself upon Maggie as shebent over the chest. "The coat is of no use, " she said, and gatheringit up she ran back to the parlor, where, throwing it across Henry'slap, she told how it had belonged to her great-great-grandfather, whoat the time of the Revolution went home to England. The young menexchanged a meaning look, and then burst into a laugh, but the causeof their merriment they did not explain, lest the prejudices of thegirls should be aroused. 

"This is just the thing, " said Henry, entering heart and soul into thespirit of the fun. "This is grand. Can't you find some blue for thegroundwork of the stars?"

Maggie thought a moment, and then exclaimed: "Oh, yes--I have it;grandma has a blue satin bodice which she wore when she was a younglady. She once gave me a part of the back for my doll's dress. Shewon't care if I cut up the rest for a banner. "

"Of course not, " answered George Douglas. "She'll be glad to haveit used for such a laudable purpose, " and walking to the windowhe laughed heartily as he saw in fancy the wrath of the proudEnglishwoman when she learned the use to which her satin bodice hadbeen appropriated. 

The waist was brought in a twinkling, and then, when Henry asked forsome white, Maggie cried, "A sheet will be just the thing--one ofgrandma's small linen ones. It won't hurt it a bit, " she added, asshe saw a shadow on Theo's brow, and, mounting to the top of the highchest of drawers, she brought out a sheet of finest linen, which, withrose leaves and fragrant herbs, had been carefully packed away. 

It was a long, delightful process, the making of that banner; andMaggie's voice rang out loud and clear as she saw how cleverly HenryWarner managed the shears, cutting the red coat into stripes. Thearrangement of the satin fell to Maggie's lot; and while GeorgeDouglas made the stars, Theo looked on a little doubtfully--not thather nationality was in any way affected, for what George Douglassanctioned was by this time right with her; but she felt somemisgiving as to what her grandmother might say; and, thinking if shedid nothing but look on and laugh the blame would fall on Maggie, shestood aloof, making occasionally a suggestion, and seeming as pleasedas anyone when at last the flag was done. A quilting-frame served asa flagstaff, and Maggie was chosen to plant it upon the top of thehouse, where was a cupola, or miniature tower, overlooking thesurrounding country. Leading to this tower was a narrow staircase, andup these stairs Maggie bore the flag, assisted by one of the servantgirls, whose birthplace was green Erin, and whose broad, good-humoredface shone with delight as she fastened the pole securely in itsplace, and then shook aloft her checked apron, in answer to the cheerwhich came up from below, when first the American banner waved overthe old stone house. 

Attracted by the noise, and wondering what fresh mischief they weredoing, Mrs. Jeffrey went out into the yard just in time to see theflag of freedom as it shook itself out in the summer breeze. 

"Heaven help me!" she ejaculated; "the 'Stars and Stripes' on MadamConway's house!" and, resolutely shutting her eyes, lest they shouldlook again on what to her seemed sacrilege, she groped her way backto the house; and, retiring to her room, wrote to Madam Conway anexaggerated account of the proceedings, bidding her hasten home oreverything would be ruined. 

The letter being written, the good lady felt better--so much better, indeed, that after an hour's deliberation she concluded not to sendit, inasmuch as it contained many complaints against the young ladyMargaret, who she knew was sure in the end to find favor in hergrandmother's eyes. This was the first time Mrs. Jeffrey hadattempted a letter to her employer, for Maggie had been the chosencorrespondent, Theo affecting to dislike anything like letter-writing. On the day previous to Henry Warner's arrival at the stone houseMaggie had written to her grandmother, and ere the time came for herto write again she had concluded to keep his presence there a secret:so Madam Conway was, as yet, ignorant of his existence; and whilein the homes of the English nobility she bore herself like a royalduchess, talking to young Arthur Carrollton of her beautifulgranddaughter, she little dreamed of the real state of affairs athome. 

But it was not for Mrs. Jeffrey to enlighten her, and tearing herletter in pieces the governess sat down in her easy-chair by thewindow, mentally congratulating herself upon the fact that "the twoyoung savages, " as she styled Douglas and Warner, were to leave on themorrow. This last act of theirs, the hoisting of the banner, had beenthe culminating point; and, too indignant to sit with them at the sametable, she resolutely kept her room throughout the entire day, poringintently over Baxter's "Saints' Rest, " her favorite volume when at allflurried or excited. Occasionally, too, she would stop her ears withjeweler's cotton, to shut out the sound of "Hail, Columbia!" as itcame up to her from the parlor below, where the young men were doingtheir best to show their patriotism. 

Towards evening, alarmed by a whizzing sound, which seemed to be oftenrepeated, and wishing to know the cause, she stole halfway down thestairs, when the mischievous Maggie greeted her with a "serpent, "which, hissing beneath her feet, sent her quickly back to herroom, from which she did not venture again. Mrs. Jeffrey was verygood-natured, and reflecting that "young folks must have fun, " shebecame at last comparatively calm, and at an early hour sought herpillow. But thoughts of "stars and stripes" waving directly over herhead, as she knew they were, made her nervous, and the long clockstruck the hour of two, and she was yet restless and wakeful, notwithstanding the near approach of dawn. 

"Maybe the 'Saints' Rest' will quiet me a trifle, " she thought; and, striking a light, she attempted to read; but in vain, for every wordwas a star, every line a stripe, and every leaf a flag. Shutting thebook and hurriedly pacing the floor, she exclaimed: "It's of no usetrying to sleep, or meditate either. Baxter himself couldn't do itwith that thing over his head, and I mean to take it down. It's a dutyI owe to King George's memory, and to Madam Conway;" and, stealingfrom her room, she groped her way up the dark, narrow stairway, until, emerging into the bright moonlight, she stood directly beneath theAmerican banner, waving so gracefully in the night wind. "It's aclever enough device, " she said, gazing rather admiringly at it. "AndI'd let it be if I s'posed I could sleep a wink; but I can't. It'sworse for my nerves than strong green tea, and I'll not lie awake forall the Yankee flags in Christendom. " So saying, the resolute littlewoman tugged at the quilt-frame until she loosened it from itsfastenings, and then started to return. 

But, alas! the way was narrow and dark, the banner was large andcumbersome, while the lady that bore it was nervous and weak. It isnot strange, then, that Maggie, who slept at no great distance, wasawakened by a tremendous crash, as of someone falling the entirelength of the tower stairs, while a voice, frightened and faint, called out; "Help me, Margaret, do! I am dead! I know I am!"

Striking a light, Maggie hurried to the spot, while her merry laugharoused the servants, who came together in a body. Stretched upon thefloor, with one foot thrust entirely through the banner, which wasfolded about her so that the quilt-frame lay directly upon her bosom, was Mrs. Jeffrey, the broad frill of her cap standing up erect, andherself asserting with every breath that "she was dead and buried, sheknew she was. "

"Wrapped in a winding-sheet, I'll admit, " said Maggie, "but notquite dead, I trust;" and, putting down her light, she attempted toextricate her governess, who continued to apologize for what she haddone. "Not that I cared so much about your celebrating America; but Icouldn't sleep with the thing over my head; I was going to put it backin the morning before you were up. There! there! careful! It's brokenshort off!" she screamed, as Maggie tried to release her foot from therent in the linen sheet, a rent which the frightened woman persistedin saying she could darn as good as new, while at the same time sheimplored of Maggie to handle carefully her ankle, which had beensprained by the fall. 

Maggie's recent experience in broken bones had made her quite anadept, and taking the slight form of Mrs. Jeffrey in her arms shecarried her back to her room, where, growing more quiet, the oldlady told her how she happened to fall, saying she never thought ofstumbling, until she fancied that Washington and all his regiment wereafter her, and when she turned her head to see, she lost her footingand fell. 

Forcing back her merriment, which in spite of herself wouldoccasionally burst forth, Maggie made her teacher as comfortable aspossible, and then stayed with her until morning, when, leaving herin charge of a servant, she went below to say farewell to her guests. Between George Douglas and Theo there were a few low-spoken words, shegranting him permission to write, while he promised to visit her againin the early autumn. He had not yet talked to her of love, for RoseWarner had still a home in his heart, and she must be dislodged ereanother could take her place. But his affection for her was growinggradually less. Theo suited him well; her family suited him better, and when at parting he took her hand in his he resolved to ask her forit when next he came to Hillsdale. 

Meanwhile between Henry Warner and Maggie there was a far moreaffectionate farewell, he whispering to her of a time not far distantwhen he would claim her as his own, and, she should go with him. Hewould write to her every week, he said, and Rose should write too. Hewould see Rose in a few days, and tell her of his engagement, which heknew would please her. 

"Let me send her a line, " said Maggie, and on a tiny sheet of papershe wrote: "Dear Rose: Are you willing I should be your sisterMaggie?"

Half an hour later, and Hagar Warren, coming through the garden gate, looked after the carriage which bore the gentlemen to the depot, muttering to herself: "I'm glad the high bucks have gone. A goodriddance to them both. "

In her disorderly chamber, too, Mrs. Jeffrey hobbled on one foot tothe window, where, with a deep sigh of relief, she sent after theyoung men a not very complimentary adieu, which was echoed in part bythe servants below, while Theo, on the piazza, exclaimed against thelonesome old house, which was never so lonesome before, and Maggieseated herself upon the stairs and cried!

CHAPTER IX. 

ROSE WARNER. 

Nestled among the tall old trees which skirt the borders of Leominstervillage was the bird's-nest of a cottage which Rose Warner called herhome, and which, with its wealth of roses, its trailing vines andflowering shrubs, seemed fitted for the abode of one like her. Slightas a child twelve summers old, and fair as the white pond lily whenfirst to the morning sun it unfolds its delicate petals, she seemedtoo frail for earth; and both her aunt and he whom she called brotherwatched carefully lest the cold north wind should blow too rudely onthe golden curls which shaded her childish brow. Very, very beautifulwas little Rose, and yet few ever looked upon her without a feeling ofsadness; for in the deep blue of her eyes there was a mournful, dreamylook, as if the shadow of some great sorrow were resting thus earlyupon her. 

And Rose Warner had a sorrow, too--a grief which none save one hadever suspected. To him it had come with the words, "I cannot be yourwife for I love another; one who will never know how dear he is tome. "

The words were involuntarily spoken, and George Douglas, looking downupon her, guessed rightly that he who would never know how much hewas beloved was Henry Warner. To her the knowledge that Henry wassomething dearer than a brother had come slowly, filling her heartwith pain, for she well knew that whether he clasped her to his bosom, as he often did, or pressed his lips upon her brow, he thought of heronly as a brother thinks of a beautiful and idolized sister. It hadheretofore been some consolation to know that his affections wereuntrammeled with thoughts of another, that she alone was the object ofhis love, and hope had sometimes faintly whispered of what perchancemight be; but from that dream she was waking now, and her face grewwhiter still as there came to her from time to time letters fraughtwith praises of Margaret Miller; and if in Rose Warner's nature therehad been a particle of bitterness, it would have been called forthtoward one who, she foresaw, would be her rival. But Rose knew nomalice, and she felt that she would sooner die than do aught to marthe happiness of Maggie Miller. 

For nearly two weeks she had not heard from Henry, and she wasbeginning to feel very anxious, when one morning, two or three dayssucceeding the memorable Hillsdale celebration, as she sat in a smallarbor so thickly overgrown with the Michigan rose as to render herinvisible at a little distance, she was startled by hearing him callher name, as he came in quest of her down the garden walk. The nextmoment he held her in his arms, kissing her forehead, her lips, hercheek; then holding her off, he looked to see if there had been in heraught of change since last they met. 

"You are paler than you were, Rose darling, " he said, "and your eyeslook as if they had of late been used to tears. What is it, dearest?What troubles you?"

Rose could not answer immediately, for his sudden coming had takenaway her breath, and as he saw a faint blush stealing over her face hecontinued, "Can it be my little sister has been falling in love duringmy absence?"

Never before had he spoken to her thus; but a change had come overhim, his heart was full of a beautiful image, and fancying Rose mighthave followed his example he asked her the question he did, without, however, expecting or receiving a definite answer. 

"I am so lonely, Henry, when you are gone and do not write to me!" shesaid; and in the tones of her voice there was a slight reproof, whichHenry felt keenly. 

He had been so engrossed with Maggie Miller and the free joyous lifehe led in the Hillsdale woods, that for a time he had neglected Rose, who, in his absence, depended so much on his letters for comfort. 

"I have been very selfish, I know, " he said; "but I was so happy, thatfor a time I forgot everything save Maggie Miller. "

An involuntary shudder ran through Rose's slender form; but, conquering her emotion, she answered calmly: "What of this MaggieMiller? Tell me of her, will you?"

Winding his arm around her waist, and drawing her closely to his side, Henry Warner rested her head upon his bosom, where it had often lain, and, smoothing her golden curls, told her of Maggie Miller, of herqueenly beauty, of her dashing, independent spirit, her frank, ingenuous manner, her kindness of heart; and last of all, bending verylow, lest the vine leaves and the fair blossoms of the rose shouldhear, he told her of his love; and Rose, the fairest flower of allwhich bloomed around that bower, clasped her hand upon her heart, lesthe should see its wild throbbings, and, forcing back the tears whichmoistened her long lashes, listened to the knell of all her hopes. Henceforth her love for him must be an idle mockery, and the timewould come when to love him as she loved him then would be a sin--awrong to herself, a wrong to him, and a wrong to Maggie Miller. 

"You are surely not asleep, " he said at last, as she made him noreply, and bending forward he saw the tear-drops resting on her cheek. "Not asleep, but weeping!" he exclaimed. "What is it, darling? Whattroubles you?" And lifting up her head, Rose Warner answered, "I wasthinking how this new love of yours would take you from me, and Ishould be alone. "

"No, not alone, " he said, wiping her tears away. "Maggie and I havearranged that matter. You are to live with us, and instead of losingme you are to gain another--a sister, Rose. You have often wished youhad one, and you could surely find none worthier than Maggie Miller. "

"Will she watch over you, Henry? Will she be to you what your wifeshould be?" asked Rose; and Henry answered: "She is not at all likeyou, my little sister. She relies implicitly upon my judgment; so yousee I shall need your blessed influence all the same, to make me whatyour brother and Maggie's husband ought to be. "

"Did she send me no message?" asked Rose; and taking out the tinynote, Henry passed it to her, just as his aunt called to him from thehouse, whither he went, leaving her alone. 

There were blinding tears in Rose's eyes as she read the few lines, and involuntarily she pressed her lips to the paper which she knew hadbeen touched by Maggie Miller's hands. 

"My sister--sister Maggie, " she repeated; and at the sound of thatname her fast-beating heart grew still, for they seemed very sweet toher, those words "my sister, " thrilling her with a new and strangeemotion, and awakening within her a germ of the deep, undying love shewas yet to feel for her who had traced those words and asked to be hersister. "I will do right, " she thought; "I will conquer this foolishheart of mine, or break it in the struggle, and Henry Warner shallnever know how sorely it was wrung. "

The resolution gave her strength, and, rising up, she too sought thehouse, where, retiring to her room, she penned a hasty note to Maggie, growing calmer with each word she wrote. 

"I grant your request [she said] and take you for a sister wellbeloved. I had a half-sister once, they say, but she died when alittle babe. I never looked upon her face, and connected with herbirth there was too much of sorrow and humiliation for me to thinkmuch of her, save as of one who, under other circumstances, might havebeen dear to me. And yet as I grow older I often find myself wishingshe had lived, for my father's blood was in her veins. But I do noteven know where her grave was made, for we only heard one wintermorning, years ago, that she was dead with the mother who bore her. Forgive me, Maggie dear, for saying so much about that little child. Thoughts of you, who are to be my sister, make me think of her, who, had she lived, would have been a young lady now nearly your own age. So in the place of her, whom, knowing, I would have loved, I adoptyou, sweet Maggie Miller, my sister and my friend. May Heaven'schoicest blessings rest on you forever, and no shadow come between youand the one you have chosen for your husband! To my partial eyes he isworthy of you, Maggie, royal in bearing and queenly in form though yoube, and that you may be happy with him will be the daily prayer of

"ROSE. "

The letter was finished, and Rose gave it to her brother, who, afterits perusal, kissed her, saying: "It is right, my darling. I will sendit to-morrow with mine; and now for a ride. I will see what a littleexercise can do for you. I do not like the color of your face. "

But neither the fragrant summer air, nor yet the presence of HenryWarner, who tarried several days, could rouse the drooping Rose; andwhen at last she was left alone she sought her bed, where for manyweeks she hovered between life and death, while her brother and heraunt hung over her pillow, and Maggie, from her woodland home, sentmany an anxious inquiry and message of love to the sick girl. In theclose atmosphere of his counting-room George Douglas too again battledmanfully with his olden love, listening each day to hear that she wasdead. But not thus early was Rose to die, and with the waning summerdays she came slowly back to life. More beautiful than ever, becausemore ethereal and fair, she walked the earth like one who, havingstruggled with a mighty sorrow, had won the victory at last; and HenryWarner, when he looked on her sweet, placid face, and listened to hervoice as she made plans for the future, when Maggie would be his wife, dreamed not of the grave hidden in the deep recesses of her heart, where grew no flower of hope or semblance of earthly joy. 

Thus little know mankind of each other!

CHAPTER X

EXPECTED GUESTS. 

On the Hillsdale hills the October sun was shining, and the foresttrees were donning their robes of scarlet and brown, when again theold stone house presented an air of joyous expectancy. The large, darkparlors were thrown open, the best chambers were aired, the bright, autumnal flowers were gathered and in tastefully arranged bouquetsadorned the mantels, while Theo and Maggie, in their best attire, flitted uneasily from room to room, running sometimes to the gateto look down the grassy road which led from the highway, and againmounting the tower stairs to obtain a more extended view. 

In her pleasant apartment, where last we left her with a sprainedankle, Mrs. Jeffrey, too, fidgeted about, half sympathizing with herpupils in their happiness, and half regretting the cause of thathappiness, which was the expected arrival of George Douglas and HenryWarner, who, true to their promise, were coming again to try for aweek the Hillsdale air, and retrieve their character as fast youngmen. So, at least, they told Mrs. Jeffrey, who, mindful of her exploitwith the banner, and wishing to make some amends, met them alone onthe threshhold, Maggie having at the last moment run away, while Theosat in a state of dignified perturbation upon the sofa. 

A few days prior to their arrival letters had been received from MadamConway saying she should probably, remain in England two or threeweeks longer, and thus the house was again clear to the young men, who, forgetting to retrieve their characters, fairly outdid all theyhad done before. The weather was remarkably clear and bracing, and thegreater part of each day was spent in the open air, either in fishing, riding, or hunting; Maggie teaching Henry Warner how to ride and leap, while he in turn taught her to shoot a bird upon the wing, until thepupil was equal to her master. In these outdoor excursions GeorgeDouglas and Theo did not always join, for he had something to saywhich he would rather tell her in the silent parlor, and which, whentold, furnished food for many a quiet conversation; so Henry andMaggie rode oftentimes alone; and old Hagar, when she saw them dashingpast her door, Maggie usually taking the lead, would shake her headand mutter to herself: "'Twill never do--that match. He ought to holdher back, instead of leading her on. I wish Madam Conway would, comehome and end it. "

Mrs. Jeffrey wished so too, as night after night her slumbers weredisturbed by the sounds of merriment which came up to her from theparlor below, where the young people were "enjoying themselves, " asMaggie said when reproved for the noisy revels. The day previousto the one set for their departure chanced to be Henry Warner'stwenty-seventh birthday, and this Maggie resolved to honor with anextra supper, which was served at an unusually late hour in the diningroom, the door of which opened out upon a closely latticed piazza. 

"I wish we could think of something new to do, " said Maggie, as shepresided at the table--"something real funny;" then, as her eyes fellupon the dark piazza, where a single light was burning dimly, sheexclaimed: "Why can't we get up tableaux? There are heaps of thequeerest clothes in the big oaken chest in the garret. The servantscan be audience, and they need some recreation!"

The suggestion was at once approved, and in half an hour's time thefloor was strewn with garments of every conceivable fashion, from longstockings and small clothes to scarlet cloaks and gored skirts, thelatter of which were immediately donned by Henry Warner, to theinfinite delight of the servants, who enjoyed seeing the grotesquecostumes, even if they did not exactly understand what the tableauxwere intended to represent. The banner, too, was brought out, andafter bearing a conspicuous part in the performance was placed at theend of the dining room, where it would be the first thing visible to aperson opening the door opposite. At a late hour the servants retired, and then George Douglas, who took kindly to the luscious old wine, which Maggie again had brought from her grandmother's choicest store, filled a goblet to the brim, and, pledging first the health of theyoung girls, drank to "the old lady across the water" with whose goodsthey were thus making free!

Henry Warner rarely tasted wine, for though miles away from Rose herinfluence was around him--so, filling his glass with water, he toodrank to the wish that "the lady across the sea" would remain thereyet a while, or at all events not "stumble upon us to-night!"

"What if she should!" thought Maggie, glancing around at the differentarticles scattered all over the floor, and laughing as she saw infancy her grandmother's look of dismay should she by any possiblechance obtain a view of the room, where perfect order and quiet hadbeen wont to reign. 

But the good lady was undoubtedly taking her morning nap on theshores of old England. There was no danger to be apprehended from herunexpected arrival, they thought; and just as the clock struck one theyoung men sought their rooms, greatly to the relief of Mrs. Jeffrey, who, in her long night robe, with streaming candle in hand, hadmore than a dozen times leaned over the banister, wondering if the"carouse" would ever end. 

It did end at last; and, tired and sleepy, Theo went directly to herchamber, while Maggie stayed below, thinking to arrange matters alittle, for their guests were to leave on the first train, and she hadordered an early breakfast. But it was a hopeless task, the puttingof that room to rights; and trusting much to the good-nature of thehousekeeper, she finally gave it up and went to bed, forgetting in herdrowsiness to fasten the outer door, or yet to extinguish the lampwhich burned upon the sideboard. 

CHAPTER XI. 

UNEXPECTED GUESTS. 

At the delightful country seat of Arthur Carrollton Madam Conway hadpassed many pleasant days, and was fully intending to while awayseveral more, when an unexpected summons from his father made itnecessary for the young man to go immediately to London; and, as anAmerican steamer was about to leave the port of Liverpool, MadamConway determined to start for home at once. Accordingly, she wrotefor Anna Jeffrey, whom she had promised to take with her, to meet herin Liverpool, and a few days previous to the arrival of George Douglasand Henry Warner at Hillsdale, the two ladies embarked with an endlessvariety of luggage, to say nothing of Miss Anna's guitar-case, bird-cage, and favorite lap-dog "Lottie. "

Once fairly on the sea, Madam Conway became exceedingly impatient anddisagreeable, complaining both of fare and speed, and at length cameon deck one morning with the firm belief that something dreadful hadhappened to Maggie! She was dangerously sick, she knew, for never butonce before had she been visited with a like presentiment, and thatwas just before her daughter died. Then it came to her just as thishad done, in her sleep, and very nervously the lady paced the vessel'sdeck, counting the days as they passed, and almost weeping for joywhen told Boston was in sight. Immediately after landing she madeinquiries as to when the next train passing Hillsdale station wouldleave the city, and though it was midnight she resolved at all hazardsto go on, for if Maggie were really ill there was no time to be lost!

Accordingly, when at four o'clock A. M. Maggie, who was partiallyawake, heard in the distance the shrill scream of the engine, as thenight express thundered through the town, she little dreamed of theboxes, bundles, trunks, and bags which lined the platform of Hillsdalestation, nor yet of the resolute woman in brown who persevered until arude one-horse wagon was found in which to transport herself and herbaggage to the old stone house. The driver of the vehicle, in which, under ordinary circumstances, Madam Conway would have scorned toride, was a long, lean, half-witted fellow, utterly unfitted for hisbusiness. Still, he managed quite well until they turned into thegrassy by-road, and Madam Conway saw through the darkness the lightwhich Maggie had inadvertently left within the dining room!

There was no longer a shadow of uncertainty. "Margaret was dead!"and the lank Tim was ordered to drive faster, or the excited woman, perched on one of her traveling-trunks, would be obliged to foot it! Afew vigorous strokes of the whip set the sorrel horse into a canter, and as the night was dark, and the road wound round among the trees, it is not at all surprising that Madam Conway, with her eye still onthe beacon light, found herself seated rather unceremoniously in themidst of a brush heap, her goods and chattels rolling promiscuouslyaround her, while lying across a log, her right hand clutching at thebird-cage, and her left grasping the shaggy hide of Lottie, who yelledmost furiously, was Anna Jeffrey, half blinded with mud, and bitterlydenouncing American drivers and Yankee roads! To gather themselvestogether was not an easy matter, but the ten pieces were at last alltold, and then, holding up her skirts, bedraggled with dew, MadamConway resumed her seat in the wagon, which was this time driven insafety to her door. Giving orders for her numerous boxes to be safelybestowed, she hastened forward and soon stood upon the threshold. 

"Great Heaven!" she exclaimed, starting backward so suddenly that shetrod upon the foot of Lottie, who again sent forth an outcry, whichAnna Jeffrey managed to choke down. "Is this bedlam, or what?" Andstepping out upon the piazza, she looked to see if the blunderingdriver had made a mistake. But no; it was the same old gray stonehouse she had left some months before; and again pressing boldlyforward, she took the lamp from the sideboard and commenced toreconnoiter. "My mother's wedding dress, as I live! and her scarletbroadcloth, too!" she cried, holding to view the garments whichHenry Warner had thrown upon the arm of the long settee. A turban orcushion, which she recognized as belonging to her grandmother, nextcaught her view, together with the smallclothes of her sire. 

"The entire contents of the oaken chest, " she continued, in a tone farfrom calm and cool. "What can have happened! It's some of that crazyHagar's work, I know. I'll have her put in the--" But whatever theevil was which threatened Hagar Warren it was not defined by words, for at that moment the indignant lady caught sight of an empty bottle, which she instantly recognized as having held her very oldest, choicest wine. "The Lord help me!" she cried, "I've been robbed;" andgrasping the bottle by the neck, she leaned up against the bannerwhich she had not yet descried. 

"In the name of wonder, what's this?" she almost screamed, as the fullblaze of the lamp fell upon the flag, revealing the truth at once, andpartially stopping her breath. 

Robbery was nothing to insult; and, forgetting the wine, she gasped:"'Stars and Stripes' in this house! In the house of my grandfather, as loyal a subject as King George ever boasted! What can Margaret bedoing to suffer a thing like this?"

A few steps further on, and Margaret herself might have been seenpeering out into the darkened upper hall, and listening anxiouslyto her grandmother's voice. The sound of the rattling old wagon hadaroused her, and, curious to know who was stirring at this early hour, she had cautiously opened her window, which overlooked the piazza, andto her great dismay had recognized her grandmother as she gave ordersconcerning her baggage. Flying back to her room, she awoke her sister, who, springing up in bed, whispered faintly: "Will she kill us dead, Maggie? Will she kill us dead?"

"Pshaw! no, " answered Maggie, her own courage rising with Theo'sfears. "She'll have to scold a spell, I suppose; but I can coax her, Iknow!"

By this time the old lady was ascending the stairs, and closing thedoor Maggie applied her eye to the keyhole, listening breathlessly forwhat might follow. George Douglas and Henry Warner occupied separaterooms, and their boots were now standing outside their doors, readyfor the chore boy, Jim, who thus earned a quarter every day. Stumblingfirst upon the pair belonging to George Douglas, the lady took themup, ejaculating: "Boots! boots! Yes, men's boots, as I'm a livingwoman! The like was never seen by me before in this hall. Anotherpair!" she continued, as her eye fell on those of Henry Warner. "Another pair, and in the best chamber, too! What will come next?" Andsetting down her light, she wiped the drops of perspiration from herface, at the same time looking around in some alarm lest the owners ofsaid boots should come forth. 

Just at that moment Mrs. Jeffrey appeared. Alarmed by the unusualnoise, and fancying the young gentlemen might be robbing the house asa farewell performance, she had donned a calico wrapper, and tying ablack silk handkerchief over her cap, had taken her scissors, the onlyweapon of defense she could find, and thus equipped for battle she hadsallied forth. She was prepared for burglars--nay, she would nothave been disappointed had she found the young men busily engaged inremoving the ponderous furniture from their rooms; but the sight ofMadam Conway, at that unseasonable hour, was wholly unexpected, and inher fright she dropped the lamp which she had lighted in place of hercandle, and which was broken in fragments, deluging the carpet withoil and eliciting a fresh groan from Madam Conway. 

"Jeffrey, Jeffrey!" she gasped; "what have you done?"

"Great goodness!" ejaculated Mrs. Jeffrey, remembering her adventurewhen once before she left her room in the night. "I certainly am themost unfortunate of mortals. Catch me out of bed again, let what willhappen;" and turning, she was about to leave the hall, when MadamConway, anxious to know what had been done, called her back, sayingrather indignantly, "I'd like to know whose house I am in?"

"A body would suppose 'twas Miss Margaret's, the way she's conducted, "answered Mrs. Jeffrey; and Madam Conway continued, pointing to theboots: "Who have we here? These are not Margaret's, surely?"

"No, ma'am, they belong to the young men who have turned the housetopsy-turvy with their tableaux, their Revolution celebration, theirbanner, and carousing generally, " said Mrs. Jeffrey, rather pleasedthan otherwise at being the first to tell the news. 

"Young men!" repeated Madam Conway--"what young men? Where did theycome from, and why are they here?"

"They are Douglas and Warner, " said Mrs. Jeffrey, "two as bigscapegraces as there are this side of Old Bailey--that's what theyare. They came from Worcester, and if I've any discernment they areafter your girls, and your girls are after them. "

"After my girls! After Maggie! It can't be possible!" gasped Mrs. Conway, thinking of Arthur Carrollton. 

"It's the very truth, though, " returned Mrs. Jeffrey. "Henry Warner, who, in my opinion, is the worst of the two, got to chasing Margaretin the woods, as long ago as last April. She jumped Gritty across thegorge, and he, like a fool, jumped after, breaking his leg--"

"Pity it hadn't been his neck, " interrupted Madam Conway; and Mrs. Jeffrey continued: "Of course he was brought here, and Margaret tookcare of him. After a while his comrade Douglas came out, and of allthe carousals you ever thought of, I reckon they had the worst. 'Twasthe Fourth of July, and if you'll believe it they made a banner, andMaggie planted it herself on the housetop. They went off next morning;but now they've come again, and last night the row beat all. I nevergot a wink of sleep till after two o'clock. "

Here, entirely out of breath, the old lady paused, and, going to herroom, brought out a basin of water and a towel, with which she triedto wipe off the oil. But Madam Conway paid little heed to the spoiledcarpet, so engrossed was she with what she had heard. 

"I am astonished at Margaret's want of discretion, " said she, "and Idepended so much upon her, too. "

"I always knew you were deceived by her, " said Mrs. Jeffrey, stillbending over the oil; "but it wasn't for me to say so, for you areblinded towards that girl. She's got some of the queerest notions, andthen she's so high-strung. She won't listen to reason. But I did mycountry good service once. I went up in the dead of night to take downthe flag, and I don't regret it either, even if it did pitch me to thebottom of the stairs, and sprained my ankle. "

"Served you right, " interposed Madam Conway, who, not at all pleasedat hearing Margaret thus censured, now turned the full force of herwrath upon the poor little governess, blaming her for having sufferedsuch proceedings. "What did Margaret and Theo know, young things asthey were? and what was Mrs. Jeffrey there for if not to keep themcircumspect! But instead of doing this, she had undoubtedly encouragedthem in their folly, and then charged it upon Margaret. "

It was in vain that the greatly distressed and astonished ladyprotested her innocence, pleading her sleepless nights and lame ankleas proofs of having done her duty; Madam Conway would not listen. "Somebody was of course to blame, " and as it is a long-establishedrule that a part of every teacher's duty is to be responsible for thefaults of the pupils, so Madam Conway now continued to chide Mrs. Jeffrey as the prime-mover of everything, until that lady, overwhelmedwith the sense of injustice done her, left the oil and retired to herroom, saying as she closed the door: "I was never so injured in all mylife--never. To think that after all my trouble she should charge itto me! It will break my heart, I know. Where shall I go for comfort orrest?"

This last word was opportune and suggestive. If rest could not befound in Baxter's "Saints' Rest, " it was not by her to be found atall; and, sitting down by the window in the gray dawn of the morning, she strove to draw comfort from the words of the good divine; but invain. It had never failed her before; but never before had she been sodeeply injured; and, closing the volume at last, she paced the floorin a very perturbed state of mind. 

Meantime, Madam Conway had sought her granddaughter's chamber, whereTheo in her fright had taken refuge under the bed, while Maggiefeigned a deep, sound sleep. A few vigorous shakes, however, arousedher, when, greatly to the amazement of her grandmother, she burst intoa merry laugh, and, winding her arms around the highly scandalizedlady's neck, said: "Forgive me, grandma, I've been awake ever sinceyou came home. I did not mean to leave the dining room in suchdisorder, but I was so tired, and we had such fun! Hear me out, " shecontinued, laying her hand over the mouth of her grandmother, whoattempted to speak; "Mrs. Jeffrey told you how Mr. Warner broke hisleg, and was brought here. He is a real nice young man, and so is Mr. Douglas, who came out to see him. They are partners in the firm ofDouglas & Co. , Worcester. "

"Henry Warner is nothing but the Co. , though; Mr. Douglas owns thestore, and is worth two hundred thousand dollars!" cried a smotheredvoice under the bed; and Theo emerged into view, with a feather ortwo ornamenting her hair, and herself looking a little uneasy andfrightened. 

The two hundred thousand dollars produced a magical effect upon theold lady, exonerating George Douglas at once from all blame. Buttowards Henry Warner she was not thus lenient; for, coward-like, Theocharged him with having suggested everything, even to the cutting upof the ancestral red coat for Freedom's banner!

"What!" fairly screamed Madam Conway, who in her hasty glance at theflag had not observed the material; "not taken my grandfather's coatfor a banner!"

"Yes, he did, " said Theo, "and Maggie cut up your blue satin bodicefor stars, and took one of your fine linen sheets for the foundation. "

"The wretch!" exclaimed Madam Conway, stamping her foot in her wrath, and thinking only of Henry Warner; "I'll turn him from my doorinstantly. My blue satin bodice, indeed!"

"'Twas I, grandma--'twas I, " interrupted Maggie, looking reproachfullyat Theo. "'Twas I who cut up the bodice. I who brought down thescarlet coat. "

"And I didn't do a thing but look on, " said Theo. "I knew you'd beangry, and I tried to make Maggie behave, but she wouldn't. "

"I don't know as it is anything to you what Maggie does, and I thinkit would look quite as well in you to take part of the blame yourself, instead of putting it all upon your sister, " was Madam Conway's reply;and, feeling almost as deeply injured as Mrs. Jeffrey herself, Theobegan to cry, while Maggie, with a few masterly strokes, succeededin so far appeasing the anger of her grandmother that the good ladyconsented for the young gentlemen to stay to breakfast, saying, though, that "they should decamp immediately after, and never darkenher doors again. "

"But Mr. Douglas is rich, " sobbed Theo from behind her pockethandkerchief--"immensely rich, and of a very aristocratic family, I'msure, else where did he get his money?"

