he, "you both retain for each other
the 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 Margaret
thought well of it he reproached her with a want of feeling, saying
she did not love him as she had once done.
"I shall not forget you, Henry," said Maggie, coming to his side and
taking his hand in hers, "neither will you forget me; and when the
year has passed away, only think how much pleasanter it will be for us
to be married here at home, with grandma's blessing on our union!"
"If I only knew you would prove true!" said Henry, who missed
something in Maggie's manner.
"I do mean to prove true," she answered sadly, though at that moment
another face, another form, stood between her and Henry Warner, who,
knowing that Madam Conway would not suffer her to go with him on
any terms, concluded at last to make a virtue of necessity, and
accordingly expressed his willingness to wait, provided Margaret were
allowed to write occasionally either to himself or Rose.
But to this Madam Conway would not consent. She wished the test to
be perfect, she said, and unless he accepted her terms he must give
Maggie up, at once and forever.
As there seemed no alternative, Henry rather ungraciously yielded
the point, promising to leave Maggie free for a year, while she too
promised not to write either to him or to Rose, except with her
grandmother's consent. Maggie Miller's word once passed, Madam Conway
knew it would not be broken, and she unhesitatingly left the young
people together while they said their parting words. A message of love
from Maggie to Rose--a hundred protestations of eternal fidelity, and
then they parted; Henry, sad and disappointed, slowly wending his way
back to the spot where Hagar impatiently awaited his coming, while
Maggie, leaning from her chamber window, and listening to the sound of
his retreating footsteps, brushed away a tear, wondering the while why
it was that she felt so relieved.
CHAPTER XVI
PERPLEXITY
Half in sorrow, half in joy, old Hagar listened to the story which
Henry told her, standing at her cottage door. In sorrow because she
had learned to like the young man, learned to think of him as Maggie's
husband, who would not wholly cast her oil, if her secret should
chance to be divulged; and in joy because her idol would be with her
yet a little longer.
"Maggie will be
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