Part 14 (2/2)
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 on the evening train, surprising Maggie as she sat in the parlor alone, wis.h.i.+ng herself in Worcester, or in some place where it was not as lonely as there. With his presence the loneliness disappeared, and in making his tea and listening to his agreeable conversation she forgot everything, until, observing that she looked weary, he said: ”Maggie, I would willingly talk to you all night, were it not for the bad effect it would have on you to-morrow. You must go to bed now,” and he showed her his watch, which pointed to the hour of midnight.
Exceedingly mortified, Maggie was leaving the room, when, noticing her evident chagrin, Mr. Carrollton came to her side, and laying his hand very respectfully on hers, said kindly: ”It is my fault, Maggie, keeping you up so late, and I only send you away now because those eyes are growing heavy, and I know that you need rest. Good-night to you, and pleasant dreams.”
He went with her to the door, watching her until she disappeared up the stairs; then, half wis.h.i.+ng he had not sent her from him, he too sought his chamber; but not to sleep, for Maggie, though absent, was with him still in fancy. For more than a year he had been haunted by a bright, suns.h.i.+ny face, whose owner embodied the das.h.i.+ng, independent spirit and softer qualities which made Maggie Miller so attractive. Of this face he had often thought, wondering if the real would equal the ideal, and now that he had met with her, had looked into her truthful eyes, had gazed upon her sunny face, which mirrored faithfully every thought and feeling, he was more than satisfied, and to love that beautiful girl seemed to him an easy matter. She was so childlike, so artless, so different from anyone whom he had ever known, that he was interested in her at once. But Arthur Carrollton never did a thing precipitately. She might have many glaring faults; he must see her more, must know her better, ere he lavished upon her the love whose deep 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 Henry would be offended at her sitting up with him until after twelve o'clock.
It was nearly half-past nine when Maggie awoke next morning, and making a hasty toilet she descended to the dining room, where she found Mr. Carrollton awaiting her. He had been up a long time; but when Anna Jeffrey, blessed with an uncommon appet.i.te, fretted at the delay of breakfast, and suggested calling Margaret, he objected, saying she needed rest, and must not be disturbed. So, in something of a pet, the young lady breakfasted alone with her aunt, Mr. Carrollton preferring to wait for Maggie.
”I am sorry I kept you waiting,” said Maggie, seating herself at the table and continuing to apologize for her tardiness.
But Mr. Carrollton felt more than repaid by having her thus alone with him, and many were the admiring glances he cast toward her, as, with her s.h.i.+ning hair, her happy face, her tasteful morning gown of pink, and her beautiful white hands which handled so gracefully the silver coffee-urn, she made a living, glowing picture such as any man might delight to look upon. Breakfast being over, Mr. Carrollton proposed a ride, and as Anna Jeffrey at that moment entered the parlor he invited her to accompany them. There was a shadow on Maggie's brow as she left the room to dress, a shadow which had not wholly disappeared when she returned; and, observing this, Mr. Carrollton said, ”Were I to consult my own wishes, Maggie, I should leave Miss Jeffrey at home; but she is a poor girl whose enjoyments are far less than ours, consequently I invited her for this once, knowing how fond she is of riding.”
”How thoughtful you are of other people's happiness!” said Maggie, the shadow 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 he continued: ”Were you my sister Helen I should probably kiss you for having so soon got over your pet; but as you are Maggie Miller, I dare not,” and he looked earnestly at her, to see if he had spoken the truth.
Coloring crimson, as it became the affianced bride of Henry Warner to do, Maggie turned away, thinking Helen must be a happy girl, and half wis.h.i.+ng she too were Arthur Carrollton's sister. It was a long, delightful excursion they took, and Maggie, when she saw how Anna Jeffrey enjoyed it, did not altogether regret her presence. On their way 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 I somewhat resemble.”
By this time they were near the cottage, in the door of which old Hagar was standing, with her white hair falling round her face.
”I see by your looks you don't care to call, but I shall,” said Maggie; and, bounding from her saddle, she ran up to Hagar, pressing her hand and whispering that it would soon be time to hear from Henry.
”Kissed her, I do believe!” said Anna Jeffrey. ”She must have admirable taste!”
Mr. Carrollton said nothing, but with a half-comical, half-displeased expression he watched the interview between that weird old woman and the fair young girl, little suspecting how nearly they were allied.
”Why didn't you come and speak to her?” said Maggie, as he alighted to a.s.sist 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 she said. It was that you were the crossest, ugliest young one she ever saw! There, there; don't set me down so hard!” and the saucy eyes looked mischievously at the proud Englishman, who, truth to say, did place her in the saddle with a little more force than was at all necessary.
Not that he was angry. He was only annoyed at what he considered Maggie's undue familiarity with a person like Hagar, but he wisely forbore making any comments in Anna Jeffrey's presence, except, indeed, to laugh heartily at Hagar's complimentary description of himself when a baby. Arrived at home, and alone again with Maggie, he found her so very good-natured and agreeable that he could not chide her 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 sitting there in the moonlight, with the winding Chicopee full in view, and Margaret Miller at his side, Arthur Carrollton forgot the lapse of time, especially when Maggie, thinking it no harm, gave a most ludicrous description of her call upon Mrs. Douglas, senior, and of her grandmother's distress at finding herself so nearly connected with what she termed ”a low, vulgar family.”
Arthur Carrollton was very proud, and had Theo been his sister he might to some extent have shared in Madam Conway's chagrin; and so he said to Maggie, at the same time fully agreeing with her that George Douglas was a refined, agreeable man, and as such ent.i.tled to respect.
Still, had Theo known of his parentage, he said, it would probably have made some difference; but now that it could not be helped it was wise to make the best of it.
These words were little heeded then by Maggie, but with most painful distinctness they recurred to her in the after time, when, humbled in the very dust, she had no hope that the highborn, haughty Carrollton would stoop to a child of Hagar Warren! But no shadow of the dark future was over her now, and very eagerly she drank in every word and look of Arthur Carrollton, who, all unconsciously, was trampling on another's rights and gradually weakening the fancied love she bore for Henry Warner.
The arrival of the train brought their pleasant conversation to a close, and for a day or two Maggie's time was wholly occupied with her grandmother, to whom she frankly acknowledged having told Mr.
Carrollton of Mrs. Douglas and her daughter Betsy Jane. The fact that he knew of her disgrace and did not despise her was of great benefit to Madam Conway, and after a few days she resumed her usual spirits, and actually told of the remarks made by Mrs. Douglas concerning herself and the ”fight” she had been in! As time pa.s.sed on she became reconciled to the Douglases, having, as she thought, some well-founded reasons for believing that for Theo's disgrace Maggie would make amends by marrying Mr. Carrollton, whose attentions each day became more and more marked, and were not apparently altogether disagreeable to Maggie. On the contrary, his presence at Hillsdale was productive of much pleasure to her, as well as a little annoyance.
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