This remark was timely, and when fifteen minutes later Madam Conwaywas presented to the gentlemen in the hall her manner was far moregracious towards George Douglas than it was towards Henry Warner, towhom she merely nodded, deigning no answer whatever to his politeapology for having made himself so much at home in her house. Theexpression of his mouth was as usual against him, and, fancying heintended adding insult to injury by laughing in her face, she coollyturned her back upon him ere he had finished speaking, and walkeddownstairs, leaving him to wind up his speech with "an oldshe-dragon"!

By this time both the sun and the servants had arisen, the formershining into the disorderly dining room, and disclosing to the latterthe weary, jaded Anna, who, while Madam Conway was exploring thehouse, had thrown herself upon the lounge and had fallen asleep. 

"Who is she, and where did she come from?" was anxiously inquired, and they were about going in quest of Margaret when their mistressappeared suddenly in their midst, and their noisy demonstrations ofjoyful surprise awoke the sleeping girl, who, rubbing her red eyelids, asked for her aunt, and why she did not come to meet her. 

"She has been a little excited, and forgot you, perhaps, " answeredMadam Conway, at the same time bidding one of the servants to show theyoung lady to Mrs. Jeffrey's room. 

The good lady had recovered her composure somewhat, and was justwondering why her niece had not come with Madam Conway, as hadbeen arranged, when Anna appeared, and in her delight at once morebeholding a child of her only sister, and her husband's brother, sheforgot in a measure how injured she had felt. Ere long the breakfastbell rang; but Anna declared herself too weary to go down, and as Mrs. Jeffrey felt that she could not yet meet Madam Conway face to face, they both remained in their room, Anna again falling away to sleep, while her aunt, grown more calm, sought, and this time found, comfortin her favorite volume. Very cool, indeed, was that breakfast, partaken in almost unbroken silence below. The toast was cold, thesteak was cold, the coffee was cold, and frosty as an icicle was thelady who sat where the merry Maggie had heretofore presided. Scarcelya word was spoken by anyone; but in the laughing eyes of Maggie therewas a world of fun, to which the mischievous mouth of Henry Warnerresponded by a curl exceedingly annoying to his stately hostess, who, in passing him his coffee, turned her head in another direction lestshe should be too civil!

Breakfast being over, George Douglas, who began to understand MadamConway tolerably well, asked of her a private interview, which wasgranted, when he conciliated her first by apologizing for anythingungentlemanly he might have done in her house, and startled her nextby asking for Theo as his wife. 

"You can, " said he, "easily ascertain my character and standing inWorcester, where for the last ten years I have been known first asclerk, then as junior partner, and finally as proprietor of the largeestablishment which I now conduct. "

Madam Conway was at first too astonished to speak. Had it been Maggiefor whom he asked, the matter would have been decided at once, for Maggie was her pet, her pride, the intended bride of ArthurCarrollton; but Theo was a different creature altogether, andthough the Conway blood flowing in her veins entitled her to muchconsideration, she was neither showy nor brilliant, and if she couldmarry two hundred thousand dollars, even though it were American coin, she would perhaps be doing quite as well as could be expected. SoMadam Conway replied at last that she would consider the matter, and if she found that Theo's feelings were fully enlisted she wouldperhaps return a favorable answer. "I know the firm of Douglas & Co. By reputation, " said she, "and I know it to be a wealthy firm; butwith me family is quite as important as money. "

"My family, madam, are certainly respectable, " interrupted GeorgeDouglas, a deep flush overspreading his face. 

He was indignant at her presuming to question his respectability, Madam Conway thought, and so she hastened to appease him by saying:"Certainly, I have no doubt of it. There are marks by which I canalways tell. "

George Douglas bowed low to the far-seeing lady, while a train ofthought, not altogether complimentary to her discernment in this case, passed through his mind. 

Not thus lenient would Madam Conway have been towards Henry Warner hadhe presumed to ask her that morning for Maggie, but he knew betterthan to broach the subject then. He would write her, he said, immediately after his return to Worcester, and in the meantime Maggie, if she saw proper, was to prepare her grandmother for it by herselfannouncing the engagement. This, and much more, he said to Maggie asthey sat together in the library, so much absorbed in each other asnot to observe the approach of Madam Conway, who entered the door justin time to see Henry Warner with his arm around Maggie's waist. Shewas a woman of bitter prejudices, and had conceived a violent dislikefor Henry, not only on account of the "Stars and Stripes, " but becauseshe read to a certain extent the true state of affairs. Her suspicionswere now confirmed, and rapidly crossing the floor she confronted him, saying, "Let my granddaughter alone, young man, both now and forever. "

Something of Hagar's fiery spirit flashed from Maggie's dark eyes, butforcing down her anger she answered half earnestly, half playfully, "Iam nearly old enough, grandma, to decide that matter for myself. "

A fierce expression of scorn passed over Madam Conway's face, andharsh words might have ensued had not the carriage at that moment beenannounced. Wringing Maggie's hand, Henry arose and left the room, followed by the indignant lady, who would willingly have suffered himto walk; but thinking two hundred thousand dollars quite too muchmoney to go on foot, she had ordered her carriage, and both the seniorand junior partner of Douglas & Co. Were ere long riding a second timeaway from the old house by the mill. 

CHAPTER XII. 

THE WATERS ARE TROUBLED. 

"Grandma wishes to see you, Maggie, in her room, " said Theo to hersister one morning, three days after the departure of their guests. 

"Wishes to see me! For what?" asked Maggie; and Theo answered, "Idon't know, unless it is to talk with you about Arthur Carrollton. "

"Arthur Carrollton!" repeated Maggie. "Much good it will do her totalk to me of him. I hate the very sound of his name;" and, rising, she walked slowly to her grandmother's room, where in her stiff brownsatin dress, her golden spectacles planted firmly upon her nose, andthe Valenciennes border of her cap shading but not concealing thedetermined look on her face, Madam Conway sat erect in her high-backedchair, with an open letter upon her lap. 

It was from Henry. Maggie knew his handwriting in a moment, and therewas another too for her; but she was too proud to ask for it, and, seating herself by the window, she waited for her grandmother to breakthe silence, which she did ere long as follows:

"I have just received a letter from that Warner, asking me to sanctionan engagement which he says exists between himself and you. Is ittrue? Are you engaged to him?"

"I am, " answered Maggie, playing nervously with the tassel of herwrapper, and wondering why Henry had written so soon, before she hadprepared the way by a little judicious coaxing. 

"Well, then, " continued Madam Conway, "the sooner it is broken thebetter. I am astonished that you should stoop to such an act, and Ihope you are not in earnest. "

"But I am, " answered Maggie; and in the same cold, decided manner hergrandmother continued: "Then nothing remains for me but to forbid yourhaving any communication whatever with one whose conduct in my househas been so unpardonably rude and vulgar. You will never marry him, Margaret, never! Nay, I would sooner see you dead than the wife ofthat low, mean, impertinent fellow!"

In the large dark eyes there was a gleam decidedly "Hagarish" asMaggie arose, and, standing before her grandmother, made answer: "Youmust not, in my presence, speak thus of Henry Warner. He is neitherlow, mean, vulgar, nor impertinent. You are prejudiced against himbecause you think him comparatively poor, and because he has daredto look at me, who have yet to understand why the fact of my being aConway makes me any better. I have promised to be Henry Warner's wife, and Margaret Miller never yet has broken her word. "

"But in this instance you will, " said Madam Conway, now thoroughlyaroused. "I will never suffer it; and to prove I am in earnest I willhere, before your face, burn the letter he has presumed to send you;and this I will do to any others which may come to you from him. "

Maggie offered no remonstrance; but the fire of a volcano burnedwithin, as she watched the letter blackening upon the coals; and whennext her eyes met those of her grandmother there was in them a fierce, determined look which prompted that lady at once to change her tacticsand try the power of persuasion rather than of force. Feigning asmile, she said: "What ails you, child? You look to me like Hagar. Itwas wrong in me, perhaps, to burn your letter, and had I reflected amoment I might not have done it; but I cannot suffer you to receiveany more. I have other prospects in view for you, and have only waiteda favorable opportunity to tell you what they are. Sit down by me, Margaret, while I talk with you on the subject. "

The burning of her letter had affected Margaret strangely, and with abenumbed feeling at her heart she sat down without a word and listenedpatiently to praises long and praises loud of Arthur Carrollton, whowas described as being every way desirable, both as a friend and ahusband. "His father, the elder Mr. Carrollton, was an intimate friendof my husband, " said Madam Conway, "and wishes our families to be moreclosely united, by a marriage between you and his son Arthur, who israther fastidious in his taste, and though twenty-eight years old hasnever yet seen a face which suited him. But he is pleased with you, Maggie. He liked your picture, imperfect as it is, and he liked thetone of your letters, which I read to him. They were so original, he said, so much like what he fancied you to be. He has a splendidcountry seat, and more than one nobleman's daughter would gladly shareit with him; but I think he fancies you. He has a large estate nearMontreal, and some difficulty connected with it will ere long bringhim to America. Of course he will visit here, and with a little tacton your part you can, I'm sure, secure one of the best matches inEngland. He is fine-looking, too. I have his daguerreotype;" andopening her workbox she drew it forth and held it before Maggie, whoresolutely shut her eyes lest she should see the face of one she wasso determined to dislike. 

"What do you think of him?" asked Madam Conway as her arm began toache, and Maggie had not yet spoken. 

"I haven't looked at him, " answered Maggie; "I hate him, and if hecomes here after me I'll tell him so, too. I hate him because he isan Englishman. I hate him because he is aristocratic. I hate him foreverything, and before I marry him I'll run away!"

Here, wholly overcome, Maggie burst into tears, and precipitately leftthe room. An hour later, and Hagar, sitting by her fire, which thecoolness of the day rendered necessary, was startled by the abruptentrance of Maggie, who, throwing herself upon the floor, and buryingher face in the old woman's lap, sobbed bitterly. 

"What is it, child? What is it, darling?" asked Hagar; and in afew words Maggie explained the whole. "I am persecuted, dreadfullypersecuted! Nobody before ever had so much trouble as I. Grandmahas burned a letter from Henry Warner, and would not give it to me. Grandma said, too, I should never marry him, should never write tohim, nor see anything he might send to me. Oh, Hagar, Hagar, isn'tit cruel?" and the eyes, whose wrathful, defiant expression was nowquenched in tears, looked up in Hagar's face for sympathy. 

The right chord was touched, and much as Hagar might have dislikedHenry Warner she was his fast friend now. Her mistress' opposition andMaggie's tears had wrought a change, and henceforth all her energiesshould be given to the advancement of the young couple's cause. 

"I can manage it, " she said, smoothing the long silken tresses whichlay in disorder upon her lap. "Richland post office is only four milesfrom here; I can walk double that distance easy. Your grandmothernever thinks of going there, neither am I known to anyone in thatneighborhood. Write your letter to Henry Warner, and before the sungoes down it shall be safe in the letter-box. He can write to thesame place, but he had better direct to me, as your name might excitesuspicion. "

This plan seemed perfectly feasible; but it struck Maggieunpleasantly. She had never attempted to deceive in her life, and sheshrunk from the first deception. She would rather, she said, try againto win her grandmother's consent. But this she found impossible; MadamConway was determined, and would not listen. 

"It grieves me sorely, " she said, "thus to cross my favorite child, whom I love better than my life; but it is for her good, and must bedone. "

So she wrote a cold and rather insulting letter to Henry Warner, bidding him, as she had done before, "let her granddaughter alone, "and saying it was useless for him to attempt anything secret, forMaggie would be closely watched, the moment there were indications ofa clandestine correspondence. 

This letter, which was read to Margaret, destroyed all hope, andstill she wavered, uncertain whether it would be right to deceive hergrandmother. But while she was yet undecided, Hagar's fingers, of lateunused to the pen, traced a few lines to Henry Warner, who, acting atonce upon her suggestion, wrote to Margaret a letter which he directedto "Hagar Warren, Richland. "

In it he urged so many reasons why Maggie should avail herself of thisopportunity for communicating with him that she yielded at last, andregularly each week old Hagar toiled through sunshine and throughstorm to the Richland post office, feeling amply repaid for hertrouble when she saw the bright expectant face which almost alwaysgreeted her return. Occasionally, by way of lulling the suspicions ofMadam Conway, Henry would direct a letter to Hillsdale, knowing fullwell it would never meet the eyes of Margaret, over whom, for the timebeing, a spy had been set, in the person of Anna Jeffrey. 

This young lady, though but little connected with our story, mayperhaps deserve a brief notice. Older than either Theo or Margaret, she was neither remarkable for beauty nor talent. Dark-haired, dark-eyed, dark-browed, and, as the servants said, "dark in herdisposition, " she was naturally envious of those whose rank in lifeentitled them to more attention than she was herself accustomed toreceive. For this reason Maggie Miller had from the first been to heran object of dislike, and she was well pleased when Madam Conway, enjoining the strictest secrecy, appointed her to watch that younglady, and see that no letter was ever carried by her to the postoffice which Madam Conway had not first examined. In the snaky eyesthere was a look of exultation as Anna Jeffrey promised to be faithfulto her trust, and for a time she became literally Maggie Miller'sshadow, following her here, following her there, and following hereverywhere, until Maggie complained so bitterly of the annoyance thatMadam Conway at last, feeling tolerably sure that no counterplot wasintended, revoked her orders, and bade Anna Jeffrey leave Margaretfree to do as she pleased. 

Thus relieved from espionage, Maggie became a little more likeherself, though a sense of the injustice done her by her grandmother, together with the deception she knew she was practicing, wore uponher; and the servants at their work listened in vain for the merrylaugh they had loved so well to hear. In the present state ofMargaret's feelings Madam Conway deemed it prudent to say nothing ofArthur Carrollton, whose name was never mentioned save by Theo andAnna, the latter of whom had seen him in England, and was never sowell pleased as when talking of his fine country seat, his splendidpark, his handsome horses, and last, though not least, of himself. "Heis, " she said, "without exception, the most elegant and aristocraticyoung man I have ever seen;" and then for more than an hour she wouldentertain Theo with a repetition of the many agreeable things he hadsaid to her during the one day she had spent at his house while MadamConway was visiting there. 

In perfect indifference, Maggie, who was frequently present, wouldlisten to these stories, sometimes listlessly turning the leaves of abook, and again smiling scornfully as she thought how impossible itwas that the fastidious Arthur Carrolton should have been at allpleased with a girl like Anna Jeffrey; and positive as Maggie was thatshe hated him, she insensibly began to feel a very slight degree ofinterest in him; at least, she would like to know how he looked; andone day when her grandmother and Theo were riding she stole cautiouslyto the box where she knew his picture lay, and, taking it out, lookedto see if he were so very fine-looking. 

Yes, he was, --Maggie acknowledged that; and, sure that she hatedhim terribly, she lingered long over that picture, admiring theclassically shaped head, the finely cut mouth, and more than all thelarge dark eyes which seemed so full of goodness and truth. "Pshaw!"she exclaimed at last, restoring the picture to its place; "if Henrywere only a little taller, and had as handsome eyes, he'd be a greatdeal better-looking. Anyway, I like him, and I hate Arthur Carrollton, who I know is domineering, and would try to make me mind. He has askedfor my daguerreotype, grandma says--one which looks as I do now. I'llsend it too, " and she burst into a loud laugh at the novel idea whichhad crossed her mind. 

That day when Madam Conway returned from her ride she was surprised atMaggie's proposing that Theo and herself should have their likenessestaken for Arthur Carrollton. 

"If he wants my picture, " said she, "I am willing he shall have it. Itis all he'll ever get. "

Delighted at this unexpected concession, Madam Conway gave herconsent, and the next afternoon found Theo and Maggie at thedaguerrean gallery in Hillsdale, where the latter astonished both hersister and the artist by declaring her intention of not only sittingwith her bonnet and shawl on; but also of turning her back to theinstrument! It was in vain that Theo remonstrated! "That position ornone, " she said; and the picture was accordingly taken, presentinga very correct likeness, when finished, of a bonnet, a veil, and ashawl, beneath which Maggie Miller was supposed to be. 

Strange as it may seem, this freak struck Madam Conway favorably. Arthur Carrollton knew that Maggie was unlike any other person, andthe joke, she thought, would increase, rather than diminish, theinterest he already felt in her. So she made no objection, and in afew days it was on its way to England, together with a lock of Hagar'ssnow-white hair, which Maggie had coaxed from the old lady, and, unknown to her grandmother, placed in the casing at the last moment. 

Several weeks passed away, and then there came an answer--a letter sofull of wit and humor that Maggie confessed to herself that he mustbe very clever to write so many shrewd things and to be withal soperfectly refined. Accompanying the package was a small rosewood box, containing a most exquisite little pin made of Hagar's frosty hair, and richly ornamented with gold. Not a word was written concerningit, and as Maggie kept her own counsel, both Theo and her grandmothermarveled greatly, admiring its beauty and wondering for whom it wasintended. 

"For me, of course, " said Madam Conway. "The hair is LadyCarrollton's, Arthur's grandmother. I know it by its soft, silky look. She has sent it as a token of respect, for she was always fond of me;"and going to the glass she very complacently ornamented her Honitoncollar with Hagar's hair, while Maggie, bursting with fun, beat ahasty retreat from the room, lest she should betray herself. 

Thus the winter passed away, and early in the spring George Douglas, to whom Madam Conway had long ago sent a favorable answer, came tovisit his betrothed, bringing to Maggie a note from Rose, who had onceor twice sent messages in Henry's letters. She was in Worcester now, and her health was very delicate. "Sometimes, " she wrote, "I fearI shall never see you, Maggie Miller--shall never look into yourbeautiful face, or listen to your voice; but whether in heaven or onearth I am first to meet with you, my heart claims you as a sister, the one whom of all the sisters in the world I would rather call myown. "

"Darling Rose!" murmured Maggie, pressing the delicately traced linesto her lips, "how near she seems to me! nearer almost than Theo;" andthen involuntarily her thoughts went backward to the night when HenryWarner first told her of his love, and when in her dreams there hadbeen a strange blending together of herself, of Rose, and the littlegrave beneath the pine!

But not yet was that veil of mystery to be lifted. Hagar's secret mustbe kept a little longer; and, unsuspicious of the truth, Maggie Millermust dream on of sweet Rose Warner, whom she hopes one day to call hersister!

There was also a message from Henry, and this George Douglas deliveredin secret, for he did not care to displease his grandmother-elect, whoviewing him through a golden setting, thought he was not to be equaledby anyone in America. "So gentlemanly, " she said, "and so modest too, "basing her last conclusion upon his evident unwillingness to sayvery much of himself or his family. Concerning the latter she hadquestioned him in vain, eliciting nothing save the fact that theylived in the country several miles from Worcester, and that his fatheralways stayed at home, and consequently his mother went but littleinto society. 

"Despises the vulgar herd, I dare say, " thought Madam Conway, contemplating the pleasure she should undoubtedly derive from anacquaintance with Mrs. Douglas, senior!

"There was a sister, too, " he said, and at this announcement Theoopened wide her blue eyes, asking her name, and why he had nevermentioned her before. 

"I call her Jenny, " said he, coloring slightly, and adding playfully, as he caressed Theo's smooth, round cheek, "Wives do not usually liketheir husbands' sisters. "

"But I shall like her, I know, " said Theo. "She has a beautiful name, Jenny Douglas--much prettier than Rose Warner, about whom Maggie talksto me so much. "

A gathering frown on her grandmother's face warned Theo that she hadtouched upon a forbidden subject, and as Mr. Douglas manifested nodesire to continue the conversation it ceased for a time, Theo wishingshe could see Jenny Douglas, and George wondering what she would saywhen she did see her!

For a few days longer he lingered, and ere his return it was arrangedthat early in July Theo should be his bride. On the morning of hisdeparture, as he stood upon the steps alone with Madam Conway, shesaid, "I think I can rely upon you, Mr. Douglas, not to carry eitherletter, note, or message from Maggie to that young Warner. I'veforbidden him in my house, and I mean what I say. "

"I assure you, madam, she has not asked me to carry either, "answered George; who, though he knew perfectly well of the secretcorrespondence, had kept it to himself. "You mistake Mr. Warner, Ithink, " he continued, after a moment. "I have known him long, andesteem him highly. "

"Tastes differ, " returned Madam Conway coldly. "No man of goodbreeding would presume to cut up my grandfather's coat or drink up mybest wine. "

"He intended no disrespect, I'm sure, " answered George. "He onlywanted a little fun with the 'Stars and Stripes. '"

"It was fun for which he will pay most dearly, though, " answered MadamConway, as she bade Mr. Douglas good-by; then, walking back to theparlor, she continued speaking to herself: "'Stars and Stripes'!I'll teach him to cut up my blue bodice for fun. I wouldn't give himMargaret if his life depended upon it;" and sitting down she wrote toArthur Carrollton, asking if he really intended visiting America, andwhen. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

SOCIETY. 

During the remainder of the spring matters at the old stone houseproceeded about as usual, Maggie writing regularly to Henry, who asregularly answered, while old Hagar managed it so adroitly that no onesuspected the secret correspondence, and Madam Conway began to hopeher granddaughter had forgotten the foolish fancy. Arthur Carrolltonhad replied that his visit to America, though sure to take place, waspostponed indefinitely, and so the good lady had nothing in particularwith which to busy herself, save the preparations for Theo's wedding, which was to take place near the first of July. 

Though setting a high value upon money, Madam Conway was notpenurious, and the bridal trousseau far exceeded anything which Theohad expected. As the young couple were not to keep house for a time, amost elegant suite of rooms had been selected in a fashionable hotel;and determining that Theo should not, in point of dress, be rivaled byany of her fellow-boarders, Madam Conway spared neither time normoney in making the outfit perfect. So for weeks the old stone housepresented a scene of great confusion. Chairs, tables, lounges, and piano were piled with finery, on which Anna Jeffrey workedindustriously, assisted sometimes by her aunt, whom Madam Conwaypronounced altogether too superannuated for a governess, and who, though really an excellent scholar, was herself far better pleasedwith muslin robes and satin bows than with French idioms and Latinverbs. Perfectly delighted, Maggie joined in the general excitement, wondering occasionally when and where her own bridal would be. Onceshe ventured to ask if Henry Warner and his sister might be invited toTheo's wedding; but Madam Conway answered so decidedly in the negativethat she gave it up, consoling herself with thinking that she wouldsome time visit her sister, and see Henry in spite of her grandmother. 

The marriage was very quiet, for Madam Conway had no acquaintance, andthe family alone witnessed the ceremony. At first Madam Conway hadhoped that Mr. And Mrs. Douglas, senior, together with their daughterJenny, would be present, and she had accordingly requested George toinvite them, feeling greatly disappointed when she learned that theycould not come. 

"I wanted so much to see them, " she said to Maggie, "and know whetherthey are worthy to be related to the Conways--but of course they are, as much so as any American family. George has every appearance ofrefinement and high-breeding. "

"But his family, for all that, may be as ignorant as FarmerCanfield's, " answered Maggie; to which her grandmother replied: "Youneedn't tell me that, for I'm not to be deceived in such matters. Ican tell at a glance if a person is low-born, no matter what theireducation or advantages may have been. Who's that?" she added quickly, and turning round she saw old Hagar, her eyes lighted up and her lipsmoving with incoherent sounds. 

Hagar had come up to the wedding, and had reached the door of MadamConway's room just in time to hear the last remark, which roused herat once. 

"Why don't she discover my secret, then, " she muttered, "if she has somuch discernment? Why don't she see the Hagar blood in her? for it'sthere, plain as day;" and she glanced proudly at Maggie, who, in hersimple robe of white, was far more beautiful than the bride. 

And still Theo, in her handsome traveling dress, was very fair to lookupon, and George Douglas felt proud that she was his, resolving, as hekissed away the tears she shed at parting, that the vow he had justmade should never be broken. A few weeks of pleasant travel westward, and then the newly wedded pair came back to what, for a time, was tobe their home. 

George Douglas was highly respected in Worcester, both as a man ofhonor and a man of wealth; consequently, every possible attention waspaid to Theo, who was petted and admired, until she began to wonderwhy neither Maggie nor yet her all-discerning grandmother haddiscovered how charming and faultless she was!

Among George's acquaintance was a Mrs. Morton, a dashing, fashionablewoman, who determined to honor the bride with a party, to which allthe elite of Worcester were invited, together with many Bostonians. Madam Conway and Maggie were of course upon the list; and, as timelynotice was given them by Theo, Madam Conway went twice to Springfieldin quest of a suitable dress for Maggie. She wanted somethingbecoming, she said; and a delicate rose-colored satin, with a handsomeoverskirt of lace, was at last decided upon. 

"She must have some pearls for her hair, " thought Madam Conway; andwhen next Maggie, who, girl-like, tried the effect of her first partydress at least a dozen times, stood before the glass to see if it wereexactly the right length, she was presented with the pearls, whichAnna Jeffrey, with a feeling of envy at her heart, arranged in theshining braids of her hair. 

"Oh, isn't it perfectly splendid!" cried Maggie, herself half inclinedto compliment the beautiful image reflected in the mirror. 

"You ought to see Arthur Carrollton's sister when she is dressed, ifyou think you look handsome, " answered Anna, adding that diamonds weremuch more fashionable than pearls. 

"You have attended a great many parties and seen a great deal offashion, so I dare say you are right, " Maggie answered ironically; andthen, as through the open window she saw Hagar approaching, she ranout upon the _piazza_, to see what the old woman would say. 

Hagar had never seen her thus before, and now, throwing up her handsin astonishment, she involuntarily dropped upon her knees, and, while the tears rained over her timeworn face, whispered, "Hester'schild--my granddaughter--Heaven be praised!"

"Do I look pretty?" Margaret asked; and Hagar answered: "Morebeautiful than anyone I ever saw. I wish your mother could see younow. "

Involuntarily Maggie glanced at the tall marble gleaming throughthe distant trees, while Hagar's thoughts were down in that othergrave--the grave beneath the pine. The next day was the party, andat an early hour Madam Conway was ready. Her rich purple satin andValenciennes laces, with which she hoped to impress Mrs. Douglas, senior, were carefully packed up, together with Maggie's dress; andthen, shawled and bonneted, she waited impatiently for her carriage, which she preferred to the cars. It came at last, but in place ofJohn, the usual coachman, Mike, a rather wild youth of twenty, wasmounted upon the box. His father, he said, had been taken suddenlyill, and had deputized him to drive. 

For a time Madam Conway hesitated, for she knew Mike's one greatfailing, and she hardly dared risk herself with him, lest she shouldfind a seat less desirable even than the memorable brush-heap. ButMike protested loudly to having joined the "Sons of Temperance" onlythe night before, and as in his new suit of blue, with shining brassbuttons, he presented a more stylish appearance than his father, hismistress finally decided to try him, threatening all manner of evil ifin any way he broke his pledge, either to herself or the "Sons, " thelatter of whom had probably never heard of him. He was perfectlysober now, and drove them safely to Worcester, where they soon foundthemselves in Theo's handsome rooms. Her wrappings removed and herselfsnugly ensconced in a velvet-cushioned chair, Madam Conway asked theyoung bride how long before Mrs. Douglas, senior, would probablyarrive. 

A slight shadow, which no one observed, passed over Theo's face as sheanswered, "George's father seldom goes into society, and consequentlyhis mother will not come. "

"Oh, I am so sorry!" replied Madam Conway, thinking of the purplesatin, and continuing, "Nor the young lady, either?"

"None of them, " answered Theo, adding hastily, as if to change theconversation, "Isn't my piano perfectly elegant?" and she ran herfingers over an exquisitely carved instrument, which had inscribedupon it simply "Theo"; and then, as young brides sometimes will, she expatiated upon the kindness and generosity of George, showing, withal, that her love for her husband was founded upon something farmore substantial than family or wealth. 

Her own happiness, it would seem, had rendered her less selfish andmore thoughtful for others; for once that afternoon, on returning toher room after a brief absence, she whispered to Maggie that "someonein the parlor below wished to see her. "

Then seating herself at her grandmother's feet, she entertained her sowell with a description of her travels that the good lady failed toobserve the absence of Maggie, who, face to face with Henry Warner, was making amends for their long separation. Much they talked of thepast, and then Henry spoke of the future; but of this Maggie was lesshopeful. Her grandmother would never consent to their marriage, sheknew--the "Stars and Stripes" had decided that matter, even thoughthere were no Arthur Carrollton across the sea, and Maggie sigheddespondingly as she thought of the long years of single-blessedness instore for her. 

"There is but one alternative left, then, " said Henry. "If yourgrandmother refuses her consent altogether, I must take you withouther consent. "

"I shan't run away, " said Maggie; "I shall live an old maid, and youmust live an old bachelor, until grandma--"

She did not have time to finish the sentence ere Henry commencedunfolding the following plan:

"It is necessary, " he said, "for either myself or Mr. Douglas to goto Cuba; and as Rose's health makes a change of climate advisable forher, George has proposed to me to go and take my sister there for thewinter. And, Maggie, " he continued, "will you go, too? We are to sailthe middle of October, stopping for a few weeks in Florida, until theunhealthy season in Havana is passed. I will see your grandmotherto-morrow morning--will once more honorably ask her for your hand, andif she still refuses, as you think she will, it cannot surely be wrongin you to consult your own happiness instead of her prejudices. I willmeet you at old Hagar's cabin at the time appointed. Rose and my aunt, who is to accompany her, will be in New York, whither we will goimmediately. A few moments more and you will be my wife, and beyondthe control of your grandmother. Do you approve my plan, Maggie, darling? Will you go?"

Maggie could not answer him then, for an elopement was somethingfrom which she instinctively shrunk, and with a faint hope that hergrandmother might consent she went back to her sister's room, whereshe had not yet been missed. Very rapidly the remainder of theafternoon passed away, and at an early hour, wishing to know "exactlyhow she was going to look, " Maggie commenced her toilet. Theo, too, desirous of displaying her white satin as long as possible, began todress; while Madam Conway, in no haste to don her purple satin, whichwas uncomfortably tight, amused herself by watching the passers-by, nodding at intervals, in her chair. 

While thus occupied, a perfumed note was brought to her, the contentsof which elicited from her an exclamation of surprise. 

"Can it be possible!" she said; and thrusting the note into her pocketshe hastily left the room. 

She was gone a long, long time; and when at last she returned, she wasevidently much excited, paying no attention whatever to Theo, who, inher bridal robes, looked charming, but minutely inspecting Maggie, tosee if in her adornings there was aught out of its place. Her dresswas faultless, and she looked so radiantly beautiful, as she stoodbefore her grandmother, that the old lady kissed her fondly, whispering, as she did so, "You are indeed beautiful!" It was a longtime ere Madam Conway commenced her own toilet, and then she proceededso slowly that George Douglas became impatient, and she finallysuggested that he and Theo should go without her, sending the carriageback for herself and Maggie. To this proposition he at last yielded;and when they were left alone Madam Conway greatly accelerated hermovements, dressing herself in a few moments, and then, much toMaggie's surprise, going below without a word of explanation. A fewmoments only elapsed ere a servant was sent to Maggie, saying that herpresence was desired at No. 40, a small private parlor adjoining thepublic drawing rooms. 

"What can it mean? Is it possible that Henry is there?" Maggie askedherself, as with a beating heart she descended the stairs. 

A moment more, and Maggie stood on the threshhold of No. 40. Seatedupon the sofa was Madam Conway, her purple satin seeming to havetaken a wide sweep, and her face betokening the immense degree ofsatisfaction she felt in being there with the stylish, elegant-lookingstranger who stood at her side, with his deep, expressive eyes fixedupon the door expectantly. Maggie knew him in a moment--knew it wasArthur Carrollton; and, turning pale, she started backward, while headvanced forward, and, offering her his hand, looked down upon herwith a winning smile, saying, as he did so: "Excuse my familiarity. You are Maggie Miller, I am sure. "

For an instant Maggie could not reply, but soon becoming composedshe received the stranger gracefully, and then taking the chair hepolitely brought her she listened while her grandmother told thathe had arrived at Montreal two weeks before; that he had reachedHillsdale that morning, an hour or two after their departure, and, learning their destination, had followed them in the cars; that shehad taken the liberty of informing Mrs. Morton of his arrival, andthat lady had of course extended to him an invitation to be present ather party. 

"Which invitation I accept, provided Miss Maggie allows me to be herescort, " said the young man, and again his large black eyes restedadmiringly upon her. 

Maggie had anticipated a long, quiet talk with Henry Warner, and, wishing the Englishman anywhere but there, she answered coldly, "Icannot well decline your escort, Mr. Carrollton, so of course I acceptit. "

Madam Conway bit her lip, but Mr. Carrollton, who was prepared foranything from Maggie Miller, was not in the least displeased, and, consulting his diamond-set watch, which pointed to nearly ten, heasked if it were not time to go. 

"Certainly, " said Madam Conway. "You remain here, Maggie; I will bringdown your shawl, " and she glided from the room, leaving them purposelyalone. 

Maggie was a good deal astonished, slightly embarrassed, and a littleprovoked, all of which Arthur Carrollton readily saw; but this didnot prevent his talking to her, and during the few minutes of MadamConway's absence he decided that neither Margaret's beauty, nor yether originality, had been overrated by her partial grandmother, whileMaggie, on her part, mentally pronounced him "the finest-looking, themost refined, the most gentlemanly, the proudest, and the hatefulestman she had ever seen!"

Wholly unconscious of her cogitation, he wrapped her shawl verycarefully about her, taking care to cover her white shoulders from thenight air; then offering his arm to her grandmother, he led the way tothe carriage, whither she followed him, wondering if Henry would bejealous, and thinking her first act would be to tell him how she hatedArthur Carrollton, and always should!

 * * * * *

It was a gay, brilliant scene which Mrs. Morton's drawing roompresented; and, as yet the center of attraction, Theo, near the door, was bowing to the many strangers who sought her acquaintance. Greatlyshe marveled at the long delay of her grandmother and Maggie, and shehad just suggested to Henry that he should go in quest of them, whenshe saw her sister ascending the stairs. 

On a sofa across the room sat a pale young girl arrayed in white, hersilken curls falling around her neck like a golden shower, and hermournful eyes of blue scanning eagerly each newcomer, then a look ofdisappointment drooping beneath the long lashes which rested wearilyupon her colorless cheek. It was Rose Warner, and the face she soughtwas Maggie Miller's. She had seen no semblance of it yet, for Henryhad no daguerreotype. Still, she felt sure she would know it, and whenat last, in all her queenly beauty, Maggie came, leaning on ArthurCarrollton's arm, Rose's heart made ready answer to the oft-repeatedquestion, "Who is she?"

