Part 15 (1/2)
From the first he seemed to exercise over her an influence she could not well resist--a power to make her do whatever he willed that she should do; and though she sometimes rebelled she was pretty sure in the end to yield the contest, and submit to one who was evidently the ruling spirit. As yet nothing had been said of the hair ornament which, out of compliment to him, her grandmother wore every morning in 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 in that wonderful daguerreotype!”
”The stupid thing!” thought Maggie, while her eyes fairly danced with merriment as she antic.i.p.ated the question she fancied was sure to follow, but did not.
One glance at her tell-tale face was sufficient for Madam Conway. In her whole household there was but one head with locks as white as that, and whatever her thoughts might have been, she said nothing, but from that day forth Hagar's hair was never again seen ornamenting her person! That afternoon Mr. Carrollton and Maggie went out to ride, and in the course of their conversation he referred to the pin, asking whose hair it was, and seeming much amused when told that it was Hagar's.
”But why did you not tell her when it first came?” he said; and Maggie answered: ”Oh, it was such fun to see her sporting Hagar's hair, when she is so proud! It didn't hurt her either, for Hagar is as good as anybody. I don't believe in making such a difference because one person chances to be richer than another.”
”Neither do I,” returned Mr. Carrollton. ”I would not esteem a person for wealth alone, but there are points of difference which should receive consideration. For instance, this old Hagar may be well enough in her way, but suppose she were nearly connected with you--your grandmother, if you like--it would certainly make some difference in your position. You would not be Maggie Miller, and I--”
”Wouldn't ride with me, I dare say,” interrupted Maggie; to which he replied, ”I presume not,” adding, as he saw slight indications of pouting, ”And therefore I am glad you are Maggie Miller, and not Hagar's grandchild.”
Mentally p.r.o.nouncing him a ”proud, hateful thing,” Maggie rode on a while in silence. But Mr. Carrollton knew well how to manage her, and he too was silent until Maggie, who could never refrain from talking any length of time, forgot herself and began chatting away as gayly as before. During their excursion they came near to the gorge of Henry Warner memory, and Maggie, who had never quite forgiven Mr. Carrollton for criticising her horsemans.h.i.+p, resolved to show him what she could do. The signal was accordingly given to Gritty, and ere her companion was aware of her intention she was tearing over the ground at a speed he could hardly equal. The ravine was just on the border of the wood, and without pausing for an instant Gritty leaped across it, landing safely on the other side, where he stopped, while half fearfully, half exultingly, Maggie looked back to see what Mr. Carrollton would do.
At first he fancied Gritty beyond her control, and when he saw her directly over the deep chasm he shuddered, involuntarily stretching out his arms to save her; but the look she gave him as she turned around 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's ability as well as his own to clear that pa.s.s.
”Why don't you jump? Are you afraid?” and Maggie's eyes looked archly out from beneath her tasteful riding cap.
For half a moment he felt tempted to join her, but his better judgment came to his aid, and he answered: ”Yes, Maggie, I am afraid, having never tried such an experiment. But I wish to be with you in some way, and as I cannot come to you I ask you to come to me. You seem accustomed to the leap!”
He did not praise her. Nay, she fancied there was more of censure in the tones of his voice; at all events, he had asked her rather commandingly to return, and she ”wouldn't do it.” For a moment she made no reply, and he said again, ”Maggie, will you come?” then half playfully, half reproachfully, she made answer, ”A gallant Englishman indeed! willing I should risk my neck where you dare not venture yours. 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;” and fully expecting him to meet her, she galloped off, riding ere long quite slowly, ”so he'd have a nice long time to wait for her!”
How, then, was she disappointed, when, on reaching the bridge, there was nowhere a trace of him to be seen, neither could she hear the sound of his horse's footsteps, though she listened long and anxiously!
”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'm glad I was engaged to him before I saw this hateful Carrollton, for grandma might possibly have coaxed me into marrying him, and then wouldn't Mr. Dog and Mrs. Cat have led a stormy life! No, we wouldn't,” she continued; ”I should in time get accustomed to minding him, and then I think he'd be splendid, though no better than Henry. I wonder if Hagar has a letter for me!” and, chirruping to Gritty, she soon stood at the door of the cabin.
”Have you two been quarreling?” asked Hagar, noticing Maggie's flushed cheeks. ”Mr. Carrollton pa.s.sed here twenty minutes or more ago, looking mighty sober, and here you are with your face as red--What has happened?”
”Nothing,” answered Maggie, a little testily, ”only he's the meanest man! Wouldn't follow me when I leaped the gorge, and I know he could if he had tried.”
”Showed his good sense,” interrupted Hagar, adding that Maggie mustn't think every man was going to risk his neck for her.
”I don't think so, of course,” returned Maggie; ”but he might act better--almost commanded me to come back and join him, as though I was a little child; but I wouldn't do it. I told him I'd go down to the long bridge and cross, expecting, of course, he'd meet me there; and instead of that he has gone off home. How did he know what accident would befall me?”
”Accident!” repeated Hagar; ”accident befall you, who know every crook and turn of these woods so much better than he does!”
”Well, anyway, he might have waited for me,” returned Maggie. ”I don't believe he'd care if I were to get killed. I mean to scare him and see;” and, springing from Gritty's back, she gave a peculiar whistling sound, at which the pony bounded away towards home, while she followed Hagar into the cottage, where a letter from Henry awaited her.
They were to sail for Cuba on the 15th of October, and he now wrote asking if Maggie would go without her grandmother's consent. But, though irresolute when he before broached the subject, Maggie was decided now. She would not run away; and so she said to Hagar, to whom she confided the whole affair.
”I do not think it would be right to elope,” she said. ”In three years more I shall be twenty-one, and free to do as I like; and if grandma will not let me marry Henry now, he must wait. I can't run away. Rose would not approve of it, I'm sure, and I almost know Mr. Carrollton would 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 in Maggie's eyes, she said, ”Are you beginning to like this Englishman?”
”Why, no, I guess I aint,” answered Maggie, coloring slightly. ”I dislike him dreadfully, he's so proud. Why, he did the same as to say that if I were your grandchild he would not ride with me!”
”My grandchild, Maggie Miller!--my grandchild!” shrieked Hagar. ”What put that into his head?”