"Beautiful, gloriously beautiful!" she whispered softly, while fromthe grave of her buried hopes there came one wild heart-throb, onesudden burst of pain caused by the first sight of her rival, and thenRose Warner grew calm again, and those who saw the pressure of herhand upon her side dreamed not of the fierce pang within. She hadasked her brother not to tell Maggie she was to be there. She wouldrather watch her a while, herself unknown; and now with eager, curiouseyes she followed Maggie, who was quickly surrounded by a host ofadmirers. 

It was Maggie's first introduction into society, and yet so perfectwas her intuition of what was proper that neither by word or deed didshe do aught to shock the most fastidious. It is true her merry laughmore than once rang out above the din of voices; but it was so joyousthat no one objected, particularly when they looked in her bright andalmost childish face. Arthur Carrollton, too, acting as her escort, aided her materially, for it was soon whispered around that he was awealthy Englishman, and many were the comments made upon the handsomecouple, who seemed singularly adapted to each other. A glance hadconvinced Arthur Carrollton that Maggie was by far the most beautifullady present, and feeling that on this her first introduction intosociety she needed someone to shield her, as it were, from the manyfoolish, flattering speeches which were sure to be made in herhearing, he kept her at his side, where she was nothing loath to stay;for, notwithstanding that she "hated" him so, there was about him afascination she did not try to resist. 

"They are a splendid couple, " thought Rose, and then she looked to seehow Henry was affected by the attentions of the handsome foreigner. 

But Henry was not jealous; and, standing a little aloof, he felt morepleasure than pain in watching Maggie as she received the homage ofthe gay throng. Thoughts similar to those of Rose, however, forcedthemselves upon him as he saw the dignified bearing of Mr. Carrollton, and for the first time in his life he was conscious of anuncomfortable feeling of inferiority to some thing or some body, hehardly knew what. This feeling, however, passed away when Maggie cameat last to his side, with her winning smile and playful words. 

Very closely Madam Conway watched her now; but Maggie did not heed it, and leaning on Henry's arm she seemed oblivious to all save him. After a time he led her out upon a side piazza, where they would becomparatively alone. Observing that she seemed a little chilly, heleft her for a moment while he went in quest of her shawl. Scarcelywas he gone when a slight, fairy form came flitting through themoonlight to where Maggie sat, and, twining its snow-white arms aroundher neck, looked lovingly into her eyes, whispering soft and low, "Mysister!"

"My sister!" How Maggie's blood bounded at the sound of that name, which even the night wind, sighing through the trees, seemed to takeup and repeat. "My sister!" What was there in those words thus toaffect her? Was that fair young creature, who hung so fondly over her, naught to her save a common stranger? Was there no tie between them, no bond of sympathy and love? We ask this of you, our reader, and notof Maggie Miller, for to her there came no questioning like this. Sheonly knew that every pulsation of her heart responded to the name ofsister, when breathed by sweet Rose Warner, and, folding her armsabout her, she pillowed the golden head upon her bosom, and, pushingback the clustering curls, gazed long and earnestly into a face whichseemed so heavenly and pure. 

Few were the words they uttered at first, for a mysterious, invisiblesomething prompted each to look into the other's eyes, to clasp theother's hands, to kiss the other's lips, and lovingly to whisper theother's name. 

"I have wished so much to see you, to know if you are worthy of mynoble brother, " said Rose at last, thinking she must say something onthe subject uppermost in both their minds. 

"And am I worthy?" asked Maggie, the bright blushes stealing over hercheek. "Will you let me be your sister?"

"My heart would claim you for that, even though I had no brother, "answered Rose, and again her lips touched those of Maggie. 

Seeing them thus together, Henry tarried purposely a long time, andwhen at last he rejoined them he proposed returning to the drawingroom, where many inquiries were making for Maggie. 

"I have looked for you a long time, Miss Maggie, " said Mr. Carrollton. "I wish to hear you play;" and, taking her arm in his, he led her tothe piano. 

From the moment of her first introduction to him Maggie had felt thatthere was something commanding in his manner, something she could notdisobey; and now, though she fancied it was impossible to play beforethat multitude, she seated herself mechanically, and while the keysswam before her eyes, went through with a difficult piece which shehad never but once before executed correctly. 

"You have done well; much better than I anticipated, " said Mr. Carrollton, again offering her his arm; and though a little vexed, those few words of commendation were worth more to Maggie than themost flattering speech which Henry Warner had ever made to her. 

Soon after leaving the piano a young man approached and invited her towaltz. This was something in which Maggie excelled; for two wintersbefore Madam Conway had hired a teacher to instruct her granddaughtersin dancing, and she was about to accept the invitation, when, drawingher arm still closer within his own, Mr. Carrollton looked down uponher, saying softly, "I wouldn't. "

Maggie had often waltzed with Henry at home. He saw no harm in it, andnow when Arthur Carrollton objected, she was provoked, while at thesame time she felt constrained to decline. 

"Some time, when I know you better, I will explain to you why I donot think it proper for young girls to waltz with everyone, " said Mr. Carrollton; and, leading her from the drawing room, he devoted himselfto her for the remainder of the evening, making himself so perfectlyagreeable that Maggie forgot everything, even Henry Warner, who inthe meantime had tried to obtain recognition from Madam Conway as anacquaintance. 

A cool nod, however, was all the token of recognition she had to givehim. This state of feeling augured ill for the success of his suit;but when at a late hour that night, in spite of grandmother orEnglishman, he handed Maggie to the carriage, he whispered to hersoftly, "I will see her to-morrow morning, and know the worst. "

The words caught the quick ear of Madam Conway; but, not wishingMr. Carrollton to know there was anything particular between hergranddaughter and Henry Warner, she said nothing, and when, arrived atlast at the hotel, she asked an explanation, Maggie, who hurried offto bed, was too sleepy to give her any answer. 

"I shall know before long, anyway, if he sees me in the morning, " shethought, as she heard a distant clock strike two, and settling herface into the withering frown with which she intended to annihilateHenry Warner, the old lady was herself ere long much faster asleepthan the young girl at her side, who was thinking of Henry Warner, wishing he was three inches taller, or herself three inches shorter, and wondering if his square shoulders would not be somewhat improvedby braces!

"I never noticed how short and crooked he was, " she thought, "until Isaw him standing by the side of Mr. Carrollton, who is such a splendidfigure, so tall and straight; but big, overgrown girls like me alwaysget short husbands, they say;" and satisfied with this conclusion shefell asleep. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

MADAM CONWAY'S DISASTERS. 

At a comparatively early hour Madam Conway arose, and going to theparlor found there Arthur Carrollton, who asked if Margaret were notyet up. "Say that I wish her to ride with me on horseback, " said he. "The morning air will do her good;" and, quite delighted, Madam Conwaycarried the message to her granddaughter. 

"Tell him I shan't do it, " answered the sleepy Maggie, adjustingherself for another nap. Then, as she thought how his eyes probablylooked as he said, "I wish her to ride, " she felt impelled to obey, and greatly to her grandmother's surprise she commenced dressing. 

Theo's riding dress was borrowed, and though it did not fit herexactly she looked unusually well when she met Mr. Carrollton in thelower hall, and once mounted upon the gay steed, and galloping awayinto the country, she felt more than repaid for the loss of hermorning slumber. 

"You ride well, " said Mr. Carrollton, when at last they paused uponthe brow of a hill overlooking the town, "but you have some faultswhich, with your permission, I will correct, " and in the most politeand gentlemanly manner he proceeded to speak of a few points whereinher riding might be improved. 

Among other things, he said she rode too fast for a lady; and, bitingher lip, Maggie thought, "If I only had Gritty here, I'd lead him sucha race as would either break his bones or his neck, I'm not particularwhich. "

Still, she followed his directions implicitly, and when, ere theyreached home, he told her that she excelled many who had been foryears to riding schools, she felt repaid for his criticisms, which sheknew were just, even if they were not agreeable. Breakfast being over, he announced his intention of going down to Boston, telling Maggie heshould probably return that evening and go with her to Hillsdale onthe morrow. 

Scarcely had he gone when Henry Warner appeared, asking an interviewwith Madam Conway, who haughtily led the way into a private room. Verycandidly and honorably Henry made known to her his wishes, whereupona most stormy scene ensued, the lady so far forgetting herself as toraise her voice several notes above its usual pitch, while Henry, angered by her insulting words, bade her take the consequences of herrefusal, hinting that girls had been known to marry without theirguardian's consent. 

"An elopement, hey? He threatens me with an elopement, does he?" saidMadam Conway, as the door closed after him. "I am glad he warned mein time, " and then, trembling in every limb lest Maggie should bespirited away before her very eyes, she determined upon going homeimmediately and leaving Arthur Carrollton to follow in the cars. 

Accordingly, Maggie was bidden to pack her things at once, the excitedold lady keeping her eye constantly upon her to see that she didnot disappear through the window or some other improbable place. Insilence Maggie obeyed, pouting the while a very little, partly becauseshe should not again see Henry, partly because she had confidentlyexpected to ride home with Mr. Carrollton, and partly because shewished to stay to the firemen's muster, which had long been talkedabout, and was to take place on the morrow. They were ready at last, and then in a very perturbed state of feeling Madam Conway waitedfor her carriage, which was not forthcoming, and upon inquiry GeorgeDouglas learned that, having counted upon another day in the city, Mike was now going through with a series of plunge-baths, by way ofsobering himself ere appearing before his mistress. This, however, George kept from Madam Conway, not wishing to alarm her; and whenafter a time Mike appeared, sitting bolt upright upon the box, withthe lines grasped firmly in his hands, she did not suspect the truth, nor know that he too was angry for being thus compelled to go homebefore he saw the firemen. 

Thinking him sober enough to be perfectly safe, George Douglas felt nofear, and, bowing to his new relatives, went back to comfort Theo, whoas a matter of course cried a little when the carriage drove away. Worcester was left behind, and they were far out in the country erea word was exchanged between Madam Conway and Maggie; for while thelatter was pouting behind her veil, the former was wondering whatpossessed Mike to drive into every rut and over every stone. 

"You, Mike!" she exclaimed at last, leaning from the window. "Whatails you?"

"Nothing, as I'm a living man, " answered Mike, halting so suddenly asto jerk the lady backwards and mash the crown of her bonnet. 

Straightening herself up, and trying in vain to smooth the jam, MadamConway continued: "In liquor, I know. I wish I had stayed home. " ButMike loudly denied the charge, declaring he had spent the blessednight at a meeting of the "Sons, " where they passed around nothingstronger than lemons and water, and if the horses chose to run off thetrack it wasn't his fault--he couldn't help it; and with the air ofone deeply injured he again started forward, turning off ere long intoa cross road, which, as they advanced, grew more stony and rough, while the farmhouses, as a general thing, presented a far lessrespectable appearance than those on the Hillsdale route. 

"Mike, you villain!" ejaculated the lady, as they ran down into aditch, and she sprang to one side to keep the carriage from goingover. 

But ere she had time for anything further, one of the axletreessnapped asunder, and to proceed further in their present condition wasimpossible. Alighting from the carriage, and setting her little feetupon the ground with a vengeance, Madam Conway first scolded Mikeunmercifully for his carelessness, and next chided Maggie formanifesting no more concern. 

"You'd as lief go to destruction as not, I do believe!" said she, looking carefully after the bandbox containing her purple satin. 

"I'd rather go there first, " answered Maggie, pointing to a brownold-fashioned farmhouse about a quarter of a mile away. 

At first Madam Conway objected, saying she preferred sitting on thebank to intruding herself upon strangers; but as it was now noonday, and the warm September sun poured fiercely down upon her, she finallyconcluded to follow Maggie's advice, and gathering up her box andparasol started for the house, which, with its tansy patch on theright, and its single poplar tree in front, presented rather anuninviting appearance. 

"Some vulgar creatures live there, I know. Just hear that old tinhorn!" she exclaimed, as a blast, loud and shrill, blown by practicedlips, told the men in a distant field that dinner was ready. 

A nearer approach disclosed to view a slanting-roofed farmhouse suchas is often found in New England, with high, narrow windows, smallpanes of glass, and the most indispensable paper curtains of blueclosely shading the windows of what was probably the "best room. " Inthe apartment opposite, however, they were rolled up, so as to showthe old-fashioned drapery of dimity, bordered with a netted fringe. Half a dozen broken pitchers and pots held geraniums, verbenas, andother plants, while the well-kept beds of hollyhocks, sunflowers, andpoppies indicated a taste for flowers in someone. Everything aboutthe house was faultlessly neat. The doorsill was scrubbed to a chalkywhite, while the uncovered floor wore the same polished hue. 

All this Madam Conway saw at a glance, but it did not prevent herfrom holding high her aristocratic skirts, lest they should becontaminated, and when, in answer to her knock, an odd-looking, peculiarly dressed woman appeared, she uttered an exclamation ofdisgust, and, turning to Maggie, said, "You talk--I can't!"

But the woman did not stand at all upon ceremony. For the last tenminutes she had been watching the strangers as they toiled over thesandy road, and when sure they were coming there had retreated intoher bedroom, donning a flaming red calico, which, guiltless of hoops, clung to her tenaciously, showing her form to good advantage, androusing at once the risibility of Maggie. A black lace cap, ornamentedwith ribbons of the same fanciful color as the dress, adorned herhead; and, with a dozen or more pins in her mouth, she now appeared, hooking her sleeve and smoothing down the black collar upon her neck. 

In a few words Maggie explained to her their misfortune, and askedpermission to tarry there until the carriage was repaired. 

"Certing, certing, " answered the woman, courtesying almost to thefloor. "Walk right in, if you can git in. It's my cheese day, or Ishould have been cleared away sooner. Here, Betsy Jane, you haveprinked long enough; come and hist the winders in t'other room, andwing 'em off, so the ladies can set in there out of this dirty place;"then turning to Madam Conway, who was industriously freeing herFrench kids from the sand they had accumulated during her walk, shecontinued, "Have some of my shoes to rest your feet a spell"; anddiving into a recess or closet she brought forth a pair of slipperslarge enough to hold both of Madam Conway's feet at once. 

With a haughty frown the lady declined the offer, while Maggie lookedon in delight, pleased with an adventure which promised so much fun. After a moment Betsy Jane appeared, attired in a dress similar to thatof her mother, for whose lank appearance she made ample amends, in thewonderful expansion of her robes, which, minus gather or fold at thebottom, set out like a miniature tent, upsetting at once the bandbox, which Madam Conway had placed upon a chair, and which, with itscontents, rolled promiscuously over the floor!

"Betsy Jane! How can you wear them abominable things!" exclaimed thedistressed woman, stooping to pick up the purple satin which hadtumbled out. 

A look from the more fashionable daughter, as with a swinging sweepshe passed on into the parlor, silenced the mother on the subject ofhoops, and thinking her guests must necessarily be thirsty after theirwalk she brought them a pitcher of water, asking if they'd "chuse itclear, or with a little ginger and molasses, " at the same time callingto Betsy Jane to know if them windows was "wung" off!

The answer was in the affirmative, whereupon the ladies were invitedto enter, which they did the more willingly as through the open doorthey had caught glimpses of what proved to be a very handsome Brusselscarpet, which in that room seemed a little out of place, as did thesofa, and handsome haircloth rocking-chair. In this last Madam Conwayseated herself, while Maggie reclined upon a lounge, wondering at thedifference in the various articles of furniture, some of which werequite expensive, while others were of the most common kind. 

"Who can they be? She looks like someone I have seen, " said Maggie asBetsy Jane left the room. "I mean to ask their names;" but this hergrandmother would not suffer. "It was too much like familiarity, " shesaid, "and she did not believe in putting one's self on a level withsuch people. "

Another loud blast from the horn was blown, for the bustling woman ofthe house was evidently getting uneasy, and ere long three or four menappeared, washing themselves from the spout of the pump, and wipingupon a coarse towel which hung upon a roller near the back door. 

"I shan't eat at the same table with those creatures, " said MadamConway, feeling intuitively that she would be invited to dinner. 

"Why, grandma, yes you will, if she asks you, " answered Maggie. "Onlythink how kind they are to us--perfect strangers!"

What else she might have said was prevented by the entrance of BetsyJane, who informed them that dinner was ready, and with a mentalgroan, as she thought how she was about to be martyred, Madam Conwayfollowed her to the dining room, where a plain, substantial farmer'smeal was spread. Standing at the head of the table, with hergood-humored face all in a glow, was the hostess, who, pointing MadamConway to? chair, said: "Now set right by, and make yourselves to hum. Mebby I or to have set the table over, and I guess I should if I hadanything fit to eat. Be you fond of biled victuals?" and taking it forgranted they were, she loaded both Madam Conway's and Maggie's platewith every variety of vegetables used in the preparation of the dishknown everywhere as "boiled victuals. "

By this time the men had ranged themselves in respectful silence uponthe opposite side of the table, each stealing an admiring thoughmodest glance at Maggie; for the masculine heart, whether it beatsbeneath a homespun frock or coat of finest cloth, is alike susceptibleto glowing, youthful beauty like that of Maggie Miller. The head ofthe house was absent--"had gone to town with a load of wood, " so hisspouse informed the ladies, at the same time pouring out a cup of tea, which she said she had tried to make strong enough to bear up an egg. "Betsy Jane, " she continued, casting a deprecating glance, first atthe blue sugar bowl and then at her daughter, "what possessed you toput on this brown sugar, when I told you to get crush? Have some ofthe apple sass? It's new--made this morning. Dew have some, " shecontinued, as Madam Conway shook her head. "Mebby it's better thanit looks. Seem's ef you wan't goin' to eat nothin'. Betsy Jane, now you're up after the crush, fetch them china sassers for thecowcumbers. Like enough she'll eat some of them. "

But, affecting a headache, Madam Conway declined everything savethe green tea and a Boston cracker, which, at the first mention ofheadache, the distressed woman had brought her. Suddenly rememberingMike, who, having fixed the carriage, was fast asleep on a wheelbarrowunder the woodshed, she exclaimed: "For the land of massy, if I hain'tforgot that young gentleman! Go, William, and call him this minute. Are you sick at your stomach?" she asked, turning to Madam Conway, who at the thought of eating with her drunken coachman had utteredan exclamation of disgust. "Go, Betsy Jane, and fetch the camphire, quick!"

But Madam Conway did not need the camphor, and so she said, addingthat Mike was better where he was. Mike thought so too, and refusedto come, whereupon the woman insisted that he must. "There was roomenough, " she said, "and no kind of sense in Betsy Jane's taking up thehull side of the table with them rattans. She could set nearer theyoung lady. "

"Certainly, " answered Maggie, anxious to see how the "rattans" wouldmanage to squeeze in between herself and the table-leg, as they wouldhave to do if they came an inch nearer. 

This feat could not be done, and in attempting it Betsy Jane upsetMaggie's tea upon her handsome traveling dress, eliciting from hermother the exclamation, "Betsy Jane Douglas, you allus was theblunderin'est girl!"

This little accident diverted the woman's mind from Mike, whileMadam Conway, starting at the name of Douglas, thought to herself:"Douglas!--Douglas! I did not suppose 'twas so common a name. But thenit don't hurt George any, having these creatures bear his name. "

Dinner being over, Madam Conway and Maggie returned to the parlor, where, while the former resumed her chair, the latter amused herselfby examining the books and odd-looking daguerreotypes which lay uponthe table. 

"Oh, grandmother!" she almost screamed, bounding to that lady'sside, "as I live, here's a picture of Theo and George Douglas takentogether, " and she held up a handsome casing before the astonishedold lady, who, donning her golden spectacles in a twinkling, saw forherself that what Maggie said was true. 

"They stole it!" she gasped. "We are in a den of thieves! Who knowswhat they'll take from my bandbox?" and she was about to leave theroom when Maggie, whose quick mind saw farther ahead, bade her stop. 

"I may discover something more, " said she, and taking up a handsomelybound volume of Lamb, she turned to the fly-leaf, and read, "JennyDouglas, from her brother George, Worcester, January 8. "

It was plain to her now; but any mortification she might otherwisehave experienced was lost in the one absorbing thought, "What willgrandma say?"

"Grandmother, " said she, showing the book, "don't you remember themother of that girl called her Betsy Jane Douglas?"

"Yes, yes!" gasped Madam Conway, raising both hands, while anexpression of deep, intense anxiety was visible upon her face. 

"And don't you know, too, " continued Maggie, "that George alwaysseemed inclined to say as little as possible of his parents? Now, inthis country it is not unusual for the sons of just such people asthese to be among the most wealthy and respectable citizens. "

"Maggie, Maggie!" hoarsely whispered Madam Conway, grasping Maggie'sarm, "do you mean to insinuate--am I to understand that you believethat odious woman and hideous girl to be the mother and sister ofGeorge Douglas?"

"I haven't a doubt of it, " answered Maggie. "'Twas the resemblancebetween Betsy Jane and George which I observed at first. "

Out of her chair to the floor tumbled Madam Conway, fainting entirelyaway, while Maggie, stepping to the door, called for help. 

"I mistrusted she was awful sick at dinner, " said Mrs. Douglas, takingher hands from the dish-water, and running to the parlor. "I wishshe'd smelt of the camphire, as I wanted her to do. Does she have suchspells often?"

By this time Betsy Jane brought a basin of water, which she dashed inthe face of the unconscious woman, who soon began to revive. 

"Pennyr'yal tea'll settle her stomach quicker'n anything else, " saidMrs. Douglas. "I'll clap a little right on the stove;" and, helpingMadam Conway to the sofa, she left the room. 

"There may possibly be a mistake, after all, " thought Maggie. "I'llquestion the girl;" and, turning to Betsy Jane, she said, taking upthe book which had before attracted her attention, "Is this 'JennyDouglas' intended for you?"

"Yes, ma'am, " answered the girl, coloring slightly. "Brother Georgecalls me Jenny, because he thinks Betsy so old-fashioned. "

An audible groan from the sofa, and Maggie continued, "Where does yourbrother live?"

"In Worcester, ma'am. He keeps a store there, " answered Betsy, who wasgoing to say more, when her mother, re-entering the room, took up theconversation by saying, "Was you tellin' 'em about George Washington?Waal, he's a boy no mother need to be ashamed on, though my old mansometimes says he's ashamed of us, we are so different. But, then, heorto consider the advantages he's had. We only brung him up till hewas ten years old, and then an uncle he was named after took himand gin him a college schoolin', and then put him into his store inWorcester. Your head aches wus, don't it? Poor thing! The pennyr'yalwill be steeped directly, " she added, in an aside to Madam Conway, who had groaned aloud as if in pain. Then resuming her story, shecontinued, "Better'n six year ago Uncle George, who was a bachelor, died, leaving the heft of his property, seventy-five thousand dollarsor more, to my son, who is now top of the heap in the store, and worthone hundred thousand dollars, I presume; some say two hundred thousanddollars; but that's the way some folks have of agitatin' things. "

"Is he married?" asked Maggie, and Mrs. Douglas, mistaking the motivewhich prompted the question, answered: "Yes, dear, he is. If he wan't, I know of no darter-in-law I'd as soon have as you. I don't believe infinding fault with my son's wife; but there's a proud look in herface I don't like. This is her picter, " and she passed to Maggie thedaguerreotype of Theo. 

"I've looked at it before, " said Maggie; and the good woman proceeded:"I hain't seen her yet; but he's going to bring her to Charltonbime-by. He's a good boy, George is, free as water--gave me thiscarpet, the sofy and chair, and has paid Betsy Jane's schoolin' onewinter at Leicester. But Betsy don't take to books much. She's morelike me, her father says. They had a big party for George last night, but I wan't invited. Shouldn't 'a' gone if I had been; but for allthat a body don't want to be slighted, even if they don't belong tothe quality. If I'm good enough to be George's mother I'm good enoughto go to a party with his wife. But she wan't to blame, and I shan'tlay it up against her. I shall see her to-morrow, pretty likely, forSam Babbit's wife and I are goin' down to the firemen's muster. You'veheard on't, I suppose. The different engines are goin' to see whichwill shute water the highest over a 180-foot pole. I wouldn't missgoin' for anything, and of course I shall call on Theodoshy. Icalkerlate to like her, and when they go to housekeepin' I've got ahull chest full of sheets and piller-biers and towels I'm goin' togive her, besides three or four bedquilts I pieced myself, two inherrin'-bone pattern, and one in risin' sun. I'll show 'em to you, "and leaving the room, she soon returned with three patchworkquilts, wherein were all possible shades of color, red and yellowpredominating, and in one the "rising sun" forming a huge centerpiece. 

"Heavens!" faintly articulated Madam Conway, pressing her hands uponher head, which was supposed to be aching dreadfully. The thought ofTheo reposing beneath the "risin' sun, " or yet the "herrin'-bone, " wasintolerable; and looking beseechingly at Maggie, she whispered, "Dosee if Mike is ready. "

"If it's the carriage you mean, " chimed in Mrs. Douglas, "it's beenwaiting quite a spell, but I thought you warn't fit to ride yet, so Ididn't tell you. "

Starting to her feet, Madam Conway's bonnet went on in a trice, andtaking her shawl in her hand she walked outdoors, barely expressingher thanks to Mrs. Douglas, who, greatly distressed at her abruptdeparture, ran for the herb tea, and taking the tin cup in her handfollowed her guest to the carriage, urging her to "take a swaller justto keep from vomiting. "

"She is better without it, " said Maggie. "She seldom takes medicine, "and politely expressing her gratitude to Mrs. Douglas for her kindnessshe bade Mike drive on. 

"Some crazy critter just out of the asylum, I'll bet, " said Mrs. Douglas, walking back to the house with her pennyroyal tea. "How queershe acted! but that girl's a lady, every inch of her, and so handsometoo--I wonder who she is?"

"Don't you believe the old woman felt a little above us?" suggestedBetsy Jane, who had more discernment than her mother. 

"Like enough she did, though I never thought on't. But she needn't. I'm as good as she is, and I'll warrant as much thought on, where I'mknown;" and quite satisfied with her own position, Mrs. Douglas wentback to her dish-washing, while Betsy Jane stole away upstairs totry the experiment of arranging her hair after the fashion in whichMargaret wore hers. 

In the meantime Mike, perfectly sobered, had turned his horses' headsin the direction of Hillsdale, when Madam Conway called out, "ToWorcester, Mike--to Worcester, as fast as you can drive. "

"To Worcester! For what?" asked Maggie, and the excited womananswered: "To stop it! To forbid the banns! I should think you'd askfor what!"

"To stop it, " repeated Maggie. "I'd like to see you stop it, whenthey've been married two months!"

"So they have! so they have!" said Madam Conway, wringing her handsin her despair, and crying out that a Conway should be so disgraced. "What shall I do? What shall I do?"

"Make the best of it, of course, " answered Maggie. "I don't seethat George is any worse for his parentage. He is evidently greatlyrespected in Worcester, where his family are undoubtedly known. He iseducated and refined, if they are not. Theo loves him, and that issufficient, unless I add that he has money. "

"But not as much as I supposed, " moaned Madam Conway. "Theo told metwo hundred thousand dollars; but that woman said one. Oh, what willbecome of me! Give me the hartshorn, Maggie. I feel so faint!"

The hartshorn was handed her, but it could not quiet her distress. Her family pride was sorely wounded, and had Theo been dead she wouldhardly have felt worse than she did. 

"How will she bear it when it comes to her knowledge, as itnecessarily must? It will kill her, I know!" she exclaimed, afterMaggie had exhausted all her powers of reasoning in vain; then, asshe remembered the woman's avowed intention of visiting herdaughter-in-law on the morrow, she felt that she must turn back; shemust see Theo and break it to her gently, or the first sight of thatodious creature, claiming her for a daughter, might be of incalculableinjury. 

"Stop, Mike, " she was about to say; but ere the words passed her lipsshe reflected that to take Maggie back to Worcester was to throw heragain in Henry Warner's way, and this she could not do. There wasbut one alternative. She could stop at the Charlton depot, not fardistant, and wait for the downward train, while Mike drove Maggiehome; and this she resolved to do. Mike was accordingly bidden to takeher at once to the depot, which he did, while she explained to Maggieher reason for returning. 

"Theo is much better alone, and George will not thank you forinterfering, " said Maggie, not at all pleased with her grandmother'sproceedings. 

But the old lady was determined. It was her duty, she said, to standby Theo in trouble; and if a visit from that horrid creature wasn'ttrouble, she could not well define it. 

"When will you come home?" asked Maggie. 

"Not before to-morrow night. Now I have undertaken the matter, Iintend to see it through, " said Madam Conway, referring to theexpected visit of Mrs. Douglas, senior. 

But Mike did not thus understand it, and thinking her only object inturning back was to "see the doin's, " as he designated the firemen'smuster, he muttered long and loud about being thus sent home while hismistress went to see the fun. 

In the meantime, on a hard settee, at the rather uncomfortable depot, Madam Conway awaited the arrival of the train, which came at last, and in a short time she found herself again in Worcester. Once ina carriage, and on her way to the "Bay State, " she began to feel alittle nervous, half wishing she had followed Maggie's advice, andleft Theo alone. But it could not now be helped, and while trying tothink what she should say to her astonished granddaughter she was setdown at the door of the hotel, slightly bewildered and a good dealperplexed, a feeling which was by no means diminished when she learnedthat Mr. And Mrs. Douglas were both out of town. 

"Where have they gone, and when will they return?" she gasped, untyingher bonnet strings for easier respiration. 

To these queries the clerk, replied that he believed Mr. Douglas hadgone to Boston on business, that he might be home that night; at allevents, he would probably return in the morning; she could find Mr. Warner, who would tell her all about it. "Shall I send for him?" hecontinued, as he saw the scowl upon her face. 

"Certainly not, " she answered; and taking the key, which had been leftin his charge, she repaired to Theo's rooms, and sinking into a largeeasy-chair fanned herself furiously, wondering if they would returnthat night, and what they would say when they found her there. "But Idon't care, " she continued, speaking aloud and shaking her head verydecidedly at the excited woman whose image was reflected by the mirroropposite, and who shook her head as decidedly in return. "GeorgeDouglas has deceived us shamefully, and I'll tell him so, too. I wishhe'd come this minute!"

But George Douglas knew well what he was doing. Very gradually was heimparting to Theo a knowledge of his parents, and Theo, who reallyloved her husband, was learning to prize him for himself, and not forhis family. Feeling certain that the firemen's muster would bring hismother to town, and knowing that Theo was not yet prepared to see her, he was greatly relieved at Madam Conway's sudden departure, and hadhimself purposely left home, with the intention of staying away untilFriday night. This, however, Madam Conway did not know, and veryimpatiently she awaited his coming, until the lateness of the hourprecluded the possibility of his arrival, and she retired to bed, but not to sleep, for the city was full of firemen, and one company, failing of finding lodgings elsewhere, had taken refuge in anempty carriage-shop near by. The hard, bare floor was not the mostcomfortable bed imaginable, and preferring the bright moonlight andopen air they made the night hideous with their noisy shouts, whichthe watchmen tried in vain to hush. To sleep in that neighborhood wasimpossible, and all night long Madam Conway vibrated between her bedand the window, from which latter point she frowned wrathfully downupon the red coats below, who, scoffing alike at law and order asdispensed by the police, kept up their noisy revel, shouting lustilyfor "Chelsea, No. 4" and "Washington, No. 2, " until the dawn of day. 

"I wish to mercy I'd gone home!" sighed Madam Conway, as weak andfaint she crept down to the breakfast table, doing but little justiceto anything, and returning to her room pale, haggard, and weary. 

Ere long, however, she became interested in watching the crowds ofpeople who at an early hour filled the streets; and when at last thedifferent fire companies of the State paraded the town, in a seeminglynever-ending procession, she forgot in a measure her trouble, anddrawing her chair to the window sat down to enjoy the brilliant scene, involuntarily nodding her head to the stirring music, as company aftercompany passed. Up and down the street, far as the eye could reach, the sidewalks were crowded with men, women, and children, all eagerto see the sight. There were people from the city and people from thecountry, the latter of whom, having anticipated the day for weeks andmonths, were now unquestionably enjoying it to the last degree. 

Conspicuous among these was a middle-aged woman, who elicited remarksfrom all who beheld her, both from the peculiarity of her dress andthe huge blue cotton umbrella she persisted in hoisting, to the greatannoyance of those in whose faces it was thrust, and who forgot in ameasure their vexation when they read the novel device it bore. Likemany other people, who can sympathize with the good woman, shewas always losing her umbrella, and at last, in self-defense, hadembroidered upon the blue in letters of white:

 "Steal me not, for fear of shame. For here you see my owner's name:

 "CHARITY DOUGLAS. "

As the lettering was small and not very distinct, it required aclose observation to decipher it; but the plan was a successful one, nevertheless, and for four long years the blue umbrella had done goodservice to its mistress, shielding her alike from sunshine and fromstorm, and now in the crowded city it performed a double part, preventing those standing near from seeing, while at the same time itkept the dust from settling on the thick green veil and leghorn bonnetof its owner. At Betsy Jane's suggestion she wore a hoop to-day onTheo's account, and that she was painfully conscious of the fact wasproved by the many anxious glances she cast at her chocolate-coloredmuslin, through the thin folds of which it was plainly visible. 

"I wish I had left the pesky thing to hum, " she thought, feelinggreatly relieved when at last, as the crowd became greater, it wasbroken in several pieces and ceased to do its duty. 

From her seat near the window Madam Conway caught sight of theumbrella as it swayed up and down amid the multitude, but she had nosuspicion that she who bore it thus aloft had even a better rightthan herself to sit where she was sitting. In her excitement she hadforgotten Mrs. Douglas' intended visit, to prepare Theo for which shehad returned to Worcester, but it came to her at length, when, asthe last fire company passed, the blue umbrella was closed, and theleghorn bonnet turned in the direction of the hotel. There was nomistaking the broad, good-humored face which looked so eagerly up at"George's window, " and involuntarily Madam Conway glanced under thebed with the view of fleeing thither for refuge!

"What shall I do?" she cried, as she heard the umbrella on the stairs. "I'll lock her out, " she continued; and in an instant the key was inher pocket, while, trembling in every limb, she awaited the result. 

Nearer and nearer the footsteps came; there was a knock upon the door, succeeded by a louder one, and then, as both these failed to elicit aresponse, the handle of the umbrella was vigorously applied. But allin vain, and Madam Conway heard the discomfited outsider say, "Theytold me Theodoshy's grandmarm was here, but I guess she's in thestreet. I'll come agin bime-by, " and Mrs. Douglas, senior, walkeddisconsolately down the stairs, while Madam Conway thought it doubtfulwhether she gained access to the room that day, come as often as shemight. 

Not long after, the gong sounded for dinner, and unlocking the doorMadam Conway was about descending to the dining room, when the thoughtburst upon her: "What if she should be at the table! It's just likeher. "

The very idea was overwhelming, taking from her at once all desire fordinner; and returning to her room she tried, by looking over the booksand examining the carpet, to forget how hungry and faint she was. Whether she would have succeeded is doubtful, had not an hour or twolater brought another knock from the umbrella, and driven all thoughtsof eating from her mind. In grim silence she waited until hertormentor was gone, and then wondering if it was not time for thetrain she consulted her watch. But alas! 'twas only four; the cars didnot leave until six; and so another weary hour went by. At the end ofthat time, however, thinking the depot preferable to being a prisonerthere, she resolved to go; and leaving the key with the clerk, shecalled a carriage and was soon on her way to the cars. 

As she approached the depot she observed an immense crowd of peoplegathered together, among which the red coats of the firemen wereconspicuous. A fight was evidently in progress, and as the horsesbegan to grow restive she begged of the driver to let her alight, saying she could easily walk the remainder of the way. Scarcely, however, was she on terra-firma when the yelling crowd made aprecipitate rush towards her, and in much alarm she climbed for safetyinto an empty buggy, whereupon the horse, equally alarmed, began torear, and without pausing an instant the terrified lady sprang out onthe side opposite to that by which she had entered, catching her dressupon the seat, and tearing half the gathers from the waist. 

"Heaven help me!" she cried, picking herself up, and beginning to wishshe had never troubled herself with Theo's mother-in-law. 

To reach the depot was now her great object, and, as the twobelligerent parties occupied the front, she thought to effect anentrance at the rear. But the doors were locked, and as she turned thecorner of the building she suddenly found herself in the thickest ofthe fight. To advance was impossible, to turn back equally so, andwhile meditating some means of escape she lost her footing and fellacross a wheelbarrow which stood upon the platform, crumpling herbonnet, and scratching her face upon a nail which protruded from thevehicle. Nearer dead than alive, she made her way at last into thedepot, and from thence into the cars, where, sinking into a seat, anddrawing her shawl closely around her, the better to conceal thesad condition of her dress, she indulged in meditations not whollycomplimentary to firemen in general and her late comrades inparticular. 

For half an hour she waited impatiently, but though the cars werefilling rapidly there were no indications of starting; and it wasalmost seven ere the long and heavily loaded train moved slowly fromthe depot. About fifteen minutes previous to their departure, as MadamConway was looking ruefully out upon the multitude, she was horrifiedat seeing directly beneath her window the veritable woman from whom, through the entire day, she had been hiding. Involuntarily she glancedat the vacant seat in front of her, which, as she feared, was soonoccupied by Mrs. Douglas and her companion, who, as Madam Conwaydivined, was "Sam Babbit's wife. "

Trembling nervously lest she should be discovered, she drew her veilclosely over her face, keeping very quiet, and looking intently fromthe window into the gathering darkness without. But her fears weregroundless, for Mrs. Douglas had no suspicion that the crumpled bonnetand sorry figure, sitting so disconsolately in the corner, was thesame which but the day before had honored her with a call. She was inhigh spirits, having had, as she informed her neighbor, "a tip-toptime. " On one point, however, she was disappointed. She meant as muchas could be to have seen "Theodoshy, " but she "wan't to hum. " "Hergrandmarm was in town, " said she, "but if she was in the room she musthave been asleep, or dreadful deaf, for I pounded with all my might. I'm sorry, for I'd like to scrape acquaintance with her, bein' we'reconnected. "

An audible groan came from beneath the thick brown veil, whereuponboth ladies turned their heads. But the indignant woman made no sign;and, in a whisper loud enough for Madam Conway to hear, Mrs. Douglassaid, "Some Irish critter in liquor, I presume. Look at her jammedbonnet. "

This remark drew from Mrs. Babbit a very close inspection of theveiled figure, who, smothering her wrath, felt greatly relieved whenthe train started and prevented her from hearing anything more. At thenext station, however, Mrs. Douglas showed her companion a crochetcollar, which she had purchased for two shillings, and which, shesaid, was almost exactly like the one worn by the woman who stopped ather house the day before. 

Leaning forward, Madam Conway glanced contemptuously at the coarseknit thing, which bore about the same resemblance to her own handsomecollar as cambric does to satin. 

"Vulgar, ignorant creatures!" she muttered, while Mrs. Babbit, afterduly praising the collar, proceeded to make some inquiries concerningthe strange lady who had shared Mrs. Douglas' hospitality. 

"I've no idee who she was, " said Mrs. Douglas; "but I think it's purtylikely she was some crazy critter they was takin' to the hospital. "

Another groan from beneath the brown veil, and turning around thekind-hearted Mrs. Douglas asked if she was sick, adding in an aside, as there came no answer, "Been fightin', I'll warrant!"

Fortunately for Madam Conway, the cars moved on, and when they stoppedagain, to her great relief, the owner of the blue umbrella, togetherwith "Sam Babbit's wife, " alighted, and amid the crowd assembled onthe platform she recognized Betsy Jane, who had come down to meet hermother. The remainder of the way seemed tedious enough, for the trainmoved but slowly, and it was near ten o'clock ere they reached theHillsdale station, where, to her great delight, Madam Conway foundMargaret awaiting her, together with Arthur Carrollton. The momentshe saw the former, who came eagerly forward to meet her, the weary, worn-out woman burst into tears; but at the sight of Mr. Carrolltonshe forced them back, saying, in reply to Maggie's inquiries, thatTheo was not at home, and that she had spent a dreadful day, and beenknocked down in a fight at the depot, in proof of which she pointedto her torn dress, her crumpled bonnet, and scratched face. Maggielaughed aloud in spite of herself, and though Mr. Carrollton's eyeswere several times turned reprovingly upon her she continued tolaugh at intervals at the sorry, forlorn appearance presented by hergrandmother, who for several days was confined to her bed from thecombined effects of fasting, fright, firemen's muster, and her lateencounter with Mrs. Douglas, senior!

CHAPTER XV. 

ARTHUR CARROLLTON AND MAGGIE. 

Mr. Carrollton had returned from Boston on Thursday afternoon, and, finding them all gone from the hotel, had come on to Hillsdale onthe evening train, surprising Maggie as she sat in the parlor alone, wishing herself in Worcester, or in some place where it was not aslonely as there. With his presence the loneliness disappeared, and inmaking his tea and listening to his agreeable conversation she forgoteverything, until, observing that she looked weary, he said: "Maggie, I would willingly talk to you all night, were it not for the badeffect it would have on you to-morrow. You must go to bed now, " and heshowed her his watch, which pointed to the hour of midnight. 

Exceedingly mortified, Maggie was leaving the room, when, noticing herevident chagrin, Mr. Carrollton came to her side, and laying his handvery respectfully on hers, said kindly: "It is my fault, Maggie, keeping you up so late, and I only send you away now because thoseeyes are growing heavy, and I know that you need rest. Good-night toyou, and pleasant dreams. "

He went with her to the door, watching her until she disappeared upthe stairs; then, half wishing he had not sent her from him, he toosought his chamber; but not to sleep, for Maggie, though absent, waswith him still in fancy. For more than a year he had been haunted by abright, sunshiny face, whose owner embodied the dashing, independentspirit and softer qualities which made Maggie Miller so attractive. Ofthis face he had often thought, wondering if the real would equal theideal, and now that he had met with her, had looked into her truthfuleyes, had gazed upon her sunny face, which mirrored faithfully everythought and feeling, he was more than satisfied, and to love thatbeautiful girl seemed to him an easy matter. She was so childlike, soartless, so different from anyone whom he had ever known, that he wasinterested in her at once. But Arthur Carrollton never did a thingprecipitately. She might have many glaring faults; he must see hermore, must know her better, ere he lavished upon her the love whosedeep fountains had never yet been stirred. 

After this manner he reasoned as he walked up and down his chamber, while Maggie, on her sleepless pillow, was thinking, too, of him, wondering if she did hate him as much as she intended, and if Henrywould be offended at her sitting up with him until after twelveo'clock. 

It was nearly half-past nine when Maggie awoke next morning, andmaking a hasty toilet she descended to the dining room, where shefound Mr. Carrollton awaiting her. He had been up a long time; butwhen Anna Jeffrey, blessed with an uncommon appetite, fretted at thedelay of breakfast, and suggested calling Margaret, he objected, saying she needed rest, and must not be disturbed. So, in something ofa pet, the young lady breakfasted alone with her aunt, Mr. Carrolltonpreferring to wait for Maggie. 

"I am sorry I kept you waiting, " said Maggie, seating herself at thetable and continuing to apologize for her tardiness. 

But Mr. Carrollton felt more than repaid by having her thus alone withhim, and many were the admiring glances he cast toward her, as, withher shining hair, her happy face, her tasteful morning gown of pink, and her beautiful white hands which handled so gracefully the silvercoffee-urn, she made a living, glowing picture such as any man mightdelight to look upon. Breakfast being over, Mr. Carrollton proposed aride, and as Anna Jeffrey at that moment entered the parlor he invitedher to accompany them. There was a shadow on Maggie's brow as she leftthe room to dress, a shadow which had not wholly disappeared when shereturned; and, observing this, Mr. Carrollton said, "Were I to consultmy own wishes, Maggie, I should leave Miss Jeffrey at home; but she isa poor girl whose enjoyments are far less than ours, consequently Iinvited her for this once, knowing how fond she is of riding. "

"How thoughtful you are of other people's happiness!" said Maggie, theshadow leaving her brow at once. 

"I am glad that wrinkle has gone, at all events, " returned Mr. Carrollton laughingly, and laying his hand upon her forehead hecontinued: "Were you my sister Helen I should probably kiss you forhaving so soon got over your pet; but as you are Maggie Miller, I darenot, " and he looked earnestly at her, to see if he had spoken thetruth. 

Coloring crimson, as it became the affianced bride of Henry Warner todo, Maggie turned away, thinking Helen must be a happy girl, andhalf wishing she too were Arthur Carrollton's sister. It was a long, delightful excursion they took, and Maggie, when she saw how AnnaJeffrey enjoyed it, did not altogether regret her presence. On theirway home she proposed calling upon Hagar, whom she had not seen for"three whole days. "

"And who, pray, is Hagar?" asked Mr. Carrollton; and Maggie replied, "She is my old nurse--a strange, crazy creature, whom they say Isomewhat resemble. "

By this time they were near the cottage, in the door of which oldHagar was standing, with her white hair falling round her face. 

"I see by your looks you don't care to call, but I shall, " saidMaggie; and, bounding from her saddle, she ran up to Hagar, pressingher hand and whispering that it would soon be time to hear from Henry. 

"Kissed her, I do believe!" said Anna Jeffrey. "She must haveadmirable taste!"

Mr. Carrollton said nothing, but with a half-comical, half-displeasedexpression he watched the interview between that weird old woman andthe fair young girl, little suspecting how nearly they were allied. 

"Why didn't you come and speak to her?" said Maggie, as he alighted toassist her in again mounting Gritty. "She used to see you in England, when you were a baby, and if you won't be angry I'll tell you what shesaid. It was that you were the crossest, ugliest young one she eversaw! There, there; don't set me down so hard!" and the saucy eyeslooked mischievously at the proud Englishman, who, truth to say, didplace her in the saddle with a little more force than was at allnecessary. 

Not that he was angry. He was only annoyed at what he consideredMaggie's undue familiarity with a person like Hagar, but he wiselyforbore making any comments in Anna Jeffrey's presence, except, indeed, to laugh heartily at Hagar's complimentary description ofhimself when a baby. Arrived at home, and alone again with Maggie, hefound her so very good-natured and agreeable that he could not chideher for anything, and Hagar was for a time forgotten. 

That evening, as the reader knows, they went together to the depot, where they waited four long hours, but not impatiently; for sittingthere in the moonlight, with the winding Chicopee full in view, andMargaret Miller at his side, Arthur Carrollton forgot the lapseof time, especially when Maggie, thinking it no harm, gave a mostludicrous description of her call upon Mrs. Douglas, senior, and ofher grandmother's distress at finding herself so nearly connected withwhat she termed "a low, vulgar family. "

Arthur Carrollton was very proud, and had Theo been his sister hemight to some extent have shared in Madam Conway's chagrin; and so hesaid to Maggie, at the same time fully agreeing with her that GeorgeDouglas was a refined, agreeable man, and as such entitled to respect. Still, had Theo known of his parentage, he said, it would probablyhave made some difference; but now that it could not be helped it waswise to make the best of it. 

These words were little heeded then by Maggie, but with most painfuldistinctness they recurred to her in the after time, when, humbled inthe very dust, she had no hope that the highborn, haughty Carrolltonwould stoop to a child of Hagar Warren! But no shadow of the darkfuture was over her now, and very eagerly she drank in every word andlook of Arthur Carrollton, who, all unconsciously, was trampling onanother's rights and gradually weakening the fancied love she bore forHenry Warner. 

The arrival of the train brought their pleasant conversation to aclose, and for a day or two Maggie's time was wholly occupied withher grandmother, to whom she frankly acknowledged having told Mr. Carrollton of Mrs. Douglas and her daughter Betsy Jane. The fact thathe knew of her disgrace and did not despise her was of great benefitto Madam Conway, and after a few days she resumed her usual spirits, and actually told of the remarks made by Mrs. Douglas concerningherself and the "fight" she had been in! As time passed on she becamereconciled to the Douglases, having, as she thought, some well-foundedreasons for believing that for Theo's disgrace Maggie would makeamends by marrying Mr. Carrollton, whose attentions each day becamemore and more marked, and were not apparently altogether disagreeableto Maggie. On the contrary, his presence at Hillsdale was productiveof much pleasure to her, as well as a little annoyance. 

From the first he seemed to exercise over her an influence she couldnot well resist--a power to make her do whatever he willed that sheshould do; and though she sometimes rebelled she was pretty sure inthe end to yield the contest, and submit to one who was evidentlythe ruling spirit. As yet nothing had been said of the hair ornamentwhich, out of compliment to him, her grandmother wore every morningin her collar, but at last one day Madam Conway spoke of it herself, asking if it were, as she had supposed, his grandmother's hair. 

"Why, no, " he answered involuntarily; "it is a lock Maggie sent me inthat wonderful daguerreotype!"

"The stupid thing!" thought Maggie, while her eyes fairly danced withmerriment as she anticipated the question she fancied was sure tofollow, but did not. 

One glance at her tell-tale face was sufficient for Madam Conway. Inher whole household there was but one head with locks as white asthat, and whatever her thoughts might have been, she said nothing, butfrom that day forth Hagar's hair was never again seen ornamenting herperson! That afternoon Mr. Carrollton and Maggie went out to ride, andin the course of their conversation he referred to the pin, askingwhose hair it was, and seeming much amused when told that it wasHagar's. 

"But why did you not tell her when it first came?" he said; and Maggieanswered: "Oh, it was such fun to see her sporting Hagar's hair, whenshe is so proud! It didn't hurt her either, for Hagar is as good asanybody. I don't believe in making such a difference because oneperson chances to be richer than another. "

"Neither do I, " returned Mr. Carrollton. "I would not esteem a personfor wealth alone, but there are points of difference which shouldreceive consideration. For instance, this old Hagar may be well enoughin her way, but suppose she were nearly connected with you--yourgrandmother, if you like--it would certainly make some difference inyour position. You would not be Maggie Miller, and I--"

"Wouldn't ride with me, I dare say, " interrupted Maggie; to which hereplied, "I presume not, " adding, as he saw slight indications ofpouting, "And therefore I am glad you are Maggie Miller, and notHagar's grandchild. "

Mentally pronouncing him a "proud, hateful thing, " Maggie rode on awhile in silence. But Mr. Carrollton knew well how to manage her, andhe too was silent until Maggie, who could never refrain from talkingany length of time, forgot herself and began chatting away as gayly asbefore. During their excursion they came near to the gorge of HenryWarner memory, and Maggie, who had never quite forgiven Mr. Carrolltonfor criticising her horsemanship, resolved to show him what she coulddo. The signal was accordingly given to Gritty, and ere her companionwas aware of her intention she was tearing over the ground at a speedhe could hardly equal. The ravine was just on the border of the wood, and without pausing for an instant Gritty leaped across it, landingsafely on the other side, where he stopped, while half fearfully, halfexultingly, Maggie looked back to see what Mr. Carrollton would do. At first he fancied Gritty beyond her control, and when he saw herdirectly over the deep chasm he shuddered, involuntarily stretchingout his arms to save her; but the look she gave him as she turnedaround convinced him that the risk she had run was done on purpose. Still he had no intention of following her, for he feared his horse'sability as well as his own to clear that pass. 

"Why don't you jump? Are you afraid?" and Maggie's eyes looked archlyout from beneath her tasteful riding cap. 

For half a moment he felt tempted to join her, but his better judgmentcame to his aid, and he answered: "Yes, Maggie, I am afraid, havingnever tried such an experiment. But I wish to be with you in someway, and as I cannot come to you I ask you to come to me. You seemaccustomed to the leap!"

He did not praise her. Nay, she fancied there was more of censurein the tones of his voice; at all events, he had asked her rathercommandingly to return, and she "wouldn't do it. " For a moment shemade no reply, and he said again, "Maggie, will you come?" then halfplayfully, half reproachfully, she made answer, "A gallant Englishmanindeed! willing I should risk my neck where you dare not ventureyours. No, I shan't try the leap again to-day, I don't feel like it;but I'll cross the long bridge half a mile from here--good-by;" andfully expecting him to meet her, she galloped off, riding ere longquite slowly, "so he'd have a nice long time to wait for her!"

How, then, was she disappointed, when, on reaching the bridge, therewas nowhere a trace of him to be seen, neither could she hearthe sound of his horse's footsteps, though she listened long andanxiously!

"He is certainly the most provoking man I ever saw!" she exclaimed, half crying with vexation. "Henry wouldn't have served me so, and I'mglad I was engaged to him before I saw this hateful Carrollton, forgrandma might possibly have coaxed me into marrying him, and thenwouldn't Mr. Dog and Mrs. Cat have led a stormy life! No, wewouldn't, " she continued; "I should in time get accustomed to mindinghim, and then I think he'd be splendid, though no better than Henry. Iwonder if Hagar has a letter for me!" and, chirruping to Gritty, shesoon stood at the door of the cabin. 

"Have you two been quarreling?" asked Hagar, noticing Maggie's flushedcheeks. "Mr. Carrollton passed here twenty minutes or more ago, looking mighty sober, and here you are with your face as red--What hashappened?"

"Nothing, " answered Maggie, a little testily, "only he's the meanestman! Wouldn't follow me when I leaped the gorge, and I know he couldif he had tried. "

"Showed his good sense, " interrupted Hagar, adding that Maggie mustn'tthink every man was going to risk his neck for her. 

"I don't think so, of course, " returned Maggie; "but he might actbetter--almost commanded me to come back and join him, as though I wasa little child; but I wouldn't do it. I told him I'd go down to thelong bridge and cross, expecting, of course, he'd meet me there; andinstead of that he has gone off home. How did he know what accidentwould befall me?"

"Accident!" repeated Hagar; "accident befall you, who know every crookand turn of these woods so much better than he does!"

"Well, anyway, he might have waited for me, " returned Maggie. "I don'tbelieve he'd care if I were to get killed. I mean to scare him andsee;" and, springing from Gritty's back, she gave a peculiar whistlingsound, at which the pony bounded away towards home, while she followedHagar into the cottage, where a letter from Henry awaited her. 

They were to sail for Cuba on the 15th of October, and he now wroteasking if Maggie would go without her grandmother's consent. But, though irresolute when he before broached the subject, Maggie wasdecided now. She would not run away; and so she said to Hagar, to whomshe confided the whole affair. 

"I do not think it would be right to elope, " she said. "In three yearsmore I shall be twenty-one, and free to do as I like; and if grandmawill not let me marry Henry now, he must wait. I can't run away. Rosewould not approve of it, I'm sure, and I almost know Mr. Carrolltonwould not. "

"I can't see how his' approving or not approving can affect you, "said Hagar; then bending down, so that her wild eyes looked full inMaggie's eyes, she said, "Are you beginning to like this Englishman?"

"Why, no, I guess I aint, " answered Maggie, coloring slightly. "Idislike him dreadfully, he's so proud. Why, he did the same as to saythat if I were your grandchild he would not ride with me!"

"My grandchild, Maggie Miller!--my grandchild!" shrieked Hagar. "Whatput that into his head?"

Thinking her emotion caused by anger at Arthur Carrollton, Maggiementally chided herself for having inadvertently said what she did, while at the same time she tried to soothe old Hagar, who rocked toand fro, as was her custom when her "crazy spells" were on. Growing alittle more composed, she said at last, "Marry Henry Warner, by allmeans, Maggie; he aint as proud as Carrollton--he would not care asmuch if he knew it. "

"Knew what?" asked Maggie; and, remembering herself in time, Hagaranswered adroitly: "Knew of your promise to let me live with you. Youremember it, don't you?" and she looked wistfully towards Maggie, who, far more intent upon something else, answered: "Yes, I remember. Buthush! don't I hear horses' feet coming rapidly through the woods?"and, running to the window, she saw Mr. Carrollton mounted uponGritty, and riding furiously towards the house. 

"You go out, Hagar, and see if he is looking for me, " whisperedMaggie, stepping back, so he could not see. 

"Henry Warner must snare the bird quick, or he will lose it, " mutteredHagar, as she walked to the door, where, evidently much excited, Mr. Carrollton asked if she knew aught of Miss Miller, and why Gritty hadcome home alone. "It is such an unusual occurrence, " said he, "that wefelt alarmed, and I have come in quest of her. "

From her post near the window Maggie could plainly see his face, whichwas very pale, and expressive of much concern, while his voice, shefancied, trembled as he spoke her name. 

"He does care, " she thought; woman's pride was satisfied, and ereHagar could reply she ran out, saying laughingly: "And so you thoughtmaybe I was killed, but I'm not. I concluded to walk home and letGritty go on in advance. I did not mean to frighten grandma. "

"She was not as much alarmed as myself, " said Mr. Carrollton, thetroubled expression of his countenance changing at once. "You do notknow how anxious I was when I saw Gritty come riderless to the door, nor yet how relieved I am in finding you thus unharmed. "

Maggie knew she did not deserve this, and blushing like a guiltychild she offered no resistance when he lifted her into the saddlegently--tenderly--as if she had indeed escaped from some great danger. 

"It is time you were home, " said he, and throwing the bridle acrosshis arm he rested his hand upon the saddle and walked slowly by herside. 

All his fancied coldness was forgotten; neither was the leap nor yetthe bridge once mentioned, for he was only too happy in having herback alive, while she was doubting the propriety of an experimentwhich, in the turn matters had taken, seemed to involve deception. Observing at last that he occasionally pressed his hand upon his side, she asked the cause, and was told that he had formerly been subject toa pain in his side, which excitement or fright greatly augmented. "Ihoped I was free from it, " he said, "but the sight of Gritty dashingup to the door without you brought on a slight attack; for I knew ifyou were harmed the fault was mine for having rather unceremoniouslydeserted you. "

This was more than Maggie could endure in silence. The frankingenuousness of her nature prevailed, and turning towards him herdark, beautiful eyes, in which tears were shining, she said: "Forgiveme, Mr. Carrollton. I sent Gritty home on purpose to see if you wouldbe annoyed, for I felt vexed because you would not humor my whim andmeet me at the bridge. I am sorry I caused you any uneasiness, " shecontinued, as she saw a shadow flit over his face. "Will you forgiveme?"

Arthur Carrollton could not resist the pleading of those lustrouseyes, nor yet refuse to take the ungloved hand she offered him;and if, in token of reconciliation, he did press it a little morefervently than Henry Warner would have thought at all necessary, heonly did what, under the circumstances, it was very natural heshould do. From the first Maggie Miller had been a puzzle to ArthurCarrollton; but he was fast learning to read her--was beginning tounderstand how perfectly artless she was--and this little incidentincreased, rather than diminished, his admiration. 

"I will forgive you, Maggie, " he said, "on one condition. You mustpromise never again to experiment with my feelings in a similarmanner. "

The promise was readily given, and then they proceeded on as leisurelyas if at home there was no anxious grandmother vibrating between herhigh-backed chair and the piazza, nor yet an Anna Jeffrey watchingthem enviously as they came slowly up the road. 

That night there came to Mr. Carrollton a letter from Montreal, sayinghis immediate presence was necessary there, on a business matter ofsome importance; and he accordingly decided to go on the morrow. 

"When may we expect you back?" asked Madam Conway, as in the morninghe was preparing for his journey. 

"It will, perhaps, be two months at least, before I return, " saidhe, adding that there was a possibility of his being obliged to goimmediately to England. 

In the recess of the window Maggie was standing, thinking how lonelythe house would be without him, and wishing there was no such thingas parting from those she liked--even as little as she did ArthurCarrollton. 

"I won't let him know that I care, though, " she thought, and forcing asmile to her face she was about turning to bid him good-by, when sheheard him tell her grandmother of the possibility there was that hewould be obliged to go directly to England from Montreal. 

"Then I may never see him again, " she thought; and the tears burstforth involuntarily at the idea of parting with him forever. 

Faster and faster they came, until at last, fearing lest he shouldsee them, she ran away upstairs, and, mounting to the roof, sat downbehind the chimney, where, herself unobserved, she could watch him farup the road. From the half-closed door of her chamber Anna Jeffrey hadseen Maggie stealing up the tower stairs; had seen, too, that shewas weeping, and, suspecting the cause, she went quietly down to theparlor to hear what Arthur Carrollton would say. The carriage waswaiting, his trunk was in its place, his hat was in his hand; to MadamConway he said good-by, to Anna Jeffrey too; and still he lingered, looking wistfully round in quest of something which evidently was notthere. 

"Where's Margaret?" he asked at last, and Madam Conway answered:"Surely, where can she be? Have you seen her, Anna?"

"I saw her on the stairs some time ago, " said Anna, adding thatpossibly she had gone to see Hagar, as she usually visited her at thishour. 

A shade of disappointment passed over Mr. Carrollton's face as hereplied, "Tell her I am sorry she thinks more of Hagar than of me. "

The next moment he was gone, and leaning against the chimney Maggiewatched with tearful eyes the carriage as it wound up the grassy road. On the brow of the hill, just before it would disappear from sight, itsuddenly stopped. Something was the matter with the harness, and whileJohn was busy adjusting it Mr. Carrollton leaned from the window, and, looking back, started involuntarily as he caught sight of the figureso clearly defined upon the housetop. A slight suspicion of the truthcame upon him, and kissing his hand he waved it gracefully towardsher. Maggie's handkerchief was wet with tears, but she shook it out inthe morning breeze, and sent to Arthur Carrollton, as she thought, herlast good-by. 

Fearing lest her grandmother should see her swollen eyes, she stoledown the stairs, and taking her shawl and bonnet from the table in thehall ran off into the woods, going to a pleasant, mossy bank not farfrom Hagar's cottage, where she had more than once sat with ArthurCarrollton, and where she fancied she would never sit with him again. 

"I don't believe it's for him that I am crying, " she thought, as shetried in vain to stay her tears; "I always intended to hate him, and Ialmost know I do; I'm only feeling badly because I won't run away, andHenry and Rose will go without me so soon!" And fully satisfied athaving discovered the real cause of her grief, she laid her head uponthe bright autumn grass and wept bitterly, holding her breath, andlistening intently as she heard in the distance the sound of theengine which was bearing Mr. Carrollton away. 

It did not occur to her that he could not yet have reached the depot, and as she knew nothing of a change in the time of the trains she wastaken wholly by surprise when, fifteen minutes later, a manly formbent over her, as she lay upon the bank, and a voice, earnest andthrilling in tones, murmured softly, "Maggie, are those tears for me?"

When about halfway to the station Mr. Carrollton had heard of thechange of time, and knowing he should not be in season had turned backwith the intention of waiting for the next train, which would pass ina few hours. Learning that Maggie was in the woods, he had started inquest of her, going naturally to the mossy bank, where, as we haveseen, he found her weeping on the grass. She was weeping for him--hewas sure of that. He was not indifferent to her, as he had sometimesfeared, and for an instant he felt tempted to take her in his arms andtell her how dear she was to him. 

"I will speak to her first, " he thought, and so he asked if the tearswere for him. 

Inexpressibly astonished and mortified at having him see her thus, Maggie started to her feet, while angry words at being thus intrudedupon trembled on her lips. But winding his arm around her, Mr. Carrollton drew her to his side, explaining to her in a few words howhe came to be there, and continuing: "I do not regret the delay, if byits means I have discovered what I very much wish to know. Maggie, doyou care for me? Were you weeping because I had left you?"

He drew her very closely to him--looking anxiously into her face, which she covered with her hands. She knew he was in earnest, andthe knowledge that he loved her thrilled her for an instant withindescribable happiness. A moment, however, and thoughts of herengagement with another flashed upon her. "She must not sit there thuswith Arthur Carrollton--she would be true to Henry, " and withmingled feelings of sorrow, regret, and anger--though why she shouldexperience either she did not then understand--she drew herself fromhim; and when he said again: "Will Maggie answer? Are those tearsfor me?" she replied petulantly: "No; can't a body cry without beingbothered for a reason? I came down here to be alone!"

"I did not mean to intrude, and I beg your pardon for having doneso, " said Mr. Carrollton sadly, adding, as Maggie made no reply: "Iexpected a different answer, Maggie. I almost hoped you liked me, andI believe now that you do. "

In Maggie's bosom there was a fierce struggle of feeling. She did likeArthur Carrollton--and she thought she liked Henry Warner--at allevents she was engaged to him, and half angry at the former forhaving disturbed her, and still more angry at herself for being thusdisturbed, she exclaimed, as he again placed his arm around her:"Leave me alone, Mr. Carrollton. I don't like you. I don't likeanybody!" and gathering up her shawl, which lay upon the grass, sheran away to Hagar's cabin, hoping he would follow her. But he did not. It was his first attempt at love-making, and very much disheartened hewalked slowly back to the house; and while Maggie, from Hagar's door, was looking to see if he were coming, he, from the parlor window, waswatching, too, for her, with a shadow on his brow and a load upon hisheart. Madam Conway knew that something was wrong, but it was in vainthat she sought an explanation. Mr. Carrollton kept his own secret;and consoling herself with his volunteered assurance that in caseit became necessary for him to return to England he should, beforeembarking, visit Hillsdale, she bade him a second adieu. 

In the meantime Maggie, having given up all hopes of again seeingMr. Carrollton, was waiting impatiently the coming of Hagar, who wasabsent, having, as Maggie readily conjectured, gone to Richland. Itwas long past noon when she returned, and by that time the stains haddisappeared from Maggie's face, which looked nearly as bright as ever. Still, it was with far less eagerness than usual that she tookfrom Hagar's hand the expected letter from Henry. It was a long, affectionate epistle, urging her once more to accompany him, andsaying if she still refused she must let him know immediately, as theywere intending to start for New York in a few days. 

"I can't go, " said Maggie; "it would not be right. " And going to thetime-worn desk, where, since her secret correspondence, she had keptmaterials for writing, she wrote to Henry a letter telling him shefelt badly to disappoint him, but she deemed it much wiser to defertheir marriage until her grandmother felt differently, or at leastuntil she was at an age to act for herself. This being done, she wentslowly back to the house, which to her seemed desolate indeed. Hergrandmother saw readily that something was the matter, and, rightlyguessing the cause, she forebore questioning her, neither did she oncethat day mention Mr. Carrollton, although Anna Jeffrey did, tellingher what he had said about her thinking more of Hagar than of himself, and giving as her opinion that he was much displeased with Maggie forher rudeness in running away. 

"Nobody cares for his displeasure, " answered Maggie, greatly vexed atAnna, who took especial delight in annoying her. 

Thus a week went by, when one evening, as Madam Conway and Maggie sattogether in the parlor, they were surprised by the sudden appearanceof Henry Warner. He had accompanied his aunt and sister to New York, where they were to remain for a few days, and then impelled by astrong desire to see Margaret once more he had come with the vainhope that at the last hour she would consent to fly with him, or hergrandmother consent to give her up. All the afternoon he had been atHagar's cottage waiting for Maggie, and at length determining to seeher he had ventured to the house. With a scowling frown Madam Conwaylooked at him through her glasses, while Maggie, half joyfully, halffearfully, went forward to meet him. In a few words he explained whyhe was there, and then again asked of Madam Conway if Margaret couldgo. 

"I do not believe she cares to go, " thought Madam Conway, as sheglanced at Maggie's face; but she did not say so, lest she shouldawaken within the young girl a feeling of opposition. 

She had watched Maggie closely, and felt sure that her affectionfor Henry Warner was neither deep nor lasting. Arthur Carrollton'spresence had done much towards weakening it, and a few months morewould suffice to wear it away entirely. Still, from what had passed, she fancied that opposition alone would only make the matter worse byrousing Maggie at once. She knew far more of human nature than eitherof the young people before her; and after a little reflection shesuggested that Henry should leave Maggie with her for a year, duringwhich time no communication whatever should pass between them, whileshe would promise faithfully not to influence Margaret either way. 

"If at the end of the year, " said she, "you both retain for each otherthe feelings you have now, I will no longer object to the marriage, but will make the best of it. "

At first Henry spurned the proposition, and when he saw that Margaretthought well of it he reproached her with a want of feeling, sayingshe did not love him as she had once done. 

"I shall not forget you, Henry, " said Maggie, coming to his side andtaking his hand in hers, "neither will you forget me; and when theyear has passed away, only think how much pleasanter it will be for usto be married here at home, with grandma's blessing on our union!"

"If I only knew you would prove true!" said Henry, who missedsomething in Maggie's manner. 

"I do mean to prove true, " she answered sadly, though at that momentanother face, another form, stood between her and Henry Warner, who, knowing that Madam Conway would not suffer her to go with him onany terms, concluded at last to make a virtue of necessity, andaccordingly expressed his willingness to wait, provided Margaret wereallowed to write occasionally either to himself or Rose. 

But to this Madam Conway would not consent. She wished the test tobe perfect, she said, and unless he accepted her terms he must giveMaggie up, at once and forever. 

As there seemed no alternative, Henry rather ungraciously yieldedthe point, promising to leave Maggie free for a year, while she toopromised not to write either to him or to Rose, except with hergrandmother's consent. Maggie Miller's word once passed, Madam Conwayknew it would not be broken, and she unhesitatingly left the youngpeople together while they said their parting words. A message of lovefrom Maggie to Rose--a hundred protestations of eternal fidelity, andthen they parted; Henry, sad and disappointed, slowly wending his wayback to the spot where Hagar impatiently awaited his coming, whileMaggie, leaning from her chamber window, and listening to the sound ofhis retreating footsteps, brushed away a tear, wondering the while whyit was that she felt so relieved. 

CHAPTER XVI

PERPLEXITY

Half in sorrow, half in joy, old Hagar listened to the story whichHenry told her, standing at her cottage door. In sorrow because shehad learned to like the young man, learned to think of him as Maggie'shusband, who would not wholly cast her oil, if her secret shouldchance to be divulged; and in joy because her idol would be with heryet a little longer. 

"Maggie will be faithful quite as long as you, " she said, when heexpressed his fears of her forgetfulness; and, trying to consolehimself with this assurance, he sprang into the carriage in which hehad come, and was driven rapidly away. 

He was too late for the night express, but taking the early morningtrain he reached New York just as the sun was setting. 

"Alone! my brother, alone?" queried Rose, as he entered the privateparlor of the hotel where she was staying with her aunt. 

"Yes, alone; just as I expected, " he answered somewhat bitterly. 

Then very briefly he related to her the particulars of his adventure, to which she listened eagerly, one moment chiding herself for thefaint, shadowy hope which whispered that possibly Maggie Miller wouldnever be his wife, and again sympathizing in his disappointment. 

"A year will not be very long, " she said, "and in the new scenes towhich you are going it will pass rapidly away;" and then, in herchildlike, guileless manner, she drew a glowing picture of the future, when, her own health restored, they would return to their old home inLeominster, where, after a few months more, he would bring to them hisbride. 

"You are my comforting angel, Rose, " he said, folding her lovingly inhis arms and kissing her smooth white cheek. "With such a treasure asyou for a sister, I ought not to repine, even though Maggie Millershould never be mine. "

The words were lightly spoken, and by him soon forgotten, but Roseremembered them long, dwelling upon them in the wearisome nights, whenin her narrow berth she listened to the swelling sea as it dashedagainst the vessel's side. Many a fond remembrance, too, she gaveto Maggie Miller, who, in her woodland home, thought often of thetravelers on the sea, never wishing that she was with them; butexperiencing always a feeling of pleasure in knowing that she wasMaggie Miller yet, and should be until next year's autumn leaves werefalling. 

Of Arthur Carrollton she thought frequently, wishing she had not beenso rude that morning in the woods, and feeling vexed because in hisletters to her grandmother he merely said, "Remember me to Margaret. "

"I wish he would write something besides that, " she thought, "for Iremember him now altogether too much for my own good;" and then shewondered what he would have said that morning, if she had not been socross. 

Very little was said to her of him by Madam Conway, who, havinglearned that he was not going to England, and would ere long return tothem, concluded for a time to let the matter rest, particularly asshe knew how much Maggie was already interested in one whom she hadresolved to hate. Feeling thus confident that all would yet end well, Madam Conway was in unusually good spirits save when thoughts of Mrs. Douglas, senior, obtruded themselves upon her. Then, indeed, in a mostunenviable state of mind, she repined at the disgrace which Theo hadbrought upon them, and charged Maggie repeatedly to keep it a secretfrom Mrs. Jeffrey and Anna, the first of whom made many inquiriesconcerning the family, which she supposed of course was veryaristocratic. 

One day towards the last of November there came to Madam Conway aletter from Mrs. Douglas, senior, wonderful alike in composition andappearance. Directed wrong side up, sealed with a wafer, and stampedwith a thimble, it bore an unmistakable resemblance to its writer, whoexpressed many regrets that she had not known "in the time on't" whoher illustrious visitors were. 

"If I had known [she wrote] I should have sot the table in the parlorcerting, for though I'm plain and homespun I know as well as the nextone what good manners is, and do my endeavors to practice it. But dotell a body [she continued] where you was muster day in Wooster. Iknocked and pounded enough to raise the dead, and nobody answered. Inever noticed you was deaf when you was here, though Betsy Jane thinksshe did. If you be, I'll send you up a receipt for a kind of intmentwhich Miss Sam Babbit invented, and which cures everything. 

"Theodoshy has been to see us, and though in my way of thinkin' sheaint as handsome as Margaret, she looks as well as the ginerality ofwomen. I liked her, too, and as soon as the men's winter clothes isoff my hands I calkerlate to have a quiltin', and finish up anotherbed quilt to send her, for, man-like, George has furnished up hisrooms with all sorts of nicknacks, and got only two blankets, and twoMarsales spreads for his bed. So I've sent 'em down the herrin'-boneand risin'-sun quilts for everyday wear, as I don't believe in usin'your best things all the time. My old man says I'd better let 'emalone; but he's got some queer ideas, thinks you'll sniff your nose atmy letter, and all that, but I've more charity for folks, and well Imight have, bein' that's my name. 

"CHARITY DOUGLAS. "

To this letter were appended three different postscripts. In the firstMadam Conway and Maggie were cordially invited to visit Charltonagain; in the second Betsy Jane sent her regrets; while in the thirdMadam Conway was particularly requested to excuse haste and a bad pen. 

"Disgusting creature!" was Madam Conway's exclamation as she finishedthe letter, then tossing it into the fire without a passing thought, she took up another one, which had come by the same mail, and was fromTheo herself. 

After dwelling at length upon the numerous calls she made, the partiesshe attended, the compliments she received, and her curiosity to knowwhy her grandmother came back that day, she spoke of her recent visitin Charlton. 

"You have been there, it seems [she wrote], so I need notparticularize, though I know how shocked and disappointed you musthave been; and I think it was kind in you to say nothing upon thesubject except that you had called there, for George reads all myletters, and I would not have his feelings hurt. He had prepared mein a measure for the visit, but the reality was even worse than Ianticipated. And still they are the kindest-hearted people in theworld, while Mr. Douglas is a man, they say, of excellent sense. George never lived at home much, and their heathenish ways mortifyhim, I know, though he never says a word except that they are hisparents. 

"People here respect George, too, quite as much as if he were aConway, and I sometimes think they like him all the better for beingso kind to his old father, who comes frequently to the store. Grandma, I begin to think differently of some things from what I did. Birthand blood do not make much difference, in this country, at least; andstill I must acknowledge that I should feel dreadfully if I did notlove George and know that he is the kindest husband in the world. "

The letter closed with a playful insinuation that as Henry Warnerhad gone, Maggie might possibly marry Arthur Carrollton, and so makeamends for the disgrace which Theo had unwittingly brought upon theConway line. 

For a long time after finishing the above, Madam Conway sat wrapped inthought. Could it be possible that all her life she had labored undera mistake? Were birth and family rank really of no consequence? WasGeorge just as worthy of respect as if he had descended directly fromthe Scottish race of Douglas, instead of belonging to that vulgarwoman? "It may be so in America, " she sighed, "but it is not true ofEngland, " and, sincerely hoping that Theo's remark concerning Mr. Carrollton might prove true, she laid aside the letter, and for theremainder of the day busied herself with preparations for the returnof Arthur Carrollton, who had written that he should be with them onthe 1st of December. 

The day came, and, unusually excited, Maggie flitted from room toroom, seeing that everything was in order, and wondering how he wouldmeet her and if he had forgiven her for having been so cross at theirlast interview in the woods. The effect of every suitable dress in herwardrobe was tried, and she decided at last upon a crimson and blackmerino, which harmonized well with her dark eyes and hair. The dresswas singularly becoming, and feeling quite well satisfied with theface and form reflected by her mirror she descended to the parlor, where any doubts she might have had concerning her personal appearancewere put to flight by Anna Jeffrey, who, with a feeling of envy, askedif she had the scarlet fever, referring to her bright color, and saying she did not think too red a face becoming to anyone, particularly to Margaret, to whom it gave a "blowsy" look, such as shehad more than once heard Mr. Carrollton say he did not like to see. 

Margaret knew well that the dark-browed girl would give almostanything for the roses blooming on her cheeks; so she made no reply, but simply wished Anna would return to England, as for the lasttwo months she had talked of doing. It was not quite dark, and Mr. Carrollton, if he came that night, would be with them soon. The carwhistle had sounded some time before, and Maggie's quick ear caught atlast the noise of the bells in the distance. Nearer and nearer theycame; the sleigh was at the door, and forgetting everything but herown happiness Maggie ran out to meet their guest, nor turned herglowing face away when he stooped down to kiss her. He had forgivenher ill-nature, she was certain of that, and very joyfully she led theway to the parlor, where as the full light of the lamp fell upon himshe started involuntarily, he seemed so changed. 

"Are you sick?" she asked; and her voice expressed the deep anxietyshe felt. 

Forcing back a slight cough, and smiling down upon her, he answeredcheerfully, "Oh, no, not sick! Canada air does not agree with me, that's all. I took a severe cold soon after my arrival in Montreal, "and the cough he had attempted to stifle now burst forth, sounding toMaggie, who thought only of consumption, like an echo from the grave. 

"Oh, I am so sorry!" she answered sadly, and her eyes filled withtears, which she did not try to conceal, for looking through thewindow across the snow-clad field, on which the winter moon wasshining, she saw instinctively another grave beside that of hermother. 

Madam Conway had not yet appeared, and, as Anna Jeffrey just thenleft the room, Mr. Carrollton was for some moments alone with Maggie. Winding his arm around her waist, and giving her a most expressivelook, he said, "Maggie, are those tears for me?"

Instantly the bright blushes stole over Maggie's face and neck, forshe remembered the time when once before he had asked her a similarquestion. Not now, as then, did she turn away from 'him, but sheanswered frankly: "Yes, they are. You look so pale and thin, I'm sureyou must be very ill. "

Whether Mr. Carrollton liked "blowsy" complexions or not, he certainlyadmired Maggie's at that moment, and drawing her closer to his side, he said, half playfully, half earnestly: "To see you thus anxious forme, Maggie, more than atones for your waywardness when last we parted. You are forgiven, but you are unnecessarily alarmed. I shall be bettersoon. Hillsdale air will do me good, and I intend remaining here untilI am well again. Will you nurse me, Maggie, just as my sister Helenwould do were she here?"

The right chord was touched, and all the soft, womanly qualitiesof Maggie Miller's nature were called forth by Arthur Carrollton'sfailing health. For several weeks after his arrival at Hillsdale hewas a confirmed invalid, lying all day upon the sofa in the parlor, while Maggie read to him from books which he selected, partly for thepurpose of amusing himself, and more for the sake of benefiting herand improving her taste for literature. At other times he would tellher of his home beyond the sea, and Maggie, listening to him whilehe described its airy halls, its noble parks, its shaded walks, andmusical fountains, would sometimes wish aloud that she might one daysee that spot which seemed to her so much like paradise. He wishedso too, and oftentimes when, with half-closed eyes, his mind waswandering amid the scenes of his youth, he saw at his side a queenlyfigure with features like those of Maggie Miller, who each day wasstealing more and more into his heart, where love for other than hisnearest friends had never before found entrance. She had many faults, he knew, but these he possessed both the will and the power tocorrect, and as day after day she sat reading at his side he watchedher bright, animated face, thinking what a splendid woman shewould make, and wondering if an American rose like her would beartransplanting to English soil. 

Very complacently Madam Conway looked on, reading aright theadmiration which Arthur Carrollton evinced for Margaret, who in turnwas far from being uninterested in him. Anna Jeffrey, too, watchedthem jealously, pondering in her own mind some means by which shecould, if possible, annoy Margaret. Had she known how far mattershad gone with Henry Warner, she would unhesitatingly have told it toArthur Carrollton; but so quietly had the affair been managed that sheknew comparatively little. This little, however, she determined totell him, together with any embellishments she might see fit to use. Accordingly, one afternoon, when he had been there two months or more, and Maggie had gone with her grandmother to ride, she went down to theparlor under pretense of getting a book to read. He was much betternow, but, feeling somewhat fatigued from a walk he had taken in theyard, he was reclining upon the sofa. Leaning over the rocking-chairwhich stood near by, Anna inquired for his health, and then asked howlong since he had heard from home. 

He liked to talk of England, and as there was nothing to himparticularly disagreeable in Anna Jeffrey he bade her be seated. Verywillingly she complied with his request, and, after talking a while ofEngland, announced her intention of returning home the last of March. "My aunt prefers remaining with Madam Conway, but I don't likeAmerica, " said she, "and I often wonder why I am here. "

"I supposed you came to be with your aunt, who, I am told, has been toyou a second mother, " answered Mr. Carrollton; and Anna replied: "Youare right. She could not be easy until she got me here, where I know Iam not wanted--at least not altogether. "

Mr. Carrollton looked inquiringly at her, and Anna continued, "I fullysupposed I was to be a companion for Margaret; but instead of that shetreats me with the utmost coolness, making me feel keenly my positionas a dependent. "

"That does not seem at all like Maggie, " said Mr. Carrollton; and, with a meaning smile far more expressive than words, Anna answered:"She may not always be alike. But hush! don't I hear bells?" and sheran to the window, saying as she resumed her seat: "I thought they hadcome: but I was mistaken. I dare say Maggie has coaxed her grandmotherto drive by the post office, thinking there might be a letter fromHenry Warner. "

Her manner affected Mr. Carrollton perceptibly, but he made no reply;and Anna asked if he knew Mr. Warner. 

"I saw him in Worcester, I believe, " he said; and Anna continued, "Doyou think him a suitable husband for a girl like Maggie?"

There was a deep flush on Arthur Carrollton's cheek, and his lips werewhiter than their wont as he answered, "I know nothing of him, neitherdid I suppose Miss Miller ever thought of him for a husband. "

"I know she did at one time, " said his tormentor, turning the leavesof her book with well-feigned indifference. "It was not any secret, orI should not speak of it; of course Madam Conway was greatly opposedto it too, and forbade her writing to him; but how the matter is now Ido not positively know, though I am quite sure they are engaged. "

"Isn't it very close here? Will you please to open the hall door?"said Mr. Carrollton suddenly, panting for breath; and, satisfied withher work, Anna did as desired and then left him alone. 

"Maggie engaged!" he said; "engaged!--when I hoped to win her formyself!" and a sharp pang shot through his heart as he thought ofgiving to another the beautiful girl who had grown so into his love. "But I am glad I learned it in time, " he continued, hurriedly walkingthe floor, "knew it ere I had done Henry Warner a wrong by telling herof my love, and asking her to go with me to my English home, whichwill be desolate without her. This is why she repulsed me in thewoods. She knew I ought not to speak of love to her. Why didn't I seeit before, or why has not Madam Conway told me the truth! She atleast has deceived me;" and with a feeling of keen disappointment hecontinued to pace the floor, one moment resolving to leave Hillsdaleat once, and again thinking how impossible it was to tear himselfaway. 

Arthur Carrollton was a perfectly honorable man, and once assured ofMaggie's engagement he would neither by word nor deed do aught towhich the most fastidious lover could object, and Henry Warner'srights were as safe with him as with the truest of friends. But wasMaggie really engaged? Might there not be some mistake? He hoped so atleast, and alternating between hope and fear he waited impatiently thereturn of Maggie, who, with each thought of losing her, seemed tenfolddearer to him than she had ever been before; and when at last she camebounding in, he could scarcely refrain from folding her in his armsand asking of her to think again ere she gave another than himself theright of calling her his bride. But she is not mine, he thought; andso he merely took her cold hands within his own, rubbing them untilthey were warm. Then seating himself by her side upon the sofa hespoke of her ride, asking casually if she called at the post office. 

"No, we did not drive that way, " she answered readily, adding that thepost office had few attractions for her now, as no one wrote to hersave Theo. 

She evidently spoke the truth, and with a feeling of relief Mr. Carrollton thought that possibly Miss Jeffrey might have beenmistaken; but he would know at all hazards, even though he ran therisk of being thought extremely rude. Accordingly, that evening, afterMrs. Jeffrey and Anna had retired to their room, and while MadamConway was giving some household directions in the kitchen, he askedher to come and sit by him as he lay upon the sofa, himself placingher chair where the lamplight would fall full upon her face andreveal its every expression. Closing the piano, she complied with hisrequest, and then waited in silence for what he wanted to say. 

"Maggie, " he began, "you may think me bold, but there is something Ivery much wish to know, and which you, if you choose, can tell me. From what I have heard, I am led to think you are engaged. Will youtell me if this is true?"

The bright color faded from Maggie's cheek, while her eyes grew darkerthan before, and still she did not speak. Not that she was angry withhim for asking her that question; but because the answer, which, ifmade at all, must be yes, was hard to utter. And yet why should shehesitate to tell him the truth at once?

Alas, for thee, Maggie Miller! The fancied love you feel for HenryWarner is fading fast away. Arthur Carrollton is a dangerous rival, and even now you cannot meet the glance of his expressive eyes withouta blush! Your better judgment acknowledged his superiority to Henrylong ago, and now in your heart there is room for none save him. 

"Maggie, " he said, again stretching out his hand to take theunresisting one which lay upon her lap, "you need not make me otheranswer save that so plainly written on your face. You are engaged, andmay Heaven's blessing attend both you and yours!"

At this moment Madam Conway appeared, and fearing her inability tocontrol her feelings longer Maggie precipitately left the room. Goingto her chamber, she burst into a passionate fit of weeping, one momentblaming Mr. Carrollton for having learned her secret, and the nextchiding herself for wishing to withhold from him a knowledge of herengagement. 

"It is not that I love Henry less, I am sure, " she thought; and layingher head upon her pillow she recalled everything which had passedbetween herself and her affianced husband, trying to bring back theolden happiness with which she had listened to his words of love. Butit would not come; there was a barrier in the way--Arthur Carrollton, as he looked when he said so sadly, "You need not tell me, Maggie. "

"Oh, I wish he had not asked me that question!" she sighed. "It hasput such dreadful thoughts into my head. And yet I love Henry as wellas ever--I know I do; I am sure of it, or if I do not, I will, " andrepeating to herself again and again the words, "I will, I will, " shefell asleep. 

Will, however, is not always subservient to one's wishes, and duringthe first few days succeeding the incident of that night Maggie oftenfound herself wishing Arthur Carrollton had never come to Hillsdale, he made her so wretched, so unhappy. Insensibly, too, she becamea very little unamiable, speaking pettishly to her grandmother, disrespectfully to Mrs. Jeffrey, haughtily to Anna, and rarely to Mr. Carrollton, who after the lapse of two or three weeks began to talk ofreturning home in the same vessel with Anna Jeffrey, at which time hishealth would be fully restored. Then, indeed, did Maggie awake tothe reality that while her hand was plighted to one, she lovedanother--not as in days gone by she had loved Henry Warner, but with adeeper, more absorbing love. With this knowledge, too, there came thethought that Arthur Carrollton had once loved her, and but for theengagement now so much regretted he would ere this have told her so. But it was too late! too late! He would never feel toward her again ashe once had felt, and bitter tears she shed as she contemplatedthe fast-coming future, when Arthur Carrollton would be gone, orshudderingly thought of the time when Henry Warner would return toclaim her promise. 

"I cannot, cannot marry him, " she cried, "until I've torn that otherimage from my heart!" and then for many days she strove to recall theolden love in vain; for, planted on the sandy soil of childhood, as itwere, it had been outgrown, and would never again spring into life. "Iwill write to him exactly how it is, " she said at last; "will tellhim that the affection I felt for him could not have been what a wifeshould feel for her husband. I was young, had seen nothing of theworld, knew nothing of gentlemen's society, and when he came with hishandsome face and winning ways my interest was awakened. Sympathy, too, for his misfortune increased that interest, which grandma'sopposition tended in no wise to diminish. But it has died out, thatfancied love, and I cannot bring it back. Still, if he insists, I willkeep my word, and when he comes next autumn I will not tell him 'No. '"

Maggie was very calm when this decision was reached, and opening herwriting desk she wrote just as she said she would, begging him toforgive her if she had done him wrong, and beseeching Rose to comforthim as only a sister like her could do. "And remember, " she wrote atthe close, "remember that sooner than see you very unhappy, I willmarry you, will try to be a faithful wife; though, Henry, I wouldrather not--oh, so much rather not!"

The letter was finished, and then Maggie took it to her grandmother, who read it eagerly, for in it she saw a fulfillment of her wishes. Very closely had she watched both Mr. Carrollton and Maggie, readilydivining the truth that something was wrong between them. But frompast experience she deemed it wiser not to interfere directly. Mr. Carrollton's avowed intention of returning to England, however, startled her, and she was revolving some method of procedure whenMargaret brought to her the letter. 

"I am happier than I can well express, " she said, when she hadfinished reading it. "Of course you have my permission to send it. Butwhat has changed you, Maggie? Has another taken the place of HenryWarner?"

"Don't ask me, grandma, " cried Maggie, covering her face with herhands; "don't ask me, for indeed I can only tell you that I am veryunhappy. "

A little skillful questioning on Madam Conway's part sufficed toexplain the whole--how constant association with Arthur Carrollton hadwon for him a place in Maggie's heart which Henry Warner had neverfilled; how the knowledge that she loved him as she could love noother one had faintly revealed itself to her on the night when heasked if she were engaged, and had burst upon her with overwhelmingpower when she heard that he was going home. 

"He will never think of me again, I know, " she said; "but, with mypresent feelings, I cannot marry Henry, unless he insists upon it. "

"Men seldom wish to marry a woman who says she does not love them, andHenry Warner will not prove an exception, " answered Madam Conway; and, comforted with this assurance, Maggie folded up her letter, which wassoon on its way to Cuba. 

The next evening, as Madam Conway sat alone with Mr. Carrollton, shespoke of his return to England, expressing her sorrow, and asking whyhe did not remain with them longer. 

"I will deal frankly with you, madam, " said he, "and say that if Ifollowed my own inclination I should stay, for Hillsdale holds forme an attraction which no other spot possesses. I refer to yourgranddaughter, who, in the little time I have known her, has grownvery dear to me--so dear that I dare not stay longer where she is, lest I should love her too well, and rebel against yielding her toanother. "

For a moment Madam Conway hesitated; but, thinking the case demandedher speaking, she said: "Possibly Mr. Carrollton, I can make anexplanation which will show some points in a different light from thatin which you now see them. Margaret is engaged to Henry Warner, I willadmit; but the engagement has become irksome, and yesterday she wroteasking a release, which he will grant, of course. "

Instantly the expression of Mr. Carrollton's face was changed, andvery intently he listened while Madam Conway frankly told him thestory of Margaret's engagement up to the present time, withholdingfrom him nothing, not even Maggie's confession of the interest shefelt in him, an interest which had weakened her girlish attachment forHenry Warner. 

"You have made me very happy, " Mr. Carrollton said to Madam Conway, as, at a late hour, he bade her good-night--"happier than I can wellexpress; for without Margaret life to me would be dreary indeed. "

The next morning, at the breakfast table, Anna Jeffrey, who wasin high spirits with the prospect of having Mr. Carrollton for afellow-traveler, spoke of their intended voyage, saying she couldhardly wait for the time to come, and asking if he were not equallyimpatient to leave so horrid a country as America. 

"On the contrary, " he replied, "I should be sorry to leave Americajust yet. I have therefore decided to remain a little longer;" and hiseyes sought the face of Maggie, who, in her joyful surprise, droppedthe knife with which she was helping herself to butter; while AnnaJeffrey, quite as much astonished, upset her coffee, exclaiming: "Notgoing home! What has changed your mind?"

Mr. Carrollton made her no direct reply, and she continued herbreakfast in no very amiable mood; while Maggie, too much overjoyedto eat, managed ere long to find an excuse for leaving the table. Mr. Carrollton wished to do everything honorably, and so he decided to saynothing to Maggie of the cause of this sudden change in his plan untilHenry Warner's answer was received, as she would then feel freer toact as she felt. His resolution, however, was more easily made thankept, and during the succeeding weeks, by actions, if not by words, he more than once told Maggie Miller how much she was beloved; andMaggie, trembling with fear lest the cup of happiness just within hergrasp should be rudely dashed aside, waited impatiently for the letterwhich was to set her free. But weeks went by, and Maggie's heart grewsick with hope deferred, for there came to her no message from thedistant Cuban shore, which in another chapter we shall visit. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

BROTHER AND SISTER. 

Brightly shone the moonlight on the sunny isle of Cuba, dancinglightly on the wave, resting softly on the orange groves, and stealinggently through the casement, into the room where a young girllay, whiter far than the flowers strewn upon her pillow. From thecommencement of the voyage Rose had drooped, growing weaker every day, until at last all who looked upon her felt that the home of which shetalked so much would never again be gladdened by her presence. Verytenderly Henry Warner nursed her, bearing her often in his arms up onthe vessel's deck, where she could breathe the fresh morning air as itcame rippling o'er the sea. But neither the ocean breeze, nor yet thefragrant breath of Florida's aromatic bowers, where for a time theystopped, had power to rouse her; and when at last Havana was reachedshe laid her weary head upon her pillow, whispering to no one of thelove which was wearing her life away. With untold anguish at theirhearts, both her aunt and Henry watched her, the latter shrinking everfrom the thought of losing one who seemed a part of his very life. 

"I cannot give you up, my Rose. I cannot live without you, " he said, when once she talked to him of death. "You are all the world to me;"and, laying his head upon her pillow, he wept as men will sometimesweep over their one great sorrow. 

"Don't, Henry, " she said, laying her tiny hand upon his hair. "Maggiewill comfort you when I am gone. She will talk to you of me, standingat my grave, for, Henry, you must not leave me here alone. You mustcarry me home and bury me in dear old Leominster, where my childhoodwas passed, and where I learned to love you so much--oh, so much!"

There was a mournful pathos in the tone with which the last words wereuttered, but Henry Warner did not understand it, and covering thelittle blue-veined hand with kisses he promised that her grave shouldbe made at the foot of the garden in their far-off home, where thesunlight fell softly and the moonbeams gently shone. That eveningHenry sat alone by Rose, who had fallen into a disturbed slumber. Fora time he took no notice of the disconnected words she uttered in herdreams, but when at last he heard the sound of his own name he drewnear, and, bending low, listened with mingled emotions of joy, sorrow, and surprise to a secret which, waking, she would never have toldhim, above all others. She loved him, --the fair girl he called hissister, --but not as a sister loves; and now, as he stood by her, withthe knowledge thrilling every nerve, he remembered many bygone scenes, when but for his blindness he would have seen how every pulsation ofher heart throbbed alone for him whose hand was plighted to another, and that other no unworthy rival. Beautiful, very beautiful, was theshadowy form which at that moment seemed standing at his side, andhis heart went out towards her as the one above all others to be hisbride. 

"Had I known it sooner, " he thought, "known it before I met thepeerless Maggie, I might have taken Rose to my bosom and loved her--itmay be with a deeper love than that I feel for Maggie Miller, for Roseis everything to me. She has made and keeps me what I am, and how canI let her die when I have the power to save her?"

There was a movement upon the pillow. Rose was waking, and as her softblue eyes unclosed and looked up in his face he wound his arms aroundher, kissing her lips as never before he had kissed her. She wasnot his sister now--the veil was torn away--a new feeling had beenawakened, and as days and weeks went by there gradually crept inbetween him and Maggie Miller a new love--even a love for thefair-haired Rose, to whom he was kinder, if possible, than he had beenbefore, though he seldom kissed her lips or caressed her in any way. 

"It would be wrong, " he said, "a wrong to myself--a wrong to her--anda wrong to Maggie Miller, to whom my troth is plighted;" and he didnot wish it otherwise, he thought; though insensibly there came overhim a wish that Maggie herself might weary of the engagement and seekto break it. Not that he loved her the less, he reasoned, but that hepitied Rose the more. 

In this manner time passed on, until at last there came to himMaggie's letter, which had been a long time on the sea. 

"I expected it, " he thought, as he finished reading it, and thoughconscious for a moment of a feeling of disappointment the letterbrought him far more pleasure than pain. 

Of Arthur Carrollton no mention had been made, but he readily guessedthe truth; and thinking, "It is well, " he laid the letter aside andwent back to Rose, deciding to say nothing to her then. He would waituntil his own feelings were more perfectly defined. So a week went by, and again, as he had often done before, he sat with her alone in thequiet night, watching her as she slept, and thinking how beautifulshe was, with her golden hair shading her childish face, her longeyelashes resting on her cheek, and her little hands folded meeklyupon her bosom. 

"She is too beautiful to die, " he murmured, pressing a kiss upon herlips. 

This act awoke her, and, turning towards him she said, "Was Idreaming, Henry, or did you kiss me as you used to do?"

"Not dreaming, Rose, " he answered--then rather hurriedly he added: "Ihave a letter from Maggie Miller, and ere I answer it I would read itto you. Can you hear it now?"

"Yes, yes, " she whispered faintly; "read it to me, Henry;" and, turning her face away, she listened while he read that Maggie Miller, grown weary of her troth, asked a release from her engagement. 

He finished reading, and then waited in silence to hear what Rosewould say. But for a time she did not speak. All hope for herself hadlong since died away, and now she experienced only sorrow for Henry'sdisappointment. 

"My poor brother, " she said at last, turning her face towards him andtaking his hand in hers; "I am sorry for you--to lose us both, Maggieand me. What will you do?"

"Rose, " he said, bending so low that his brown locks mingled with theyellow tresses of her hair--"Rose, I do not regret Maggie Miller'sdecision, neither do I blame her for it. She is a noble, true-heartedgirl, and so long as I live I shall esteem her highly; but I too havechanged--have learned to love another. Will you sanction this newlove, dear Rose? Will you say that it is right?"

The white lids closed over the eyes of blue, but they could not keepback the tears which rolled down her face, as she asked somewhatsadly, "Who is it, Henry?"

There was another moment of silence, and then he whispered in her ear:"People call her Rose; I once called her sister; but my heart nowclaims her for something nearer. My Rose, " he continued, "shall it be?Will you live for my sake? Will you be my wife?"

The shock was too sudden--too great; and neither on that night, noryet the succeeding day, had Rose the power to answer. But as the dewof heaven is to the parched and dying flower, so were these words oflove to her, imparting at once new life and strength, making her as itwere another creature. The question asked that night so unexpectedlywas answered at last; and then with almost perfect happiness at herheart, she too added a few lines to the letter which Henry sent toMaggie Miller, over whose pathway, hitherto so bright, a fearfulshadow was falling. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE PEDDLER. 

It was a rainy April day--a day which precluded all outdoor exercise, and Hagar Warren, from the window of her lonely cabin, watched in vainfor the coming of Maggie Miller. It was now more than a week since shehad been there, for both Arthur Carrollton and herself had accompaniedthe disappointed Anna Jeffrey to New York, going with her on boardthe vessel which was to take her from a country she affected so todislike. 

"I dare say you'll be Maggie somebody else ere I meet you again, " shesaid to Maggie, at parting, and Mr. Carrollton, on the journey home, found it hard to keep from asking her if for the "somebody else" shewould substitute his name, and so be "Maggie Carrollton. "

This, however, he did not do; but his attentions were so marked, andhis manner towards her so affectionate, that ere Hillsdale was reachedthere was in Maggie's mind no longer a doubt as to the nature of hisfeelings toward her. Arrived at home, he kept her constantly athis side, while Hagar, who was suffering from a slight attack ofrheumatism, and could not go up to the stone house, waited andwatched, thinking herself almost willing to be teased for the secret, if she could once more hear the sound of Maggie's voice. The secret, however, had been forgotten in the exciting scenes through whichMaggie had passed since first she learned of its existence; and it wasnow a long time since she had mentioned it to Hagar, who each day grewmore and more determined never to reveal it. 

"My life is almost ended, " she thought, "and the secret shall go withme to my grave. Margaret will be happier without it, and it shall notbe revealed. "

Thus she reasoned on that rainy afternoon, when she sat waiting forMaggie, who, she heard, had returned the day before. Slowly the hoursdragged on, and the night shadows fell at last upon the foresttrees, creeping into the corners of Hagar's room, resting upon thehearthstone, falling upon the window pane, creeping up the wall, andaffecting Hagar with a nameless fear of some impending evil. This fearnot even the flickering flame of the lamp, which she lighted at lastand placed upon the mantel, was able to dispel, for the shadows grewdarker, folding themselves around her heart, until she covered hereyes with her hands, lest some goblin shape should spring into lifebefore her. 

The sound of the gate latch was heard, and footsteps were approachingthe door--not the bounding step of Maggie, but a tramping tread, followed by a heavy knock, and next moment a tall, heavy-built manappeared before her, asking shelter for the night. The pack he carriedshowed him at once to be a peddler, and upon a nearer view Hagarrecognized in him a stranger who, years before, had craved herhospitality. He had been civil to her then; she did not fear him now, and she consented to his remaining, thinking his presence there mightdispel the mysterious terror hanging around her. But few words passedbetween them that night, for Martin, as he called himself, was tired, and after partaking of the supper that she prepared he retired torest. The next morning, however, he was more talkative, kindlyenlightening her with regard to his business, his family, and hisplace of residence, which last he said was in Meriden, Conn. 

It was a long time since Hagar had heard that name, and now, turningquickly towards him, she said, "Meriden? That is where my Hesterlived, and where her husband died. "

"I want to know!" returned the Yankee peddler. "What might have beenhis name?"

"Hamilton--Nathan Hamilton. Did you know him? He died nineteen yearsago this coming summer. "

"Egzactly!" ejaculated the peddler, setting down his pack and himselftaking a chair, preparatory to a long talk. "Egzactly; I knowed himlike a book. Old Squire Hampleton, the biggest man in Meriden, and youdon't say his last wife, that tall, handsome gal, was your darter?"

"Yes, she was my daughter, " answered Hagar, her whole face glowingwith the interest she felt in talking for the first time in her lifewith one who had known her daughter's husband, Maggie's father. "Youknew her. You have seen her?" she continued; and Martin answered, "Seen her a hundred times, I'll bet. Anyhow, I sold her the weddin'gown; and now, I think on't, she favored you. She was a likely person, and I allus thought that proud sister of his'n, the Widder Warner, might have been in better business than takin' them children away asshe did, because he married his hired gal. But it's as well for them, I s'pose, particularly for the boy, who is one of the fust young menin Wooster now. Keeps a big store!"

"Warner, Warner!" interrupted old Hagar, the nameless terror of thenight before creeping again into her heart. "Whose name did you saywas Warner?"

"The hull on 'em, boy, girl, and all, is called Warner now--one Rose, and t'other Henry, " answered the peddler, perfectly delighted with theinterest manifested by his auditor, who, grasping at the bedpost andmoving her hand rapidly before her eyes, as if to clear away a mistwhich had settled there, continued, "I remember now, Hester told me ofthe children; but one, she said, was a stepchild--that was the boy, wasn't it?" and her wild, black eyes had in them a look of unutterableanxiety, wholly incomprehensible to the peddler, who, instead ofanswering her question said: "What ails you woman? Your face is aswhite as a piece of paper?"

"Thinking of Hester always affects me so, " she answered; andstretching her hands beseechingly towards him, she entreated him tosay if Henry were not the stepchild. 

"No marm, he warn't, " answered the peddler, who, like a great manytalkative people, pretended to know more than he really did, and whoin this particular instance was certainly mistaken. "I can tell youegzactly how that is: Henry was the son of Mr. Hampleton's firstmarriage--Henry Hampleton. The second wife, the one your darter livedwith, was the Widder Warner, and had a little gal, Rose, when shemarried Mr. Hampleton. This Widder Warner's husband's brother marriedMr. Hampleton's sister, the woman who took the children, and had Henrychange his name to Warner. The Hampletons and Warners were mightybig-feelin' folks, and the old squire's match mortified 'emdreadfully. "

"Where are they now?" gasped Hagar, hoping there might be somemistake. 

"There you've got me!" answered Martin. "I haven't seen 'em thisdozen year; but the last I heard, Miss Warner and Rose was livin' inLeominster, and Henry was in a big store in Wooster. But what theplague is the matter?" he continued, alarmed at the expression ofHagar's face, as well as at the strangeness of her manner. 

Wringing her hands as if she would wrench her fingers from theirsockets, she clutched at her long white hair, and, rocking to and fro, moaned, "Woe is me, and woe the day when I was born!"

From everyone save her grandmother Margaret had kept the knowledge ofher changed feelings towards Henry Warner; and looking upon a marriagebetween the two as an event surely to be expected, old Hagar wasoverwhelmed with grief and fear. Falling at last upon her knees, shecried: "Had you cut my throat from ear to ear, old man, you could nothave hurt me more! Oh, that I had died years and years ago! But I mustlive now--live!" she screamed, springing to her feet--"live to preventthe wrong my own wickedness has caused!"

Perfectly astonished at what he saw and heard, the peddler attemptedto question her, but failing to obtain any satisfactory answers hefinally left, mentally pronouncing her "as crazy as a loon. " Thisopinion was confirmed by the people on whom he next called, for, chancing to speak of Hagar, he was told that nothing which she did orsaid was considered strange, as she had been called insane for years. This satisfied Martin, who made no further mention of her, andthus the scandal which his story might otherwise have produced wasprevented. 

In the meantime on her face lay old Hagar, moaning bitterly. "My sinhas found me out; and just when I thought it never need be known! Formyself I do not care; but Maggie, Maggie--how can I tell her that sheis bone of my bone, blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh--and me oldHagar Warren!"

It would be impossible to describe the scorn and intense loathingconcentrated in the tones of Hagar's voice as she uttered these lastwords, "and me old Hagar Warren!" Had she indeed been the veriestwretch on earth, she could not have hated herself more than she did inthat hour of her humiliation, when, with a loud voice, she cried, "Letme die, oh, let me die, and it will never be known!" Then, as shereflected upon the terrible consequence which would ensue were she todie and make no sign, she wrung her hands despairingly, crying: "Life, life--yes, give me life to tell her of my guilt; and then it will bea blessed rest to die. Oh, Margaret, my precious child, I'd give myheart's blood, drop by drop, to save you; but it can't be; you mustnot wed your father's son; oh, Maggie, Maggie, Maggie!"

Fainter and fainter grew each succeeding word, and when the last wasspoken she fell again upon her face, unconscious and forgetful of herwoe. Higher and higher in the heavens rose the morning sun, stealingacross the window sill, and shining aslant the floor, where Hagarstill lay in a deep, deathlike swoon. An hour passed on, and then thewretched woman came slowly back to life, her eyes lighting up withjoy, as she whispered, "It was a dream, thank Heaven, 'twas a dream!"and then growing dim with tears, as the dread reality came over her. The first fearful burst of grief was passed, for Hagar now could weep, and tears did her good, quelling the feverish agony at her heart. Notfor herself did she suffer so much as for Maggie, trembling for theeffect the telling of the secret would have on her. For it must betold. She knew that full well, and as the sun fast neared the westernhorizon, she murmured, "Oh, will she come to-night, will she cometo-night?"

Yes, Hagar, she will. Even now her feet, which, when they backwardturn, will tread less joyously, are threading the woodland path. Thehalfway rock is reached--nearer and nearer she comes--her shadowfalls across the floor--her hand is on your arm--her voice in yourear--Maggie Miller is at your side--Heaven help you both!

CHAPTER XIX. 

THE TELLING OF THE SECRET. 

"Hagar! Hagar!" exclaimed Maggie, playfully bounding to her side, andlaying her hand upon her arm. "What aileth thee, Hagar?"

The words were meet, for never Hagar in the desert, thirsting for thegushing fountain, suffered more than did she who sat with covered faceand made no word of answer. Maggie was unusually happy that day, forbut a few hours before she had received Henry's letter making herfree--free to love Arthur Carrollton, who she well knew only waited afavorable opportunity to tell her of his love; so with a heart full ofhappiness she had stolen away to visit Hagar, reproaching herself asshe came for having neglected her so long. "But I'll make amends bytelling her what I'm sure she must have guessed, " she thought, as sheentered the cottage, where, to her surprise, she found her weeping. Thinking the old woman's distress might possibly be occasioned by herneglect, she spoke again. "Are you crying for me, Hagar?"

"Yes, Maggie Miller, for you--for you!" answered Hagar, lifting up aface so ghastly white that Maggie started back in some alarm. 

"Poor Hagar, you are ill, " she said, and advancing nearer she woundher arms around the trembling form, and, pillowing the snowy head uponher bosom, continued soothingly: "I did not mean to stay away long. Iwill not do it again, but I am so happy, Hagar, so happy that I halfforgot myself. "

For a moment Hagar let her head repose upon the bosom of her child, then murmuring softly, "It will never lie there again, " she arose, and, confronting Maggie, said, "Is it love which makes you so happy?"

"Yes, Hagar, love, " answered Margaret, the deep blushes stealing overher glowing face. 

"And is it your intention to marry the man you love?" continued Hagar, thinking only of Henry Warner, while Margaret, thinking only of ArthurCarrollton, replied, "If he will marry me, I shall most surely marryhim. "

"It is enough. I must tell her, " whispered Hagar; while Maggie asked, "Tell me what?"

For a moment the wild eyes fastened themselves upon her with a lookof yearning anguish, and then Hagar answered slowly, "Tell you whatyou've often wished to know--my secret!" the last word dropping fromher lips more like a warning hiss than like a human sound. It was longsince Maggie had teased for the secret, so absorbed had she been inother matters, but now that there was a prospect of knowing ither curiosity was reawakened, and while her eyes glistened withexpectation, she said, "Yes, tell it to me, Hagar, and then I'll tellyou mine;" and all over her beautiful face there shone a joyouslight as she thought how Hagar, who had once pronounced Henry Warnerunworthy, would rejoice in her new love. 

"Not here, Maggie--not here in this room can I tell you, " said oldHagar; "but out in the open air, where my breath will come morefreely;" and, leading the way, she hobbled to the mossy bank whereMaggie had sat with Arthur Carrollton on the morning of his departurefor Montreal. 

Here she sat down, while Maggie threw herself upon the damp ground ather feet, her face lighted with eager curiosity and her lustrous eyesbright as stars with excitement. For a moment Hagar bent forward, and, folding her hands one above the other, laid them upon the head of theyoung girl as if to gather strength for what she was to say. But allin vain; for when she essayed to speak her tongue clave to the roof ofher mouth, and her lips gave forth unmeaning sounds. 

"It must be something terrible to affect her so, " thought Maggie, and, taking the bony hands between her own, she said, "I would not tell it, Hagar; I do not wish to hear. "

The voice aroused the half-fainting woman, and, withdrawing her handfrom Maggie's grasp, she replied, "Turn away your face, MargaretMiller, so I cannot see the hatred settling over it, when I tell youwhat I must. "

"Certainly; my back if you prefer it, " answered Maggie, halfplayfully; and turning round she leaned her head against the feebleknees of Hagar. 

"Maggie, Maggie, " began the poor old woman, lingering long andlovingly over that dear name, "nineteen years ago, next December, Itook upon my soul the secret sin which has worn my life away, but Idid it for the love I had for you. Oh, Margaret, believe it, for thelove I had for you, more than for my own ambition;" and the longfingers slid nervously over the bands of shining hair just within herreach. 

At the touch of those fingers, Maggie shuddered involuntarily. Therewas a vague, undefined terror stealing over her, and, impatient toknow the worst, she said, "Go on, tell me what you did. "

"I can't--I can't--and yet I must!" cried Hagar. "You were a beautifulbaby, Maggie, and the other one was sickly, pinched, and blue. Ihad you both in my room the night after Hester died; and thedevil--Maggie, do you know how the devil will creep into the heart, and whisper, whisper till the brain is all on fire? This thing he didto me, Maggie, nineteen years ago, he whispered--whispered dreadfulthings, and his whisperings were of you!"

"Horrible, Hagar!" exclaimed Maggie. "Leave the devil, and tell me ofyourself. "

"That's it, " answered Hagar. "If I had but left him then, this hourwould never have come to me; but I listened, and when he told me thata handsome, healthy child would be more acceptable to the Conways thana weakly, fretful one--when he said that Hagar Warren's grandchild hadfar better be a lady than a drudge--that no one would ever know it, for none had noticed either--I did it, Maggie Miller; I took you fromthe pine-board cradle where you lay--I dressed you in the other baby'sclothes--I laid you on her pillow--I wrapped her in your coarse whitefrock--I said that she was mine, and Margaret--oh, Heaven! can't yousee it? Don't you know that I, the shriveled, skinny hag who tells youthis, am your own grandmother!"

There was no need for Maggie Miller to answer that appeal. The wordshad burned into her soul--scorching her very life-blood, and maddeningher brain. It was a fearful blow--crushing her at once. She saw itall, understood it all, and knew there was no hope. The family prideat which she had often laughed was strong within her, and could not atonce be rooted out. All the fond household memories, though desecratedand trampled down, were not so soon to be forgotten. She could not ownthat half-crazed woman for her grandmother! As Hagar talked Maggie hadrisen, and now, tall, and erect as the mountain ash which grew on hernative hills, she stood before Hagar, every vestige of color fadedfrom her face, her eyes dark as midnight and glowing like coals ofliving fire, while her hands, locked despairingly together, movedslowly towards Hagar, as if to thrust her aside. 

"Oh, speak again!" she said, "but not the dreadful words you said tome just now. Tell me they are false--say that my father perished inthe storm, that my mother was she who held me on her bosom when shedied--that I--oh, Hagar, I am not--I will not be the creature you sayI am! Speak to me, " she continued; "tell me; is it true?" and in hervoice there was not the olden sound. 

Hoarse--hollow--full of reproachful anguish it seemed; and, bowing herhead in very shame, old Hagar made her answer: "Would to Heaven 'twerenot true--but it is--it is! Kill me, Maggie, " she continued, "strikeme dead, if you will, but take your eyes away! You must not look thusat me, a heartbroken wretch. "

But not of Hagar Warren was Maggie thinking then. The past, thepresent, and the future were all embodied in her thoughts. She hadbeen an intruder all her life; had ruled with a high hand people onwhom she had no claim, and who, had they known her parentage, wouldhave spurned her from them. Theo, whom she had held in her arms sooft, calling her sister and loving her as such, was hers no longer;nor yet the fond woman who had cherished her so tenderly--neither washers; and in fancy she saw the look of scorn upon that woman's facewhen she should hear the tale, for it must be told--and she must tellit, too. She would not be an impostor; and then there flashed upon herthe agonizing thought, before which all else seemed as naught--in theproud heart of Arthur Carrollton was there a place for Hagar Warren'sgrandchild? "No, no, no!" she moaned; and the next moment she lay atHagar's feet, white, rigid, and insensible. 

"She's dead!" cried Hagar; and for one brief instant she hoped that itwas so. 

But not then and there was Margaret to die; and slowly she came backto life, shrinking from the touch of Hagar's hand when she felt it onher brow. 

"There may be some mistake, " she whispered; but Hagar answered, "Thereis none"; at the same time relating so minutely the particulars of thedeception that Maggie was convinced, and, covering her face with herhands, sobbed aloud, while Hagar, sitting by in silence, was nervingherself to tell the rest. 

The sun had set, and the twilight shadows were stealing down uponthem, when, creeping abjectly upon her knees towards the wretchedgirl, she said, "There is more, Maggie, more--I have not told youall. "

But Maggie had heard enough, and, exerting all her strength, shesprang to her feet, while Hagar clutched eagerly at her dress, whichwas wrested from her grasp, as Maggie fled away--away--she knew not, cared not, whither, so that she were beyond the reach of the tremblingvoice which called after her to return. Alone in the deep woods, withthe darkness falling around her, she gave way to the mighty sorrowwhich had come so suddenly upon her. She could not doubt what she hadheard. She knew that it was true, and as proof after proof crowdedupon her, until the chain of evidence was complete, she laid her headupon the rain-wet grass, and shudderingly stopped her ears, to shutout, if possible, the memory of the dreadful words, "I, the shriveled, skinny hag who tells you this, am your own grandmother. " For a longtime she lay there thus, weeping till the fountain of her tears seemeddry; then, weary, faint, and sick, she started for her home. Openingcautiously the outer door, she was gliding up the stairs when MadamConway, entering the hall with a lamp, discovered her, and utteredan exclamation of surprise at the strangeness of her appearance. Herdress, bedraggled and wet, was torn in several places by the brierybushes she had passed; her hair, loosened from its confinement, hungdown her back, while her face was so white and ghastly that MadamConway in much alarm followed her up the stairs, asking what hadhappened. 

"Something dreadful came to me in the woods, " said Maggie; "but Ican't tell you to-night. To-morrow I shall be better--or dead--oh, Iwish I could be dead--before you hate me so, dear grand--No, I didn'tmean that--you aint; forgive me, do;" and sinking to the floor shekissed the very hem of Madam Conway's dress. 

Unable to understand what she meant, Madam Conway divested her of herdamp clothing, and, placing her in bed, sat down beside her, sayinggently, "Can you tell me now what frightened you?"

A faint cry was Maggie's only answer, and taking the lady's handshe laid it upon her forehead, where the drops of perspiration werestanding thickly. All night long Madam Conway sat by her, going onceto communicate with Arthur Carrollton, who, anxious and alarmed, cameoften to the door, asking if she slept. She did sleep at last--afitful feverish sleep; but ever at the sound of Mr. Carrollton's voicea spasm of pain distorted her features, and a low moan came from herlips. Maggie had been terribly excited, and when next morning sheawoke she was parched with burning fever, while her mind at intervalsseemed wandering; and ere two days passed she was raving withdelirium, brought on, the physician said, by some sudden shock, thenature of which no one could even guess. 

For three weeks she hovered between life and death, whispering oftof the horrid shape which had met her in the woods, robbing her ofhappiness and life. Winding her feeble arms around Madam Conway'sneck, she would beg of her most piteously not to cast her off--not tosend her away from the only home she had ever known--"For I couldn'thelp it, " she would say. "I didn't know it, and I've loved you all somuch--so much! Say, grandma, may I call you grandma all the same? Willyou love poor Maggie a little?" and Madam Conway, listening to wordswhose meaning she could not fathom, would answer by laying the achinghead upon her bosom, and trying to soothe the excited girl. Theo, too, was summoned home, but at her Maggie at first refused to look, and, covering her eyes with her hand, she whispered scornfully, "Pinched, and blue, and pale; that's the very look. I couldn't see it when Icalled you sister. "

Then her mood would change, and motioning Theo to her side she wouldsay to her, "Kiss me once, Theo, just as you used to do when I wasMaggie Miller. "

Towards Arthur Carrollton she from the first manifested fear, shuddering whenever he approached her, and still exhibiting signs ofuneasiness if he left her sight. "He hates me, " she said, "hates mefor what I could not help;" and when, as he often did, he came to herbedside, speaking words of love, she would answer mournfully: "Don't, Mr. Carrollton; your pride is stronger than your love. You will hateme when you know all. "

Thus two weeks went by, and then with the first May day reasonreturned again, bringing life and strength to the invalid, and joy tothose who had so anxiously watched over her. Almost her first rationalquestion was for Hagar, asking if she had been there. 

"She is confined to her bed with inflammatory rheumatism, " answeredMadam Conway; "but she inquires for you every day, they say; and oncewhen told you could not live she started to crawl on her hands andknees to see you, but fainted near the gate, and was carried back. "

"Poor old woman!" murmured Maggie, the tears rolling down her cheeks, as she thought how strong must be the love that half-crazed creaturebore her, and how little it was returned, for every feeling of hernature revolted from claiming a near relationship with one whom shehad hitherto regarded as a servant. The secret, too, seemed harder todivulge, and day by day she put it off, saying to them when they askedwhat had so much affected her that she could not tell them yet--shemust wait till she was stronger. 

So Theo went back to Worcester as mystified as ever, and Maggie wasleft much alone with Arthur Carrollton, who strove in various ways towin her from the melancholy into which she had fallen. All day longshe would sit by the open window, seemingly immovable, her large eyes, now intensely black, fixed upon vacancy, and her white face giving nosign of the fierce struggle within, save when Madam Conway, coming toher side, would lay her hand caressingly on her in token of sympathy. Then, indeed, her lips would quiver, and turning her head away, shewould say, "Don't touch me--don't!"

To Arthur Carrollton she would listen with apparent composure, thoughoften as he talked her long, tapering nails left their impress in herflesh, so hard she strove to seem indifferent. Once when they wereleft together alone he drew her to his side, and bending very low, so that his lips almost touched her marble cheek, he told her of hislove, and how full of anguish had been his heart when he thought thatshe would die. 

"But God kindly gave you back to me, " he said; "and now, my preciousMargaret, will you be my wife? Will you go with me to my English home, from which I have tarried now too long because I would not leave you?Will Maggie answer me?" and he folded her lovingly in his arms. 

Oh, how could she tell him No, when every fiber of her heart thrilledwith the answer Yes. She mistook him--mistook the character of ArthurCarrollton, for, though pride was strong within him, he loved thebeautiful girl who lay trembling in his arms better than he loved hispride; and had she told him then who and what she was, he wouldnot have deemed it a disgrace to love a child of Hagar Warren. ButMargaret did not know him, and when he said again, "Will Maggie answerme?" there came from her lips a piteous, wailing cry, and turning herface away she answered mournfully: "No, Mr. Carrollton, no, I cannotbe your wife. It breaks my heart to tell you so; but if you knew whatI know, you would never have spoken to me words of love. You wouldhave rather thrust me from you, for indeed I am unworthy. "

"Don't you love me, Maggie?" Mr. Carrollton said, and in the tones ofhis voice there was so much tenderness that Maggie burst into tears, and, involuntarily resting her head upon his bosom, answered sadly: "Ilove you so much, Arthur Carrollton, that I would die a hundred deathscould that make me worthy of you, as not long ago I thought I was. Butit cannot be. Something terrible has come between us. "

"Tell me what it is. Let me share your sorrow, " he said; but Maggieonly answered: "Not yet, not yet! Let me live where you are a littlelonger. Then I will tell you all, and go away forever. "

This was all the satisfaction he could obtain; but after a time shepromised that if he would not mention the subject to her until thefirst of June, she would then tell him everything; and satisfiedwith a promise which he knew would be kept, Mr. Carrollton waitedimpatiently for the appointed time, while Maggie, too, counted eachsun as it rose and set, bringing nearer and nearer a trial she so muchdreaded. 

CHAPTER XX. 

THE RESULT. 

Two days only remained ere the first of June, and in the solitude ofher chamber Maggie was weeping bitterly. "How can I tell them who Iam?" she thought. "How bear their pitying scorn, when they learn thatshe whom they call Maggie Miller has no right to that name?--thatHagar Warren's blood is flowing in her veins?--and Madam Conway thinksso much of that! Oh, why was Hagar left to do me this great wrong? whydid she take me from the pine-board cradle where she says I lay, andmake me what I was not born to be?" and, falling on her knees, thewretched girl prayed that it might prove a dream from which she wouldere long awake. 

Alas for thee, poor Maggie Miller! It is not a dream, but a sternreality; and you who oft have spurned at birth and family, whymurmur now when both are taken from you? Are you not still thesame, --beautiful, --accomplished, and refined, --and can you ask formore? Strange that theory and practice so seldom should accord. Andyet it was not the degradation which Maggie felt so keenly, it wasrather the loss of love she feared; without that the blood of royaltycould not avail to make her happy. 

Maggie was a warm-hearted girl, and she loved the stately lady she hadbeen wont to call her grandmother with a filial, clinging love whichcould not be severed, and still this love was naught compared to whatshe felt for Arthur Carrollton, and the giving up of him was thehardest part of all. But it must be done, she thought; he had told heronce that were she Hagar Warren's grandchild he should not be ridingwith her--how much less, then, would he make that child his wife! andrather than meet the look of proud disdain on his face when first shestood confessed before him, she resolved to go away where no one hadever heard of her or Hagar Warren. She would leave behind a lettertelling why she went, and commending to Madam Conway's care poorHagar, who had been sorely punished for her sin. "But whither shall Igo, and what shall I do when I get there?" she cried, trembling atthe thoughts of a world of which she knew so little. Then, as sheremembered how many young girls of her age went out as teachers, shedetermined to go at all events. "It will be better than staying herewhere I have no claim, " she thought; and, nerving herself for thetask, she sat down to write the letter which, on the first of June, should tell to Madam Conway and Arthur Carrollton the story of herbirth. 

It was a harder task than she supposed, the writing that farewell, forit seemed like severing every hallowed tie. Three times she wrote "Mydear grandma, " then with a throb of anguish she dashed her pen acrossthe revered name, and wrote simply "Madam Conway. " It was a rambling, impassioned letter, full of tender love--of hope destroyed--of deepdespair--and though it shadowed forth no expectation that Madam Conwayor Mr. Carrollton would ever take her to their hearts again, it beggedof them most touchingly to think sometimes of "Maggie" when she wasgone forever. Hagar was then commended to Madam Conway's forgivenessand care. "She is old, " wrote Maggie, "her life is nearly ended, andif you have in your heart one feeling of pity for her who used to callyou grandma, bestow it, I pray you, on poor old Hagar Warren. "

The letter was finished, and then suddenly remembering Hagar's words, that "all had not been told, " and feeling it her duty to see once morethe woman who had brought her so much sorrow, Maggie stole cautiouslyfrom the house, and was soon walking down the woodland road, slowly, sadly, for the world had changed to her since last she trod that path. Maggie, too, was changed, and when at last she stood before Hagar, whowas now able to sit up, the latter could scarcely recognize in thepale, haggard woman the blooming, merry-hearted girl once known asMaggie Miller. 

"Margaret!" she cried, "you have come again--come to forgive your poorold grand--No, no, " she added, as she saw the look of pain flash overMaggie's face, "I'll never insult you with that name. Only say thatyou forgive me, will you, Miss Margaret?" and the trembling voice waschoked with sobs, while the aged form shook as with a palsied stroke. 

Hagar had been ill. Exposure to the damp air on that memorable nighthad brought on a second severe attack of rheumatism, which had benther nearly double. Anxiety for Margaret, too, had wasted her to askeleton, and her thin, sharp face, now of a corpse-like pallor, contrasted strangely with her eyes, from which the wildness all wasgone. Touched with pity, Maggie drew a chair to her side, and thusreplied: "I do forgive you, Hagar, for I know that what you did wasdone in love; but by telling me what you have you've ruined all myhopes of happiness. In the new scenes to which I go, and the newassociations I shall form, I may become contented with my lot, butnever can I forget that I once was Maggie Miller. "

"Magaret, " gasped Hagar, and in her dim eye there was something of itsolden fire, "if by new associations you mean Henry Warner, it must notbe. Alas, that I should tell this! but Henry is your brother--yourfather's only son. Oh, horror! horror!" and dreading what Margaretwould say, she covered her face with her cramped, distorted hands. 

But Margaret was not so much affected as Hagar had anticipated. Shehad suffered severely, and could not now be greatly moved. There wasan involuntary shudder as she thought of her escape, and then her nextfeeling was one of satisfaction in knowing that she was not quitefriendless and alone, for Henry would protect her, and Rose, indeed, would be to her a sister. 

"Henry Warner my brother!" she exclaimed; "how came you by thisknowledge?" And very briefly Hagar explained to her what she knew, saying that Hester had told her of two young children, but she hadforgotten entirely of their existence, and now that she was remindedof it she could not help fancying that Hester said the stepchild was aboy. But the peddler knew, of course, and she must have forgotten. 

"When the baby they thought was you died, " said Hagar, "I wrote to theminister in Meriden, telling him of it, but I did not sign my name, and I thought that was the last I should ever hear of it. Why don'tyou curse me?" she continued. "Haven't I taken from you your intendedhusband, as well as your name?"

Maggie understood perfectly now why the secret had been revealed, andinvoluntarily she exclaimed, "Oh, had I told you first, this neverneed have been!" and then hurriedly she explained to the repentantHagar how at the very moment when the dread confession was made she, Maggie Miller, was free from Henry Warner. 

From the window Maggie saw in the distance the servant who had chargeof Hagar, and, dreading the presence of a third person, she arose togo. Offering her hand to Hagar, she said: "Good-by. I may never seeyou again, but if I do not, remember that I forgive you freely. "

"You are not going away, Maggie. Oh, are you going away!" and thecrippled arms were stretched imploringly towards Maggie, who answered:"Yes, Hagar, I must go. Honor requires me to tell Madam Conway whoI am, and after that you know that I can not stay. I shall go to mybrother. "

Three times old Hagar essayed to speak, and at last between a whisperand a moan, she found strength to say: "Will you kiss me once, Maggiedarling? 'Twill be something to remember, in the lonesome nights whenI am all alone. Just once, Maggie! Will you?"

Maggie could not refuse, and gliding to the bowed woman's side she putback the soft hair from off the wrinkled brow, and left there token ofher forgiveness. 

 * * * * *

The last May sun had set, and ere the first June morning rose MaggieMiller would be nowhere found in the home her presence had made sobright. Alone, with no eye upon her save that of the Most High, shehad visited the two graves, and, while her heart was bleeding at everypore, had wept her last adieu over the sleeping dust so long heldsacred as her mother's. Then kneeling at the other grave, shemurmured, "Forgive me, Hester Hamilton, if in this parting hour myheart clings most to her whose memory I was first taught to revere;and if in the better world you know and love each other--oh, will bothbless and pity me, poor, wretched Maggie Miller!"

Softly the night air moved through the pine that overshadowed thehumble grave, while the moonlight, flashing from the tall marble, which stood a sentinel over the other mound, bathed Maggie's upturnedface as with a flood of glory, and her throbbing heart grew still asif indeed at that hushed moment the two mothers had come to blesstheir child. The parting with the dead was over, and Margaret satagain in her room, waiting until all was still about the old stonehouse. She did not add to her letter another line telling of herdiscovery, for she did not think of it; her mind was too intent uponescaping unobserved; and when sure the family had retired she movedcautiously down the stairs, noiselessly unlocked the door, and withoutonce daring to look back, lest she should waver in her purpose, shewent forth, heartbroken and alone, from what for eighteen happy yearshad been her home. Very rapidly she proceeded, coming at last to anopen field through which the railroad ran, the depot being nearly aquarter of a mile away. Not until then had she reflected that herappearance at the station at that hour of the night would excitesuspicion, and she was beginning to feel uneasy, when suddenly arounda curve the cars appeared in view. Fearing lest she should be toolate, she quickened her footsteps, when to her great surprise shesaw that the train was stopping! But not for her they waited; in thebright moonlight the engineer had discovered a body lying acrossthe track, and had stopped in time to save the life of a man, who, stupefied with drunkenness, had fallen asleep. The movement startledthe passengers, many of whom alighted and gathered around theinebriate. 

In the meantime Margaret had come near, and, knowing she could notnow reach the depot in time, she mingled unobserved in the crowd, andentering the rear car, took her seat near the door. The train at lastmoved on, and as at the station no one save the agent was in waiting, it is not strange that the conductor passed unheeded the veiled figurewhich in the dark corner sat ready to pay her fare. 

"He will come to me by and by, " thought Maggie, but he did not, andwhen Worcester was reached the fare was still uncollected. Bewilderedand uncertain what to do next, she stepped upon the platform, decidingfinally to remain at the depot until morning, when a train would leavefor Leominster, where she confidently expected to find her brother. Taking a seat in the ladies' room, she abandoned herself to hersorrow, wondering what Theo would say could she see her then. ButTheo, though dreaming it may be of Maggie, dreamed not that she wasnear, and so the night wore on, Margaret sleeping towards daylight, and dreaming, too, of Arthur Carrollton, who she thought had followedher--nay, was bending over her now and whispering in her ear, "Wake, Maggie, wake. "

Starting up, she glanced anxiously around, uttering a faint cry whenshe saw that it was not Arthur Carrollton, but a dark, rough-lookingstranger, who rather rudely asked her where she wished to go. 

"To Leominster, " she answered, turning her face fully towards the man, who became instantly respectful, telling her when the train wouldleave, and saying that she must go to another depot, at the same timeasking if she had not better wait at some hotel. 

But Maggie preferred going at once to the Fitchburg depot, which sheaccordingly did, and drawing her veil over her face, lest some one ofher few acquaintances in the city should recognize her, she sat thereuntil the time appointed for the cars to leave. Then, weary and faint, she entered the train, her spirits in a measure rising as she feltthat she was drawing near to those who would love her for what she wasand not for what she had been. Rose would comfort her, and already herheart bounded with the thought of seeing one whom she believed to beher brother's wife, for Henry had written that ere his homeward voyagewas made Rose would be his bride. 

Ah, Maggie! there is for you a greater happiness in store--not abrother, but a sister--your father's child is there to greet yourcoming. And even at this early hour her snow-white fingers arearranging the fair June blossoms into bouquets, with which she adornsher home, saying to him who hovers at her side that somebody, sheknows not whom, is surely coming to-day; and then, with a blushstealing over her cheek, she adds, "I wish it might be Margaret";while Henry, with a peculiar twist of his comical mouth, winds his armaround her waist, and playfully responds, "Anyone save her. "

CHAPTER XXI. 

THE SISTERS. 

On a cool piazza overlooking a handsome flower garden the breakfasttable was tastefully arranged. It was Rose's idea to have it there, and in her cambric wrapper, her golden curls combed smoothly back, andher blue eyes shining with the light of a new joy, she occupies heraccustomed seat beside one who for several happy weeks has called herhis, loving her more and more each day, and wondering how thoughts ofany other could ever have filled his heart. There was much to be doneabout his home, so long deserted, and as Rose was determined upon atrip to the seaside he had made arrangements to be absent fromhis business for two months or more, and was now enjoying all thehappiness of a quiet, domestic life, free from care of any kind. Hehad heard of Maggie's illness, but she was better now, he supposed, and when Theo hinted vaguely that a marriage between her and ArthurCarrollton was not at all improbable, he hoped it would be so, for theEnglishman, he knew, was far better adapted to Margaret than hehad ever been. Of Theo's hints he was speaking to Rose as they sattogether at breakfast, and she had answered, "It will be a splendidmatch, " when the doorbell rang, and the servant announced, "A lady inthe parlor, who asks for Mr. Warner. "

"I told you someone would come, " said Rose. "Do, pray, see who it is. How does she look, Janet?"

"Tall, white as a ghost, with big black eyes, " was Janet's answer;and, with his curiosity awakened, Henry Warner started for the parlor, Rose following on tiptoe, and listening through the half-closed doorto what their visitor might say. 

Margaret had experienced no difficulty in finding the house of Mrs. Warner, which seemed to her a second Paradise, so beautiful and coolit looked, nestled amid the tall, green forest trees. Everythingaround it betokened the fine taste of its occupants, and Maggie, asshe reflected that she too was nearly connected with this family, felther wounded pride in a measure soothed, for it was surely no disgraceto claim such people as her friends. With a beating heart she rang thebell, asking for Mr. Warner, and now, trembling in every limb, sheawaited his coming. He was not prepared to meet her, and at first hedid not know her, she was so changed; but when, throwing aside herbonnet, she turned her face so that the light from the window oppositeshone fully upon her, he recognized her in a moment, and exclaimed, "Margaret--Margaret Miller! why are you here?"

The words reached Rose's ear, and darting forward she stood withinthe door, just as Margaret, staggering a step or two towards Henry, answered passionately, "I have come to tell you what I myself butrecently have learned"; and wringing her hands despairingly, shecontinued, "I am not Maggie Miller, I am not anybody; I am HagarWarren's grandchild, the child of her daughter and your own father!Oh, Henry, don't you see it? I am your sister. Take me as such, willyou? Love me as such, or I shall surely die. I have nobody now in thewide world but you. They are all gone, all--Madam Conway, Theo too, and--and--" She could not speak that name. It died upon her lips, andtottering to a chair she would have fallen had not Henry caught her inhis arms. 

Leading her to the sofa, while Rose, perfectly confounded, still stoodwithin the door, he said to the half-crazed girl: "Margaret, I do notunderstand you. I never had a sister, and my father died when I wassix months old. There must be some mistake. Will you tell me what youmean?"

Bewildered and perplexed, Margaret began a hasty repetition of Hagar'sstory, but ere it was three-fourths told there came from the open doora wild cry of delight, and quick as lightning a fairy form flew acrossthe floor, white arms were twined round Maggie's neck, kiss after kisswas pressed upon her lips, and Rose's voice was in her ear, neverbefore half so sweet as now, when it murmured soft and low to theweary girl: "My sister Maggie--mine you are--the child of my ownfather, for I was Rose Hamilton, called Warner, first to please myaunt, and next to please my Henry. Oh, Maggie darling, I am so happynow!" and the little snowy hands smoothed caressingly the bands ofhair, so unlike her own fair waving tresses. 

It was, indeed, a time of almost perfect bliss to them all, and fora moment Margaret forgot her pain, which, had Hagar known the truth, need not have come to her. But she scarcely regretted it now, when shefelt Rose Warner's heart throbbing against her own, and knew theirfather was the same. 

"You are tired, " Rose said, at length, when much had been said byboth. "You must have rest, and then I will bring to you my aunt, ouraunt, Maggie--our father's sister. She has been a mother to me. She will be one to you. But stay, " she continued, "you have had nobreakfast. I will bring you some, " and she tripped lightly from theroom. 

Maggie followed her with swimming eyes, then turning to Henry shesaid, "You are very happy, I am sure. "

"Yes, very, " he answered, coming to her side. "Happy in my wife, happyin my newly found sister, " and he laid his hand on hers with somethingof his former familiarity. 

But the olden feeling was gone, and Maggie could now meet his glancewithout a blush, while he could talk with her as calmly as if shehad never been aught to him save the sister of his wife. Thus oftenchangeth the human heart's first love. 

After a time Rose returned, bearing a silver tray heaped with the mosttempting viands: but Maggie's heart was too full to eat, and afterdrinking a cup of the fragrant black tea, which Rose herself had made, she laid her head upon the pillow which Henry brought, and, with Rosesitting by, holding lovingly her hand, she fell into a quiet slumber. For several hours she slept, and when she awoke at last the sun wasshining in at the western window, casting over the floor a glimmeringlight, and reminding her so forcibly of the dancing shadows on thegrass which grew around the old stone house that her eyes filled withtears, and, thinking herself alone, she murmured, "Will it never be myhome again?"

A sudden movement, the rustling of a dress, startled her, and liftingup her head she saw standing near a pleasant-looking, middle-agedwoman, who, she rightly guessed, was Mrs. Warner, her own aunt. 

"Maggie, " the lady said, laying her hand on the fevered brow, "I haveheard a strange tale to-day. Heretofore I had supposed Rose to be myonly child, but though you take me by surprise you are not the lesswelcome. There is room in my heart for you, Maggie Miller, room forthe youngest-born of my only brother. You are somewhat like him, too, "she continued, "though more like your mother;" and with the mention ofthat name a flush stole over the lady's face, for she, too, was veryproud, and her brother's marriage with a servant girl had never beenquite forgiven. 

Mrs. Warner had seen much of the world, and Maggie knew her to be awoman of refinement, a woman of whom even Madam Conway would not beashamed; and, winding her arms around her neck, she said impulsively, "I am glad you are my aunt; and you will love me, I am sure, even if Iam poor Hagar's grandchild. "

Mrs. Warner knew nothing of Hagar save from Henry's amusingdescription, the entire truth of which she somewhat doubted; but sheknew that whatever Hagar Warren might be, the beautiful girl beforeher was not answerable for it, and very kindly she tried to sootheher, telling her how happy they would be together. "Rose will leave mein the autumn, " she said, "and without you I should be all alone. " OfHagar, too, she spoke kindly and considerately, and Maggie, listeningto her, felt somewhat reconciled to the fate which had made her whatshe was. Still, there was much of pride to overcome ere she couldcalmly think of herself as other than Madam Conway's grandchild; andwhen that afternoon, as Henry and Rose were sitting with her, thelatter spoke of her mother, saying she had a faint remembrance of atall, handsome girl who sang her to sleep on the night when her ownmother died, there came a visible shadow over Maggie's face, andinstantly changing the conversation she asked why Henry had never toldher anything definite concerning himself and family. 

For a moment Henry seemed embarrassed. Both the Hamiltons and theWarners were very aristocratic in their feelings, and by mutualconsent the name of Hester Warren was by them seldom spoken. Consequently, if there existed a reason for Henry's silence withregard to his own and Rose's history, it was that he disliked bringingup a subject he had been taught to avoid, both by his aunt and themother of Mr. Hamilton, who for several years after her son's deathhad lived with her daughter in Leominster, where she finally died. This, however, he could not say to Margaret, and after a littlehesitancy he answered laughingly, "You never asked me for anyparticulars; and, then, you know, I was more agreeably occupied than Ishould have been had I spent my time in enlightening you with regardto our genealogy"; and the saucy mouth smiled archly, first onRose, and then on Margaret, both of whom blushed slightly, the onesuspecting he had not told her the whole truth, and the other knowinghe had not. 

Very considerate was Rose of Maggie's feelings and not again thatafternoon did she speak of Hester, though she talked much of theirfather; and Margaret, listening to his praises, felt herselfinsensibly drawn towards this new claimant for her filial love. "Iwish I could have seen him, " she said; and, starting to her feet, Roseanswered: "Strange I did not think of it before. We have his portrait. Come this way, " and she led the half-unwilling Maggie into anadjoining room, where from the wall a portly, good-humored-looking mangazed down upon the sisters, his eyes seeming to rest with mournfultenderness on the face of her whom in life they had not looked upon. He seemed older than Maggie had supposed, and the hair upon his headwas white, reminding her of Hagar. But she did not for this turn awayfrom him. There was something pleasing in the mild expression of hisface, and she whispered faintly, "'Tis my father. "

On the right of this portrait was another, the picture of a woman, inwhose curling lip and soft brown eyes Maggie recognized the mother ofHenry. To the left was another still, and she gazed upon the angelface, with eyes of violet blue, and hair of golden brown, on which thefading sunlight now was falling, encircling it as it were with a haloof glory. 

"You are much like her, " she said to Rose, who made no answer, for shewas thinking of another picture, which years before had been banishedto the garret by her haughty grandmother, as unworthy a place besidehim who had petted and caressed the young girl of plebeian birth andkindred. 

"I can make amends for it, though, " thought Rose, returning withMaggie to the parlor. Then, seeking out her husband, she held with hima whispered consultation, the result of which was that on the morrowthere was a rummaging in the garret, an absence from home for anhour or two, and when about noon she returned there was a pleasedexpression on her face, as if she had accomplished her purpose, whatever it might have been. 

All that morning Maggie had been restless and uneasy, wanderinglistlessly from room to room, looking anxiously down the street, starting nervously at the sound of every footstep, while her cheeksalternately flushed and then grew pale as the day passed on. Dinnerbeing over she sat alone in the parlor, her eyes fixed upon thecarpet, and her thoughts away with one who she vaguely hoped wouldhave followed her ere this. True, she had added no postscript to tellhim of her new discovery; but Hagar knew, and he would go to her for aconfirmation of the letter. She would tell him where Maggie wasgone, and he, if his love could survive that shock, would follow herthither; nay, would be there that very day, and Maggie's heart grewwearier, fainter, as time wore on and he did not come. "I might haveknown it, " she whispered sadly. "I knew that he would nevermore thinkof me, " and she wept silently over her ruined love. 

"Maggie, sister, " came to her ear, and Rose was at her side. "I have asurprise for you, darling. Can you bear it now?"

Oh, how eagerly poor Maggie Miller looked up in Rose's face! The carwhistle had sounded half an hour before. Could it be that he had come?Was he there? Did he love her still? No, Maggie, no; the surpriseawaiting you is of a far different nature, and the tears flow afreshwhen Rose, in reply to the question "What is it, darling?" answers, "It is this, " at the same time placing in Maggie's hand an ambrotypewhich she bade her examine. With a feeling of keen disappointmentMaggie opened the casing, involuntarily shutting her eyes as if togather strength for what she was to see. 

It was a young face--a handsome face--a face much like her own, whilein the curve of the upper lip and the expression of the large blackeyes there was a look like Hagar Warren. They had met together thus, the one a living reality, the other a semblance of the dead, and shewho held that picture trembled violently. There was a fierce strugglewithin, the wildly beating heart throbbing for one moment with anewborn love, and then rebelling against taking that shadow, beautifulthough it was, in place of her whose memory she had so long revered. 

"Who is it, Maggie?" Rose asked, leaning over her shoulder. 

Maggie knew full well whose face it was she looked upon, but not yetcould she speak that name so interwoven with memories of another, andshe answered mournfully, "It is Hester Hamilton. "

"Yes, Margaret, your mother, " said Rose. "I never called her by thatname, but I respect her for your sake. She was my father's pet, soit has been said, for he was comparatively old, and she his younggirl-wife. "

"Where did you get this?" Maggie asked; and, coloring crimson, Rosereplied, "We have always had her portrait, but grandmother, who wasvery old and foolishly proud about some things, was offended at ourfather's last marriage, and when after his death the portraits werebrought here, she--Forgive her, Maggie--she did not know you, or shewould not have done it--"

"I know, " interrupted Maggie. "She despised this Hester Warren, andconsigned her portrait to some spot from which you have brought it andhad this taken from it. "

"Not despised her!" cried Rose, in great distress, as she saw a darkexpression stealing over the face of Maggie, in whose heart a chord ofsympathy had been struck when she thought of her mother banished fromher father's side. "Grandma could not despise her, " continued Rose;"she was so good, so beautiful. "

"Yes, she was beautiful, " murmured Maggie, gazing earnestly upon thefair, round face, the soft, black eyes, and raven hair of her who foryears had slept beneath the shadow of the Hillsdale woods. "Oh, I wishI were dead like her!" she exclaimed at last, closing the ambrotypeand laying it upon the table. "I wish I was lying in that little gravein the place of her who should have borne my name, and been what Ionce was;" and bowing her face upon her hands she wept bitterly, whileRose tried in vain to comfort her. "I am not sorry you are my sister, "sobbed Margaret through her tears. "That's the only comfort I haveleft me now; but, Rose, I love Arthur Carrollton so much--oh, so much, and how can I give him up!"

"If he is the noble, true-hearted man he looks to be, he will not giveyou up, " answered Rose, and then for the first time since this meetingshe questioned Margaret concerning Mr. Carrollton and the relationsexisting between them. "He will not cast you off, " she said, whenMargaret had told her all she had to tell. "He may be proud, but hewill cling to you still. He will follow you, too--not to-day, perhaps, nor to-morrow, but ere long he will surely come;" and, listening toher sister's cheering words, Maggie herself grew hopeful, and thatevening talked animatedly with Henry and Rose of a trip to the seasidethat they were intending to make. "You will go, too, Maggie, " saidRose, caressing her sister's pale cheek, and whispering in her ear, "Aunt Susan will be here to tell Mr. Carrollton where you are, if hedoes not come before we go, which I am sure he will. "

Maggie tried to think so too, and her sleep that night was sweeterthan it had been before for many weeks--but the next day came, and thenext, and Maggie's eyes grew dim with watching and with tears, for upand down the road, as far as she could see, there came no trace of himfor whom she waited. 

"I might have known it; it was foolish of me to think otherwise, " shesighed; and, turning sadly from the window where all the afternoon shehad been sitting, she laid her head wearily upon the lap of Rose. 

"Maggie, " said Henry, "I am going to Worcester to-morrow, and perhapsGeorge can tell me something of Mr. Carrollton. "

For a moment Maggie's heart throbbed with delight at the thought ofhearing from him, even though she heard that he would leave her. Butanon her pride rose strong within her. She had told Hagar twice ofher destination, Hagar had told him, and if he chose he would havefollowed her ere this; so somewhat bitterly she said: "Don't speak toGeorge of me. Don't tell him I am here. Promise me, will you?"

The promise was given, and the next morning, which was Saturday, Henrystarted for Worcester on the early train. The day seemed long toMaggie, and when at nightfall he came to them again it was difficultto tell which was the more pleased at his return, Margaret or Rose. 

"Did you see Theo?" asked the former; and Henry replied: "George toldme she had gone to Hillsdale. Madam Conway is very sick. "

"For me! for me! She's sick with mourning for me!" cried Maggie. "Darling grandma! she does love me still, and I will go home to her atonce. "

Then the painful thought rushed over her: "If she wished for me, shewould send. It's the humiliation, not the love, that makes her sick. They have cast me off--grandma, Theo, all, all!" and, sinking upon thelounge, she wept aloud. 

"Margaret, " said Henry, coming to her side, "but for my promiseI should have talked to George of you, for there was a troubledexpression on his face when he asked me if I had heard fromHillsdale. "

"What did you say?" asked Maggie, holding her breath to catch theanswer, which was, "I told him you had not written to me since myreturn from Cuba, and then he looked as if he would say more, but acustomer called him away, and our conversation was not resumed. "

For a moment Maggie was silent. Then she said: "I am glad you did notintrude me upon him. If Theo has gone to Hillsdale, she knows thatI am here, and does not care to follow me. It is the disgrace thattroubles them, not the losing me!" and again burying her head in thecushions of the lounge, she wept bitterly. It was useless for Henryand Rose to try to comfort her, telling her it was possible that Hagarhad told nothing. "And if so, " said Henry, "you well know that I amthe last one to whom you would be expected to flee for protection. "Margaret would not listen. She was resolved upon being unhappy, andduring the long hours of that night she tossed wakefully upon herpillow, and when the morning came she was too weak to rise; so shekept her room, listening to the music of the Sabbath bells, which toher seemed sadly saying, "Home, home. " "Alas! I have no home, " shesaid, turning away to weep, for in the tolling of those bells therecame to her no voice whispering of the darkness, the desolation, andthe sorrow that were in the home for which she so much mourned. 

Thus the day wore on, and ere another week was gone Rose insisted upona speedy removal to the seashore, notwithstanding it was so early inthe season, for by this means she hoped that Maggie's health would beimproved. Accordingly, Henry went once more to Worcester, ostensiblyfor money, but really to see if George Douglas now would speak to himof Margaret. But George was in New York, they said; and, somewhatdisappointed, Henry went back to Leominster, where everything wasin readiness for their journey. Monday was fixed upon for theirdeparture, and at an early hour Margaret looked back on what hadbeen to her a second home, smiling faintly as Rose whispered to hercheerily, "I have a strong presentiment that somewhere in our travelswe shall meet with Arthur Carrollton. "

CHAPTER XXII. 

THE HOUSE OF MOURNING. 

Come now over the hills to the westward. Come to the Hillsdale woods, to the stone house by the mill, where all the day long there is heardbut one name, the servants breathing it softly and low, as if she whohad borne it were dead, the sister, dim-eyed now, and paler faced, whispering it oft to herself, while the lady, so haughty and proud, repeats it again and again, shuddering as naught but the echoing wallsreply to the heartbroken cry of, "Margaret, Margaret, where are younow?"

Yes, there was mourning in that household--mourning for the lost one, the darling, the pet of them all. 

Brightly had the sun arisen on that June morning which brought to themtheir sorrow, while the birds in the tall forest trees caroled asgayly as if no storm-cloud were hovering near. At an early hour Mr. Carrollton had arisen, thinking, as he looked forth from his window, "She will tell me all to-day, " and smiling as he thought how easy andpleasant would be the task of winning her back to her olden gayety. Madam Conway, too, was unusually excited, and very anxiously shelistened for the first sound of Maggie's footsteps on the stairs. 

"She sleeps late, " she thought, when breakfast was announced, andtaking her accustomed seat she bade a servant see if Margaret wereill. 

"She is not there, " was the report the girl brought back. 

"Not there!" cried Mr. Carrollton. 

"Not there!" repeated Madam Conway, a shadowy foreboding of evilstealing over her. "She seldom walks at this early hour, " shecontinued; and, rising, she went herself to Margaret's room. 

Everything was in perfect order, the bed was undisturbed, the chamberempty; Margaret was gone, and on the dressing-table lay the fatalletter telling why she went. At first Madam Conway did not see it; butit soon caught her eye, and tremblingly she opened it, reading but thefirst line, "I am going away forever. "

Then a loud shriek rang through the silent room, penetrating to ArthurCarrollton's listening ear, and bringing him at once to her side. Withthe letter still in her hand, and her face of a deathly hue, and hereyes flashing with fear, Madam Conway turned to him as he entered, saying, "Margaret has gone, left us forever--killed herself it may be!Read!" And she handed him the letter, herself bending eagerly forwardto hear what he might say. 

But she listened in vain. With lightning rapidity Arthur Carrolltonread what Maggie had written--read that she, his idol, the chosenbride of his bosom, was the daughter of a servant, the grandchild ofold Hagar! And for this she had fled from his presence, fled becauseshe knew of the mighty pride which now, in the first bitter momentof his agony, did indeed rise up, a barrier between himself and thebeautiful girl he loved so well. Had she lain dead before him, deadin all her youthful beauty, he could have folded her in his arms, andthen buried her from his sight, with a feeling of perfect happinesscompared to that which he now felt. 

"Oh, Maggie, my lost one, can it be!" he whispered to himself, andpressing his hand upon his chest, which heaved with strong emotion, hestaggered to a seat, while the perspiration stood in beaded drops uponhis forehead and around his lips. 

"What is it, Mr. Carrollton? 'Tis something dreadful, sure, " said Mrs. Jeffrey, appearing in the door, but Madam Conway motioned her away, and, tottering to his side, said, "Read it to me--read. "

The Sound of her voice recalled his wandering mind, and covering hisface with his hands he moaned in anguish; then, growing suddenly calm, he snatched up the letter, which had fallen to the floor, and read italoud; while Madam Conway, stupefied with horror, sank at his feet, and clasping her hands above her head, rocked to and fro, but made noword of comment. Far down the long ago her thoughts were straying, andgathering up many bygone scenes which told her that what she heard wastrue. 

"Yes, 'tis true, " she groaned; and then, powerless to speak anotherword, she laid her head upon a chair, while Mr. Carrollton, preferringto be alone, sought the solitude of his own room, where unobservedhe could wrestle with his sorrow and conquer his inborn pride, whichwhispered to him that a Carrollton must not wed a bride so far beneathhim. 

Only a moment, though, and then the love he bore for Maggie Millerrolled back upon him with an overwhelming power, while his betterjudgment, with that love, came hand in hand, pleading for the fairyoung girl, who, now that he had lost her, seemed a thousandfolddearer than before. But he had not lost her; he would find her. Shewas Maggie Miller still to him, and though old Hagar's blood were inher veins he would not give her up. This resolution once made, itcould not be shaken, and when half an hour or more was passed hewalked with firm, unfaltering footsteps back to the apartment whereMadam Conway still sat upon the floor, her head resting upon thechair, and her frame convulsed with grief. 

Her struggle had been a terrible one, and it was not over yet, forwith her it was more than a matter of pride and love. Her daughter'srights had been set at naught; a wrong had been done to the dead; thechild who slept beneath the pine had been neglected; nay, in life, hadbeen, perhaps, despised for an intruder, for one who had no right tocall her grandmother; and shudderingly she cried, "Why was it sufferedthus to be?" Then as she thought of white-haired Hagar Warren, sheraised her hand to curse her, but the words died on her lips, forHagar's deed had brought to her much joy; and now, as she rememberedthe bounding step, the merry laugh, the sunny face, and loving wordswhich had made her later years so happy, she involuntarily stretchedout her arms in empty air, moaning sadly: "I want her here. I wanther now, just as she used to be. " Then, over the grave of her burieddaughter, over the grave of the sickly child, whose thin, blue facecame up before her just as it lay in its humble coffin, over thedeception of eighteen years, her heart bounded with one wild, yearningthrob, for every bleeding fiber clung with a deathlike grasp to herwho had been so suddenly taken from her. "I love her still!" shecried; "but can I take her back?" And then commenced the fierceststruggle of all, the battling of love and pride, the one rebellingagainst the child of Hagar Warren, and the other clamoring loudly thatwithout that child the world to her was nothing. It was the hour ofMadam Conway's humiliation, and in bitterness of spirit she groaned:"That I should come to this! Theo first, and Margaret, my bright, mybeautiful Margaret, next! Oh, how can I give her up when I loved herbest of all--best of all!"

This was true, for all the deeper, stronger love of Madam Conway'snature had gone forth to the merry, gleeful girl whose graceful, independent bearing she had so often likened to herself and thehaughty race with which she claimed relationship. How was thisillusion dispelled! Margaret was not a Conway, nor yet a Davenport. Aservant-girl had been her mother, and of her father there was nothingknown. Madam Conway was one who seldom wept for grief. She had stoodcalmly at the bedside of her dying husband, had buried her onlydaughter from her sight, had met with many reverses, and shed forall no tears, but now they fell like rain upon her face, burning, blistering as they fell, but bringing no relief. 

"I shall miss her in the morning, " she cried, "miss her at noon, miss her in the lonesome nights, miss her everywhere--oh, Margaret, Margaret, 'tis more than I can bear! Come back to me now, just as youare. I want you here--here where the pain is hardest, " and she claspedher arms tightly over her heaving bosom. Then her pride returnedagain, and with it came thoughts of Arthur Carrollton. He would scoffat her as weak and sentimental; he would never take beyond the sea abride of "Hagarish" birth; and duty demanded that she too should befirm, and sanction his decision. "But when he's gone, " she whispered, "when he has left America behind, I'll find her, if my life is spared. I'll find poor Margaret, and see that she does not want, though I mustnot take her back. "

This resolution, however, did not bring her comfort, and the handspressed so convulsively upon her side could not ease her pain. Surelynever before had so dark an hour infolded that haughty woman, and aprayer that she might die was trembling on her lips when a footfallechoed along the hall, and Arthur Carrollton stood before her. Hisface was very pale, bearing marks of the storm he had passed through;but he was calm, and his voice was natural as he said: "Possibly whatwe have heard is false. It may be a vagary of Hagar's half-crazedbrain. "

For an instant Madam Conway had hoped so too; but when she reflected, she knew that it was true. Old Hagar had been very minute in herexplanations to Margaret, who in turn had written exactly what she hadheard, and Madam Conway, when she recalled the past, could have nodoubt that it was true. She remembered everything, but more distinctlythe change of dress at the time of the baptism. There could be nomistake. Margaret was not hers, and so she said to Arthur Carrollton, turning her head away as if she too were in some way answerable forthe disgrace. 

"It matters not, " he replied, "whose she has been. She is mine now, and if you feel able we will consult together as to the surest methodof finding her. " A sudden faintness came over Madam Conway, and, whilethe expression of her face changed to one of joyful surprise, shestammered out: "Can it be I hear aright? Do I understand you? Are youwilling to take poor Maggie back?"

"I certainly have no other intention, " he answered. "There was amoment, the memory of which makes me ashamed, when my pride rebelled;but it is over now, and though Maggie cannot in reality be again yourchild, she can be my wife, and I must find her. "

"You make me so happy--oh, so happy!" said Madam Conway. "I feared youwould cast her off, and in that case it would have been my duty to doso too, though I never loved a human being as at this moment I loveher. "

Mr. Carrollton looked as if he did not fully comprehend the woman who, loving Margaret as she said she did, could yet be so dependent uponhis decision; but he made no comment, and when next he spoke heannounced his intention of calling upon Hagar, who possibly couldtell him where Margaret had gone. "At all events, " said he, "I mayascertain why the secret, so long kept, was at this late day divulged. It may be well, " he continued, "to say nothing to the servants as yet, save that Maggie has gone. Mrs. Jeffrey, however, had better be letinto the secret at once. We can trust her, I think. "

Madam Conway bowed, and Mr. Carrollton left the room, startingimmediately for the cottage by the mine. As he approached the house hesaw the servant who for several weeks had been staying there, and whonow came out to meet him, telling him that since the night beforeHagar had been raving crazy, talking continually of Maggie, who, shesaid, had gone where none would ever find her. 

In some anxiety Mr. Carrollton pressed on, until the cottage door wasreached, where for a moment he stood gazing silently upon the poorwoman before him. Upon the bed, her white hair falling over her round, bent shoulders, and her large eyes shining with delirious light, oldHagar sat, waving back and forth, and talking of Margaret, of Hester, and "the little foolish child, " who, with a sneer upon her lip, shesaid, "was a fair specimen of the Conway race. "

"Hagar, " said Mr. Carrollton; and at the sound of that voice Hagarturned toward him her flashing eyes, then with a scream buried herhead in the bedclothes, saying: "Go away, Arthur Carrollton! Why areyou here? Don't you know who I am? Don't you know what Margaret is, and don't you know how proud you are?"

"Hagar, " he said again, subduing, by a strong effort, the repugnancehe felt at questioning her, "I know all, except where Margaret hasgone, and if on this point you can give me any information, I shallreceive it most thankfully. "

"Gone!" shrieked Hagar, starting up in bed; "then she has gone. Theplay is played out, the performance is ended--and I have sinned fornothing!"

"Hagar, will you tell me where Maggie is? I wish to follow her, " saidMr. Carrollton; and Hagar answered: "Maggie, Maggie--he said thatlovingly enough, but there's a catch somewhere. He does not wish tofollow her for any good--and though I know where she has gone I'llsurely never tell. I kept one secret nineteen years. I can keepanother as long"; and, folding her arms upon her chest, she commencedsinging, "I know full well, but I'll never tell. "

Biting his lips with vexation, Mr. Carrollton tried first bypersuasion, then by flattery, and lastly by threats, to obtain fromher the desired information, but in vain. Her only answer was, "I knowfull well, but I'll never tell, " save once, when tossing towards himher long white hair, she shrieked: "Don't you see a resemblance--onlyhers is black--and so was mine nineteen years ago--and so was Hester'stoo--glossy and black as the raven's wing. The child is like themother--the mother was like the grandmother, and the grandmother islike--me, Hagar Warren. Do you understand?"

Mr. Carrollton made no answer, and with a feeling of disappointmentwalked away, shuddering as he thought, "And she is Margaret'sgrandmother. "

He found Madam Conway in hysterics on Margaret's bed, for she hadrefused to leave the room, saying she would die there, or nowhere. Gradually the reality of her loss had burst upon her, and now, gasping, choking, and wringing her hands, she lay upon the pillows, while Mrs. Jeffrey, worked up to a pitch of great nervous excitement, fidgeted hither and thither, doing always the wrong thing, fanning thelady when she did not wish to be fanned, and ceasing to fan her justwhen she was "dying for want of air. "

As yet Mrs. Jeffrey knew nothing definite, except that somethingdreadful had happened to Margaret; but very candidly Mr. Carrolltontold her all, bidding her keep silent on the subject; then, turning toMadam Conway, he repeated to her the result of his call on old Hagar. 

"The wretch!" gasped Madam Conway, while Mrs. Jeffrey, running in herfright from the window to the door, and from the door back to thewindow again, exclaimed: "Margaret not a Conway, nor yet a Davenport, after all! It is just what I expected. I always knew she came honestlyby those low-bred ways!"

"Jeffrey, " and the voice of the hysterical woman on the bed wasloud and distinct, as she grasped the arm of the terrified littlegoverness, who chanced to be within her reach. "Jeffrey, either leavemy house at once, or speak more deferentially of Miss Miller. Youwill call her by that name, too. It matters not to Mr. Carrollton andmyself whose child she has been. She is ours now, and must be treatedwith respect. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am, " meekly answered Jeffrey, rubbing her dumpy arm, whichbore the mark of a thumb and finger, and as her services were not justthen required she glided from the room to drown, if possible, hergrievance in the leather-bound London edition of Baxter!

Meanwhile Madam Conway was consulting with Mr. Carrollton as to thebest mode of finding Margaret. "She took the cars, of course, " saidMr. Carrollton, adding that he should go at once to the depot andascertain which way she went. "If I do not return to-night you neednot be alarmed, " he said, as he was leaving the room, whereupon MadamConway called him back, bidding him telegraph for Theo at once, as shemust have someone with her besides that vexatious Jeffrey. 

Mr. Carrollton promised compliance with her request, and then wentimmediately to the depot, where he learned that no one had entered thecars from that place on the previous night, and that Maggie, if shetook the train at all, must have done so at some other station. Thiswas not unlikely, and before the day was passed Mr. Carrollton hadvisited several different stations, and had talked with the conductorsof the several trains, but all to no purpose; and, very muchdisheartened, he returned at nightfall to the old stone house, whereto his surprise he found both Theo and her husband. The telegram haddone its mission, and feeling anxious to know the worst George hadcome up with Theo to spend the night. It was the first time that MadamConway had seen him since her memorable encounter with his mother, for though Theo had more than once been home, he had never beforeaccompanied her, and now when Madam Conway heard his voice in the hallbelow she groaned afresh. The sight of his good-humored face, however, and his kind offer to do whatever he could to find the fugitive, restored her composure in a measure, and she partially forgot that hewas in any way connected with the blue umbrella, or the blue umbrellaconnected with him! Never in her life had Theo felt very deeply uponany subject, and now, though she seemed bewildered at what she heard, she manifested no particular emotion, until her grandmother, wringingher hands, exclaimed, "You have no sister now, my child, and I noMargaret!" Then, indeed, her tears flowed, and when her husbandwhispered to her, "We will love poor Maggie all the same, " she criedaloud, but not quite as demonstratively as Madam Conway wished; and, in a very unamiable frame of mind, the old lady accused her of beingselfish and hard-hearted. 

At this stage of proceedings Mr. Carrollton returned, bringing notidings of Maggie, whereupon another fit of hysterics ensued, and asTheo behaved much worse than Mrs. Jeffrey had done, the latter wasfinally summoned again to the sickroom, and at last succeeded inquieting the excited woman. The next morning George Douglas visitedold Hagar, but he too was unsuccessful, and that afternoon he returnedto Worcester, leaving Theo with her grandmother, who, though findingfault with whatever she did, refused to let her go until Margaret wasfound. 

During the remainder of the week Mr. Carrollton rode through thecountry, making the most minute inquiries, and receiving always thesame discouraging answer. Once he thought to advertise, but frommaking the affair thus public he instinctively shrank, and, resolvingto spare neither his time, his money, nor his health, he pursued hisweary way alone. Once, too, Madam Conway spoke of Henry Warner, sayingit was possible Maggie might have gone to him, as she had thought somuch of Rose; but Mr. Carrollton "knew better. " A discarded lover, he said, was the last person in the world to whom a young girl likeMargaret would go, particularly as Theo had said that Henry was nowthe husband of another. 

Still the suggestion haunted him, and on the Monday following HenryWarner's first visit to Worcester, he, too, went down to talk with Mr. Douglas, asking him if it were possible that Maggie was in Leominster. 

"I know she is not, " said George, repeating the particulars of hisinterview with Henry, who, he said, was at the store on Saturday. "Once I thought of telling him all, " said he, "and then, consideringthe relation which formerly existed between them, I concluded to keepsilent, especially as he manifested no desire to speak of her, but appeared, I fancied, quite uneasy when I casually mentionedHillsdale. "

Thus was that matter decided, and while not many miles away Maggiewas watching hopelessly for the coming of Arthur Carrollton, he, withGeorge Douglas, was devising the best means for finding her, Georgegenerously offering to assist in the search, and suggesting finallythat he should himself go to New York City, while Mr. Carrolltonexplored Boston and its vicinity. It seemed quite probable thatMargaret would seek some of the large cities, as in her letter shehad said she could earn her livelihood by teaching music; and quitehopeful of success, the young men parted, Mr. Carrollton goingimmediately to Boston, while Mr. Douglas, after a day or two, startedfor New York, whither, as the reader will remember, he had gone at thetime of Henry's last visit to Worcester. 

Here for a time we leave them, Hagar raving mad, Madam Conway instrong hysterics, Theo wishing herself anywhere but at Hillsdale, Mrs. Jeffrey ditto, George Douglas threading the crowded streets of thenoisy city, and Mr. Carrollton in Boston, growing paler and sadder asday after day passed by, bringing him no trace of the lost one. Here, I say, we leave them, while in another chapter we follow the footstepsof her for whom this search was made. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

NIAGARA. 

From the seaside to the mountains, from the mountains to Saratoga, from Saratoga to Montreal, from Montreal to the Thousand Isles, and thence they scarce knew where, the travelers wended their way, stopping not long at any place, for Margaret was ever seeking change. Greatly had she been admired, her pale, beautiful face attractingattention at once; but from all flattery she turned away, saying toHenry and Rose, "Let us go on. "

So onward still they went, pausing longest at Montreal, for it wasthere Arthur Carrollton had been, there a part of his possessionslay, and there Margaret willingly lingered, even after her companionswished to be gone. 

"He may be here again, " she said; and so she waited and watched, scanning eagerly the passers-by, and noticing each new face as itappeared at the table of the hotel where they were staying. But theone she waited for never came. "And even if he does, " she thought, "hewill not come for me. "

So she signified her willingness to depart, and early one bright Julymorning she left, while the singing birds from the treetops, thesummer air from the Canada hills, and, more than all, a warning voicewithin her, bade her "Tarry yet a little, stay till the sun wasset, " for far out in the country, and many miles away, a train wasthundering on. It would reach the city at nightfall, and among itsjaded passengers was a worn and weary man. Hopeless, almost aimlessnow, he would come, and why he came he scarcely knew. "She would notbe there, so far from home, " he felt sure, but he was coming for thesake of what he hoped and feared when last he trod those streets. Listlessly he entered the same hotel from whose windows, for five longdays, a fair young face had looked for him. Listlessly heregistered his name, then carelessly turned the leavesbackward--backward--backward still, till only one remained between hishand and the page bearing date five days before. He paused and wasabout to move away, when a sudden breeze from the open window turnedthe remaining leaf, and his eye caught the name, not of Maggie Miller, but of "Henry Warner, lady, and sister. "

Thus it stood, and thus he repeated it to himself, dwelling upon thelast word "sister, " as if to him it had another meaning. He had heardfrom Madam Conway that neither Henry Warner nor Rose had a sister, butshe might be mistaken; probably she was; and dismissing the subjectfrom his mind, he walked away. Still the names haunted him, andthinking at last that if Mr. Warner were now in Montreal he wouldlike to see him, he returned to the office, asking the clerk if theoccupants of Nos. ---- were there still. 

"Left this morning for the Falls, " was the laconic answer; and, without knowing why he should particularly wish to do so, Mr. Carrollton resolved to follow them. 

He would as soon be at the Falls as in Montreal, he thought. Accordingly he left the next morning for Niagara, taking the shortestroute by river and lake, and arriving there on the evening of thesecond day after his departure from the city. But nowhere could atrace be found of Henry Warner, and determining now to wait until hecame Mr. Carrollton took rooms at the International, where after a dayor two, worn out with travel, excitement, and hope deferred, he becameseverely indisposed, and took his bed, forgetting entirely both HenryWarner and the sister, whose name he had seen upon the hotel register. Thoughts of Maggie Miller, however, were constantly in his mind, andwhether waking or asleep he saw always her face, sometimes radiantwith healthful beauty, as when he first beheld her, and again, pale, troubled, and sad, as when he saw her last. 

"Oh, shall I ever find her?" he would sometimes say, as in the dimtwilight he lay listening to the noisy hum which came up from thepublic room below. 

And once, as he lay there thus, he dreamed, and in his dreams therecame through the open window a clear, silvery voice, breathing theloved name of Maggie. Again he heard it on the stairs, then littletripping feet went past his door, followed by a slow, languid tread, and with a nervous start the sick man awoke. The day had been cloudyand dark, but the rain was over now, and the room was full ofsunshine--sunshine dancing on the walls, sunshine glimmering on thefloor, sunshine everywhere. Insensibly, too, there stole over Mr. Carrollton's senses a feeling of quiet, of rest, and he slept ere longagain, dreaming this time that Margaret was there. 

Yes, Margaret was there--there, beneath the same roof which shelteredhim and the same sunshine which filled his room with light had bathedher white brow, as, leaning from her window, she listened to the roarof the falling water. They had lingered on their way, stopping at theThousand Isles, for Margaret would have it so; but they had come atlast, and the tripping footsteps in the hall, the silvery voice uponthe stairs, was that of the golden-haired Rose, who watched overMargaret with all a sister's love and a mother's care. The frequentjokes of the fun-loving Henry, too, were not without their goodeffect, and Margaret was better now than she had been for many weeks. 

"I can rest here, " she said, and a faint color came to her cheeks, making her look more like herself than at any time since that terriblenight of sorrow in the woods. 

And so three days went by, and Mr. Carrollton, on his weary bed, dreamed not that the slender form which sometimes, through hishalf-closed door, cast a shadow in his room, was that of her for whomhe sought. The tripping footsteps, too, went often by, and a merry, childish voice, which reminded him of Maggie, rang through thespacious halls, until at last the sick man came to listen for thatparty as they passed. They were a merry party, he thought, a verymerry party; and he pictured to himself her of the ringing voice; shewas dark-eyed, he said, with braids of shining hair, and when, as theywere passing once, he asked of his attendant if it were not as he hadfancied, he felt a pang of disappointment at the answer, which was, "The girl the young gentleman hears so much has yellow curls and darkblue eyes. "

"She is not like Maggie, then, " he sighed, and when again he heardthat voice a part of its music was gone. Still, it cheered hissolitude, and he listened for it again, just as he had done before. 

Once, when he knew they were going out, he went to the window to seethem, but the large straw hats and close carriage revealed no secret, and disappointed he turned away. 

"It is useless to stay here longer, " he said; "I must be about mywork. I am able to leave, and I will go to-morrow. But first I willvisit the Falls once more. I may never see them again. "

Accordingly, next morning, after Margaret and Rose had left the house, he came down the stairs, sprang into an open carriage, and was drivento Goat Island, which, until his illness, had been his favoriteresort. 

 * * * * *

Beneath the tall forest trees which grow upon the island there isa rustic seat. Just on the brink of the river it stands, and thecarriage road winds by. It is a comparatively retired spot, lookingout upon the foaming water rushing so madly on. Here the weary oftenrest; here lovers sometimes come to be alone; and here Maggie Millersat on that summer morning, living over again the past, which to herhad been so bright, and musing sadly on the future, which would bringher she knew not what. 

She had struggled to overcome her pride, nor deemed it now a disgracethat she was not a Conway. Of Hagar, too, she often thought, pityingthe poor old half-crazed woman who for her sake had borne so much. Butnot of her was she thinking now. Hagar was shriveled and bent and old, while the image present in Margaret's mind was handsome, erect, andyoung, like the gentleman riding by--the man whose carriage wheels, grinding into the gravelly road, attracted no attention. Too intentwas she upon a shadow to heed aught else around, and she leanedagainst a tree, nor turned her head aside, as Arthur Carrollton wentby!

A little further on, and out of Maggie's sight, a fairy figure wasseated upon the grass; the hat was thrown aside, and her curls fellback from her upturned face as she spoke to Henry Warner. But thesentence was unfinished, for the carriage appeared in view, andwith woman's quick perception Rose exclaims, "'Tis surely ArthurCarrollton!"

Starting to her feet, she sprang involuntarily forward to meet him, casting a rapid glance around for Margaret. He observed themovement, and knew that somewhere in the world he had seen that facebefore--those golden curls--those deep blue eyes--that childishform--they were not wholly unfamiliar. Who was she, and why did sheadvance towards him?

"Rose, " said Henry, who would call her back, "Rose!" and lookingtowards the speaker Mr. Carrollton knew at once that Henry Warner andhis bride were standing there before him. 

In a moment he had joined them, and though he knew that Henry Warnerhad once loved Maggie Miller he spoke of her without reserve, sayingto Rose, when she asked if he were there for pleasure: "I am lookingfor Maggie Miller. A strange discovery has been made of late, andMargaret has left us. "

"She is here--here with us!" cried Rose; and in the exuberance ofher joy she was darting away, when Henry held her back until furtherexplanations were made. 

This did not occupy them long, for sitting down again upon the bankRose briefly told him all she knew; and when with eager joy he asked"Where is she now?" she pointed towards the spot, and then with Henrywalked away, for she knew that it was not for her to witness that gladmeeting. 

The river rolls on with its heaving swell, and the white foam istossed towards the shore, while the soft summer air still bears on itswing the sound of the cataract's roar. But Margaret sees it not, hearsit not. There is a spell upon her now--a halo of joy; and she onlyknows that a strong arm is around her, and a voice is in her ear, whispering that the bosom on which her weary head is pillowed shall beher resting place forever. 

It had come to her suddenly, sitting there thus--the footfall upon thesand had not been heard--the shadow upon the grass had not been seen, and his presence had not been felt, till, bending low, Mr. Carrolltonsaid aloud, "My Maggie!"

Then indeed she started up, and turned to see who it was that thus somuch like him had called her name. She saw who it was, and lookingin his face she knew she was not hated, and with a moaning cry wentforward to the arm extended to receive her. 

 * * * * *

Four guests, instead of one, went forth that afternoon from theInternational--four guests homeward bound, and eager to be there. Nomore journeying now for happiness; no more searching for the lost; forboth are found; both are there--happiness and Maggie Miller. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

HOME. 

Impatient, restless, and cross, Madam Conway lay in Margaret's room, scolding Theo and chiding Mrs. Jeffrey, both of whom, though tryingtheir utmost to suit her, managed unfortunately to do always just whatshe wished them not to do. Mrs. Jeffrey's hands were usually too cold, and Theo's were too hot. Mrs. Jeffrey made the head of the bed toohigh, Theo altogether too low. In short, neither of them ever did whatMargaret would have done had she been there, and so day after day thelady complained, growing more and more unamiable, until at last Theobegan to talk seriously of following Margaret's example, and runningaway herself, at least as far as Worcester; but the distressed Mrs. Jeffrey, terrified at the thought of being left there alone, begged ofher to stay a little longer, offering the comforting assurancethat "it cannot be so bad always, for Madam Conway will either getbetter--or something. "

So Theo stayed, enduring with a martyr's patience the caprices ofher grandmother, who kept the whole household in a constant state ofexcitement, and who at last began to blame George Douglas entirely asbeing the only one in fault. "He didn't half look, " she said, "andshe doubted whether he knew enough to keep from losing himself in NewYork. It was the most foolish thing Arthur Carrollton had ever done, hiring George Douglas to search!"

"Hiring him, grandma!" cried Theo; "George offered his services fornothing, " and the tears came to her eyes at the injustice done herhusband. 

But Madam Conway persisted in being unreasonable, and matters grewgradually worse until the day when Margaret was found at the Falls. Onthat morning Madam Conway determined upon riding. "Fresh air willdo me good, " she said, "and you have kept me in a hot chamber longenough. "

Accordingly, the carriage was brought out, and Madam Conway carefullylifted in; but ere fifty rods were passed the coachman was ordered todrive back, as she could not endure the jolt. "I told you I couldn't, all the time;" and her eyes turned reprovingly upon poor Theo, sittingsilently in the opposite corner. 

"The Lord help me, if she isn't coming back so soon!" sighed Mrs. Jeffrey, as she saw the carriage returning, and went to meet theinvalid, who had "taken her death of cold, " just as she knew sheshould when they insisted upon her going out. 

That day was far worse than any which had preceded it. It was probablyher last, Madam Conway said, and numerous were the charges she gaveto Theo concerning Margaret, should she ever be found. The house, thefarm, the furniture and plate were all to be hers, while to Theo wasgiven the lady's wardrobe, saving such articles as Margaret mightchoose for herself, and if she never were found the house and farmwere to be Mr. Carrollton's. This was too much for Theo, who resolvedto go home on the morrow, at all hazards, and she had commenced makingpreparations for leaving, when to her great joy her husband came, andin recounting to him her trials she forgot in a measure how unhappyshe had been. George Douglas was vastly amused at what he heard, andresolved to experiment a little with the lady, who was so weak as tonotice him only with a slight nod when he first entered the room. Hesaw at a glance that nothing in particular was the matter, and whentowards night she lay panting for breath, with her eyes half closed, he approached her and said, "Madam, in case you die--"

"In case I die!" she whispered indignantly. "It doesn't admit of adoubt. My feet are as cold as icicles now. "

"Certainly, " said he. "I beg your pardon; of course you'll die. "

The lady turned away rather defiantly for a dying woman, and Georgecontinued, "What I mean to say is this--if Margaret is never found, you wish the house to be Mr. Carrollton's?"

"Yes, everything, my wardrobe and all, " came from beneath thebedclothes; and George proceeded: "Mr. Carrollton cannot of coursetake the house to England, and, as he will need a trusty tenant, wouldyou object greatly if my father and mother should come here to live?They'd like it, I--"

The sentence was unfinished--the bunches in the throat which for hourshad prevented the sick woman from speaking aloud, and were eventuallyto choke her to death, disappeared; Madam Conway found her voice, and, starting up, screamed out, "That abominable woman and heathenish girlin this house, in my house; I'll live forever, first!" and her angryeyes flashed forth their indignation. 

"I thought the mention of mother would revive her, " said George, aside, to Theo, who, convulsed with laughter, had hidden herselfbehind the window curtain. 

Mr. Douglas was right, for not again that afternoon did Madam Conwayspeak of dying, though she kept her bed until nightfall, when artincident occurred which brought her at once to her feet, making herforget that she had ever been otherwise than well. 

In her cottage by the mine old Hagar had raved and sung and wept, talking much of Margaret, but never telling whither she had gone. Latterly, however, she had grown more calm, talking far less thanheretofore, and sleeping a great portion of the day, so that theservant who attended her became neglectful, leaving her many hoursalone, while she, at the stone house, passed her time more agreeablythan at the lonesome hut. On the afternoon of which we write she wasas usual at the house, and though the sun went down she did not hastenback, for her patient, she said, was sure to sleep, and even if shewoke she did not need much care. 

Meantime old Hagar slumbered on. It was a deep, refreshing sleep, andwhen at last she did awake, her reason was in a measure restored, andshe remembered everything distinctly up to the time of Margaret's lastvisit, when she said she was going away. And Margaret had gone away, she was sure of that, for she remembered Arthur Carrollton stood oncewithin that room, and besought of her to tell if she knew aught ofMaggie's destination. She did know, but she had not told, and perhapsthey had not found her yet. Raising herself in bed, she called aloudto the servant, but there came no answer; and for an hour or more shewaited impatiently, growing each moment more and more excited. IfMargaret were found she wished to know it, and if she were not foundit was surely her duty to go at once and tell them where she was. But could she walk? She stepped upon the floor and tried. Her limbstrembled beneath her weight, and, sinking into a chair, she cried, "Ican't! I can't!"

Half an hour later she heard the sound of wheels. A neighboring farmerwas returning home from Richland, and had taken the cross road ashis shortest route. "Perhaps he will let me ride, " she thought, and, hobbling to the door, she called after him, making known her request. Wondering what "new freak" had entered her mind, the man consented, and just as it was growing dark he set her down at Madam Conway'sgate, where, half fearfully, the bewildered woman gazed around. Thewindows of Margaret's room were open, a figure moved before them;Margaret might be there; and entering the hall door unobserved, shebegan to ascend the stairs, crawling upon her hands and knees, andpausing several times to rest. 

It was nearly dark in the sickroom, and as Mrs. Jeffrey had just goneout, and Theo, in the parlor below, was enjoying a quiet talk with herhusband, Madam Conway was quite alone. For a time she lay thinkingof Margaret; then her thoughts turned upon George and his "amazingproposition. " "Such unheard of insolence!" she exclaimed, and she wasproceeding farther with her soliloquy, when a peculiar noise upon thestairs caught her ear, and raising herself upon her elbow she listenedintently to the sound, which came nearer and nearer, and seemed likesomeone creeping slowly, painfully, for she could hear at intervals along-drawn breath or groan, and with a vague feeling of uneasiness sheawaited anxiously the appearance of her visitor; nor waited long, forthe half-closed door swung slowly back, and through the gatheringdarkness the shape came crawling on, over the threshold, into theroom, towards the corner, its limbs distorted and bent, its white hairsweeping the floor. With a smothered cry Madam Conway hid beneath thebedclothes, looking cautiously out at the singular object which camecreeping on until the bed was reached. It touched the counterpane, itwas struggling to regain its feet, and with a scream of horror theterrified woman cried out, "Fiend, why are you here?" while a faintvoice replied, "I am looking for Margaret. I thought she was in bed";and, rising up from her crouching posture, Hagar Warren stood face toface with the woman she had so long deceived. 

"Wretch!" exclaimed the latter, her pride returning as she recognizedold Hagar and thought of her as Maggie's grandmother. "Wretch, howdare you come into my presence? Leave this room at once, " and a shrillcry of "Theo! Theo!" rang through the house, bringing Theo at once tothe chamber, where she started involuntarily at the sight which mether view. 

"Who is it? who is it?" she exclaimed. 

"It's Hagar Warren. Take her away!" screamed Madam Conway; whileHagar, raising her withered hand deprecatingly, said: "Hear me first. Do you know where Margaret is? Has she been found?"

"No, no, " answered Theo, bounding to her side, while Madam Conwayforgot to scream, and bent eagerly forward to listen, her symptomsof dissolution disappearing one by one as the strange narrativeproceeded, and ere its close she was nearly dressed, standing erect asever, her face glowing, and her eyes lighted up with joy. 

"Gone to Leominster! Henry Warner's half-sister!" she exclaimed. "Whydidn't she add a postscript to that letter, and tell us so? Thoughthe poor child couldn't think of everything;" and then, unmindful ofGeorge Douglas, who at that moment entered the room, she continued:"I should suppose Douglas might have found it out ere this. But themoment I put my eyes upon _that woman_ I knew no child of hers wouldever know enough to find Margaret. The Warners are a tolerably goodfamily, I presume. I'll go after her at once. Theo, bring my brochéshawl, and wouldn't you wear my satin hood? 'Twill be warmer than myleghorn. "

"Grandma, " said Theo, in utter astonishment, "What do you mean? Yousurely are not going to Leominster to-night, as sick as you are?"

"Yes, I am going to Leominster to-night, " answered the decided woman;"and this gentleman, " waving her hand majestically towards George, "will oblige me much by seeing that the carriage is brought out. "

Theo was about to remonstrate, when George whispered: "Let her go;Henry and Rose are probably not at home, but Margaret may be there. Atall events, a little airing will do the old lady good;" and, ratherpleased than otherwise with the expedition, he went after John, whopronounced his mistress "crazier than Hagar. "

But it wasn't for him to dictate, and, grumbling at the prospectbefore him, he harnessed his horses and drove them to the door, whereMadam Conway was already in waiting. 

"See that everything is in order for our return, " she said to Theo, who promised compliance, and then, herself bewildered, listened to thecarriage as it rolled away; it seemed so like a dream that the womanwho three hours before could scarcely speak aloud had now started fora ride of many miles in the damp night air! But love can accomplishmiracles, and it made the eccentric lady strong, buoying up herspirits, and prompting her to cheer on the coachman, until just as theday grew rosy in the east Leominster appeared in view. The house wasfound, the carriage steps let down, and then with a slight tremblingin her limbs Madam Conway alighted and walked up the graveled path, casting eager, searching glances around and commenting as follows:

"Everything is in good taste; they must be somebody, these Warners. I'm glad it is no worse. " And with each new indication of refinementin Margaret's relatives the disgrace seemed less and less in the mindof the proud Englishwoman. 

The ringing of the bell brought down Janet, who, with an inquisitivelook at the satin hood and bundle of shawls, ushered the strangerinto the parlor, and then went for her mistress. Taking the card herservant brought, Mrs. Warner read with some little trepidation thename "Madam Conway, Hillsdale. " From what she had heard, she was notprepossessed in the lady's favor; but, curious to know why she wasthere at this early hour, she hastened the making of her toilet, andwent down to the parlor, where Madam Conway sat, coiled in one cornerof the sofa, which she had satisfied herself was covered with realbrocatel, as were also the chairs within the room. The tables ofrosewood and marble, and the expensive curtains had none of themescaped her notice, and in a mood which more common furniture wouldnever have produced Madam Conway arose to meet Mrs. Warner, whoreceived her politely, and then waited to hear her errand. 

It was told in a few words. She had come for Margaret--Margaret, whomshe had loved for eighteen years, and could not now cast off, eventhough she were not of the Conway and Davenport extraction. 

"I can easily understand how painful must have been the knowledge thatMaggie was not your own, " returned Mrs. Warner, "for she is a girlof whom anyone might be proud; but you are laboring under amistake--Henry is not her brother;" and then very briefly sheexplained the matter to Madam Conway, who, having heard so much, wasnow surprised at nothing, and who felt, it may be, a little gratifiedin knowing that Henry was, after all, nothing to Margaret, save thehusband of her sister. But a terrible disappointment awaited her. Margaret was not there; and so loud were her lamentations that sometime elapsed ere Mrs. Warner could make her listen while she explainedthat Mr. Carrollton had found Maggie the day previous at the Falls, that they were probably in Albany now, and would reach Hillsdale thatvery day; such at least was the import of the telegram which Mrs. Warner had received the evening before. "They wish to surprise you, undoubtedly, " she said, "and consequently have not telegraphed toyou. "

This seemed probable, and forgetting her weariness Madam Conwayresolved upon leaving John to drive home at his leisure, while shetook the Leominster cars, which reached Worcester in time for theupward train. This matter adjusted, she tried to be quiet; but herexcitement increased each moment, and when at last breakfast wasserved she did but little justice to the tempting viands which herhostess set before her. Margaret's chamber was visited next, and verylovingly she patted and smoothed the downy pillows, for the sake ofthe bright head which had rested there, while to herself she whisperedabstractedly, "Yes, yes, " though to what she was giving her assentshe could not tell. She only knew that she was very happy, and veryimpatient to be gone, and when at last she did go it seemed to her anage ere Worcester was reached. 

Resolutely turning her head away, lest she should see the scene of herdisaster when last in that city, she walked up and down the ladies'room, her satin hood and heavy broché shawl, on that warm Julymorning, attracting much attention. But little did she care. Margaretwas the burden of her thoughts, and the appearance of Mrs. Douglasherself would scarcely have disturbed her. Much less, then, did thepresence of a queerly dressed young girl, who, entering the car withher, occupied from necessity the same seat, feeling herself a littleannoyed at being thus obliged to sit so near one whom she mentallypronounced "mighty unsociable, " for not once did Madam Conway turn herface that way, so intent was she upon watching their apparent speed, and counting the number of miles they had come. 

When Charlton was reached, however, she did observe the women in ashaker, who, with a pail of huckleberries on her arm, was evidentlywaiting for someone. 

An audible groan from the depths of the satin hood, as Betsy Janepassed out and the cars passed on, showed plainly that the mother andsister of George Douglas were recognized, particularly as the formerwore the red and yellow calico, which, having been used as a "dressup" the summer before, now did its owner service as a garment ofeveryday wear. But not long did Madam Conway suffer her mind to dwellupon matters so trivial. Hillsdale was not far away, and she came eachmoment nearer. Two more stations were reached--the haunted swamp waspassed--Chicopee River was in sight--the bridge appeared in view--thewhistle sounded, and she was there. 

Half an hour later, and Theo, looking from her window, started insurprise as she saw the village omnibus drive up to their door. 

"'Tis grandmother!" she cried, and running to meet her she asked whyshe had returned so soon. 

"They are coming at noon, " answered the excited woman--then, hurryinginto the house and throwing off her hood, she continued: "He's foundher at the Falls; they are between here and Albany now; telleverybody to hurry as fast as they can; tell Hannah to make achicken pie--Maggie was fond of that; and turkey--tell her to kill aturkey--it's Maggie's favorite dish--and ice cream, too! I wish I hadsome this minute, " and she wiped the perspiration from her burningface. 

No more hysterics now; no more lonesome nights; no more thoughts ofdeath--for Margaret was coming home--the best loved of them all. Joyfully the servants told to each other the glad news, disbelievingentirely the report fast gaining circulation that the queenly Maggiewas lowly born--a grandchild of old Hagar. Up and down the stairsMadam Conway ran, flitting from room to room, and tarrying longestin that of Margaret, where the sunlight came in softly through thehalf-closed blinds and the fair summer blossoms smiled a welcome forthe expected one. 

Suddenly the noontide stillness was broken by a sound, deafening andshrill on ordinary occasions, but falling now like music on MadamConway's ear, for by that sound she knew that Margaret was near. Wearily went the half-hour by, and then, from the head of the towerstairs, Theo cried out, "She is coming!" while the grandmother buriedher face in the pillows of the lounge, and asked to be alone when shetook back to her bosom the child which was not hers. 

Earnestly, as if to read the inmost soul, each looked into the other'seyes--Margaret and Theo--and while the voice of the latter was chokedwith tears she wound her arms around the graceful neck, which bent tothe caress, and whispered low, "You are my sister still. "

Against the vine-wreathed balustrade a fairy form was leaning, holdingback her breath lest she should break the deep silence of thatmeeting. In her bosom there was no pang of fear lest Theo should beloved the best; and, even had there been, it could not surely haveremained, for stretching out her arm Margaret drew Rose to her side, and placing her hand in that of Theo said, "You are both my sistersnow, " while Arthur Carrollton, bending down, kissed the lips of thethree, saying as he did so, "Thus do I acknowledge your relationshipto me. "

"Why don't she come?" the waiting Madam Conway sighed, just as Theo, pointing to the open door, bade Margaret go in. 

There was a blur before the lady's eyes--a buzzing in her ears--andthe footfall she had listened for so long was now unheard as itcame slowly to her side. But the light touch upon her arm--thewell-remembered voice within her ear, calling her "Madam Conway, "sent through her an electric thrill, and starting up she caught thewanderer in her arms, crying imploringly, "Not that name, Maggiedarling; call me grandma, as you used to do--call me grandma still, "and smoothing back the long black tresses, she looked to see if griefhad left its impress upon her fair young face. It was paler now, andthinner too, than it was wont to be, and while her tears fell fastupon it, Madam Conway whispered: "You have suffered much, my child, and so have I. Why did you go away? Say, Margaret, why did you leaveme all alone?"

"To learn how much you loved me, " answered Margaret, to whom thismoment brought happiness second only to that which she had felt whenon the river bank she sat with Arthur Carrollton, and heard him tellhow much she had been mourned--how lonesome was the house withouther--and how sad were all their hearts. But that was over now--no moresadness, no more tears; the lost one had returned; Margaret was homeagain--home in the hearts of all, and nothing could dislodge her--noteven the story of her birth, which Arthur Carrollton, spurning atfurther deception, told to the listening servants, who, having alwaysrespected old Hagar for her position in the household as well as forher education, so superior to their own, set up a deafening shout, first for "Hagar's grandchild, " and next for "Miss Margaret forever!"

CHAPTER XXV. 

HAGAR. 

By Theo's request old Hagar had been taken home the day before, yielding submissively, for her frenzied mood was over--her strengthwas gone--her life was nearly spent--and Hagar did not wish to live. That for which she had sinned had been accomplished, and, though ithad cost her days and nights of anguish, she was satisfied at last. Margaret was coming home again--would be a lady still--the bride ofArthur Carrollton, for George Douglas had told her so, and she waswilling now to die, but not until she had seen her once again--hadlooked into the beautiful face of which she had been so proud. 

Not to-day, however, does she expect her; and just as the sun wassetting, the sun which shines on Margaret at home, she falls away tosleep. It was at this hour that Margaret was wont to visit her, andnow, as the treetops grew red in the day's departing glory, a gracefulform came down the woodland path, where for many weeks the grasshas not been crushed beneath her feet. They saw her as she left thehouse, --Madam Conway, Theo, all, --but none asked whither she wasgoing. They knew, and one who loved her best of all followed slowlyafter, waiting in the woods until that interview should end. 

Hagar lay calmly sleeping. The servant was as usual away, and therewas no eye watching Margaret as with burning cheeks and beating heartshe crossed the threshold of the door, pausing not, faltering not, until the bed was reached--the bed where Hagar lay, her crippled handsfolded meekly upon her breast, her white hair shading a whiter face, and a look about her half-shut mouth as if the thin, pale lips hadbeen much used of late to breathe the word "Forgive. " Maggie hadnever seen her thus before, and the worn-out, aged face had somethingtouching in its sad expression, and something startling too, biddingher hasten, if to that woman she would speak. 

"Hagar, " she essayed to say, but the word died on her lips, forstanding there alone, with the daylight fading from the earth, and thelifelight fading from the form before her, it seemed not meet that sheshould thus address the sleeper. There was a name, however, by whichshe called another--a name of love, and it would make the witheredheart of Hagar Warren bound and beat and throb with untold joy. And Margaret said that name at last, whispering it first softly toherself; then, bending down so that her breath stirred the snow-whitehair, she repeated it aloud, starting involuntarily as the rude wallsechoed back the name "Grandmother!"

"Grandmother!" Through the senses locked in sleep it penetrated, andthe dim eyes, once so fiery and black, grew large and bright again asHagar Warren woke. 

Was it a delusion, that beauteous form which met her view, that softhand on her brow, or was it Maggie Miller?

"Grandmother, " the low voice said again, "I am Maggie--Hester's child. Can you see me? Do you know that I am here?"

Yes, through the films of age, through the films of coming death, andthrough the gathering darkness, old Hagar saw and knew, and with ascream of joy her shrunken arms wound themselves convulsively aroundthe maiden's neck, drawing her nearer, and nearer still, until theshriveled lips touched the cheek of her who did not turn away, butreturned that kiss of love. 

"Say it again, say that word once more, " and the arms closed tighterround the form of Margaret, who breathed it yet again, while thechildish woman sobbed aloud, "It is sweeter than the angels' song tohear you call me so. "

She did not ask her when she came--she did not ask her where she hadbeen; but Maggie told her all, sitting by her side with the poor handsclasped in her own; then, as the twilight shadows deepened in theroom, she struck a light, and coming nearer to Hagar, said, "Am I muchlike my mother?"

"Yes, yes, only more winsome, " was the answer, and the half-blind eyeslooked proudly at the beautiful girl bending over the humble pillow. 

"Do you know that?" Maggie asked, holding to view the ambrotype ofHester Hamilton. 

For an instant Hagar wavered, then hugging the picture to her bosom, she laughed and cried together, whispering as she did so, "My littlegirl, my Hester, my baby that I used to sing to sleep in our home awayover the sea. "

Hagar's mind was wandering amid the scenes of bygone years, but itsoon came back again to the present time, and she asked of Margaretwhence that picture came. In a few words Maggie told her, and then fora time there was silence, which was broken at last by Hagar's voice, weaker now than when she spoke before. 

"Maggie, " she said, "what of this Arthur Carrollton? Will he make youhis bride?"

"He has so promised, " answered Maggie; and Hagar continued: "He willtake you to England, and you will be a lady, sure. Margaret, listen tome. 'Tis the last time we shall ever talk together, you and I, andI am glad that it is so. I have greatly sinned, but I have beenforgiven, and I am willing now to die. Everything I wished for hascome to pass, even the hearing you call me by that blessed name; but, Maggie, when to-morrow they say that I am dead--when you come down tolook upon me lying here asleep, you needn't call me 'Grandmother, ' youmay say 'poor Hagar!' with the rest; and, Maggie, is it too muchto ask that your own hands will arrange my hair, fix my cap, andstraighten my poor old crooked limbs for the coffin? And if I shouldlook decent, will you, when nobody sees you do it--Madam Conway, Arthur Carrollton, nobody who is proud--will you, Maggie, kiss me oncefor the sake of what I've suffered that you might be what you are?"

"Yes, yes, I will, " was Maggie's answer, her tears falling fast, anda fear creeping into her heart, as by the dim candlelight she saw anameless shadow settling down on Hagar's face. 

The servant entered at this moment, and, glancing at old Hagar, sunkinto a chair, for she knew that shadow was death. 

"Maggie, " and the voice was now a whisper, "I wish I could once moresee this Mr. Carrollton. 'Tis the nature of his kin to be sometimesoverbearing, and though I am only old Hagar Warren he might heed mydying words, and be more thoughtful of your happiness. Do you thinkthat he would come?"

Ere Maggie had time to answer there was a step upon the floor, andArthur Carrollton stood at her side. He had waited for her long, andgrowing at last impatient had stolen to the open door, and when thedying woman asked for him he had trampled down his pride and enteredthe humble room. Winding his arm round Margaret, who trembledviolently, he said: "Hagar, I am here. Have you aught to say to me?"

Quickly the glazed eyes turned towards him, and the clammy hand wastimidly extended. He took it unhesitatingly, while the pale lipsmurmured faintly, "Maggie's too. " Then, holding both between her own, old Hagar said solemnly, "Young man, as you hope for heaven, dealkindly with my child, " and Arthur Carrollton answered her aloud, "As Ihope for heaven, I will, " while Margaret fell upon her knees and wept. Raising herself in bed, Hagar laid her hands upon the head of thekneeling girl, breathing over her a whispered blessing; then the handspressed heavily, the fingers clung with a loving grasp, as it were, tothe bands of shining hair--the thin lips ceased to move--the head fellback upon the pillow, motionless and still, and Arthur Carrollton, leading Margaret away, gently told her that Hagar was dead. 

 * * * * *

Carefully, tenderly, as if she had been a wounded dove, did the wholehousehold demean themselves towards Margaret, seeing that everythingneedful was done, but mentioning never in her presence the name of thedead. And Margaret's position was a trying one, for though Hagar hadbeen her grandmother she had never regarded her as such, and she couldnot now affect a grief she did not feel. Still, from her earliestchildhood she had loved the strange old woman, and she mourned forher now, as friend mourneth for friend, when there is no tie of bloodbetween them. 

Her promise, too, was kept, and with her own hands she smoothed thesnow-white hair, tied on the muslin cap, folded the stiffened arms, and then, unmindful who was looking on, kissed twice the placid face, which seemed to smile on her in death. 

 * * * * *

By the side of Hester Hamilton they made another grave, and, withArthur Carrollton and Rose standing at either side, Margaret looked onwhile the weary and worn was laid to rest; then slowly retraced hersteps, walking now with Madam Conway, for Arthur Carrollton and Rosehad lingered at the grave, talking together of a plan which hadpresented itself to the minds of both as they stood by the humblestone which told where Margaret's mother slept. To Margaret, however, they said not a word, nor yet to Madam Conway, though they both unitedin urging the two ladies to accompany Theo to Worcester for a fewdays. 

"Mrs. Warner will help me keep house, " Mr. Carrollton said, advancingthe while so many good reasons why Margaret at least should go, thatshe finally consented, and went down to Worcester, together with MadamConway, George Douglas, Theo, and Henry, the latter of whom seemedquite as forlorn as did she herself, for Rose was left behind, andwithout her he was nothing. 

Madam Conway had been very gracious to him; his family were good, andwhen as they passed the Charlton depot thoughts of the leghorn bonnetand blue umbrella intruded themselves upon her, she half wished thatHenry had broken his leg in Theo's behalf, and so saved her frombearing the name of Douglas. 

The week went by, passing rapidly as all weeks will, and Margaret wasagain at home. Rose was there still, and just as the sun was settingshe took her sister's hand, and led her out into the open air towardthe resting-place of the dead, where a change had been wrought; andMargaret, leaning over the iron gate, comprehended at once the feelingwhich had prompted Mr. Carrollton and Rose to desire her absence fora time. The humble stone was gone, and in its place there stood ahandsome monument, less imposing and less expensive than that of Mrs. Miller, it is true, but still chaste and elegant, bearing upon itsimply the names of "Hester Hamilton, and her mother Hagar Warren, "with the years of their death. The little grave, too, where for manyyears Maggie herself had been supposed to sleep, was not beneath thepine tree now; that mound was leveled down, and another had been made, just where the grass was growing rank and green beneath the shadow ofthe taller stone, and there side by side they lay at last together, the mother and her infant child. 

"It was kind in you to do this, " Margaret said, and then, with herarm round Rose's waist, she spoke of the coming time when the sun ofanother hemisphere would be shining down upon her, saying she shouldthink often of that hour, that spot, and that sister, who answered:"Every year when the spring rains fall I shall come to see that thegrave has been well kept, for you know that she was my mother, too, "and she pointed to the name of "Hester, " deep cut in the polishedmarble. 

"Not yours, Rose, but mine, " said Maggie. "My mother she was, and assuch I will cherish her memory. " Then, with her arm still around hersister's waist, she walked slowly back to the house. 

A little later, and while Arthur Carrollton, with Maggie at his side, was talking to her of something which made the blushes burn on herstill pale cheeks, Madam Conway herself walked out to witness theimprovements, lingering longest at the little grave, and saying toherself, "It was very thoughtful in Arthur, very, to do what Ishould have done myself ere this had I not been afraid of Margaret'sfeelings. "

Then, turning to the new monument, she admired its chaste beauty, buthardly knew whether she was pleased to have it there or not. 

"It's very handsome, " she said, leaving the yard, and walking backwardto observe the effect. "And it adds much to the looks of the place. There is no question about that. It is perfectly proper, too, or Mr. Carrollton would never have put it here, for he knows what is right, of course, " and the still doubtful lady turned away, saying as shedid so, "On the whole, I think I am glad that Hester has a handsomemonument, and I know I am glad that Mrs. Miller's is a little thetaller of the two!"

CHAPTER XXVI. 

AUGUST EIGHTEENTH, 1858. 

Years hence, if the cable resting far down in the mermaids' homeshall prove a bond of perfect peace between the mother and her child, thousands will recall the bright summer morning when through thecaverns of the mighty deep the first electric message came, thrillingthe nation's heart, quickening the nation's pulse, and, with the musicof the deep-toned bell and noise of the cannon's roar, proclaiming tothe listening multitude that the isle beyond the sea, and the landswhich to the westward lie, were bound together, shore to shore, by astrange, mysterious tie. And two there are who, in their happy home, will oft look back upon that day, that 18th day of August, which gaveto one of Britain's sons as fair and beautiful a bride as e'er wentforth from the New England hills to dwell beneath a foreign sky. 

They had not intended to be married so soon, for Margaret would waita little longer; but an unexpected and urgent summons home made itnecessary for Mr. Carrollton to go, and so by chance the bridal daywas fixed for the 18th. None save the family were present, and MadamConway's tears fell fast as the words were spoken which made them one, for by those words she knew that she and Margaret must part. But notforever; for when the next year's autumn leaves shall fall the oldhouse by the mill will again be without a mistress, while in ahandsome country-seat beyond the sea Madam Conway will demean herselfright proudly, as becometh the grandmother of Mrs. Arthur Carrollton. Theo, too, and Rose will both be there, for their husbands have sopromised, and when the Christmas fires are kindled on the hearth andthe ancient pictures on the wall take a richer tinge from the ruddylight, there will be a happy group assembled within the Carrolltonhalls; and Margaret, the happiest of them all, will then almostforget that ever in the Hillsdale woods, sitting at Hagar's feet, shelistened with a breaking heart to the story of her birth. 

But not the thoughts of a joyous future could dissipate entirely thesadness of that bridal, for Margaret was well beloved, and the billowswhich would roll ere long between her and her childhood's homestretched many, many miles away. Still they tried to be cheerful, andHenry Warner's merry jokes had called forth more than one gay laugh, when the peal of bells and the roll of drums arrested their attention;while the servants, who had learned the cause of the rejoicing, struckup "God Save the Queen, " and from an adjoining field a rival choirsent back the stirring note of "Hail, Columbia, Happy Land. " Mrs. Jeffrey, too, was busy. In secret she had labored at the rent madeby her foot in the flag of bygone days, and now, perspiring at everypore, she dragged it up the tower stairs, planting it herself upon thehousetop, where side by side with the royal banner it waved in thesummer breeze. And this she did, not because she cared aught for thecable, in which she "didn't believe" and declared "would never work, "but because she would celebrate Margaret's wedding-day, and so makesome amends for her interference when once before the "Stars andStripes" had floated above the old stone house. 

And thus it was, amid smiles and tears, amid bells and drums, andwaving flags and merry song, amid noisy shout and booming guns, thatdouble bridal day was kept; and when the sun went down it left a gloryon the western clouds, as if they, too, had donned their best attirein honor of the union. 

 * * * * *

It is moonlight on the land--glorious, beautiful moonlight. On Hagar'speaceful grave it falls, and glancing from the polished stone shinesacross the fields upon the old stone house, where all is cheerlessnow, and still. No life--no sound--no bounding step--no gleeful song. All is silent, all is sad. The light of the household has departed;it went with the hour when first to each other the lonesome servantssaid, "Margaret is gone. "

Yes, she is gone, and all through the darkened rooms there is found notrace of her, but away to the eastward the moonlight falls upon thesea, where a noble vessel rides. With sails unfurled to the eveningbreeze, it speeds away--away from the loved hearts on the shore whichafter that bark, and its precious freight, have sent many a throb oflove. Upon the deck of that gallant ship there stands a beautifulbride, looking across the water with straining eye, and smilingthrough her tears on him who wipes those tears away, and whispers inher ear, "I will be more to you, my wife, than they have ever been. "

So, with the love-light shining on her heart, and the moonlightshining on the wave, we bid adieu to one who bears no more the name ofMaggie Miller.