rfect health, and she throve well in spite of the bumped
heads and pinched fingers which frequently fell to her lot, when Hagar
was too busy with the feeble child to notice her. The plaything of the
whole house, she was greatly petted by the servants, who vied with
each other in tracing points of resemblance between her and the
Conways; while the grandmother prided herself particularly on the
arched eyebrows and finely cut upper lip, which she said were sure
marks of high blood, and never found in the lower ranks! With a
scornful expression on her face, old Hagar would listen to these
remarks, and then, when sure that no one heard her, she would mutter:
"Marks of blood! What nonsense! I'm almost glad I've solved the
riddle, and know 'taint blood that makes the difference. Just tell
her 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 essence
of aristocracy, while Maggie's lip would come of the little Paddy
blood there is running in her veins!"

And still Madam Conway herself was not one-half so proud of the
bright, playful Maggie as was old Hagar, who, when they were alone,
would hug her to her bosom, and gaze fondly on her fair, round face
and locks of silken hair, so like those now resting in the grave. In
the meantime Mrs. Miller, who since her daughter's birth, had never
left her room, was growing daily weaker, and when Maggie was nearly
nine 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 when
she remembered that to poor little Hester a mother's blessing would
never be given she felt that her load of guilt was greater than she
could bear. "She will perhaps forgive me if I confess it to her
over Miss Margaret's coffin," she thought; and once when they stood
together by the sleeping dead, and Madam Conway, with Maggie in her
arms, was bidding the child kiss the clay-cold lips of its mother, old
Hagar attempted to tell her. "Could you bear Miss Margaret's death as
well," she said, "if Maggie, instead of being bright and playful
as she is, were weak and sick like Hester?" and her eyes fastened
themselves upon Madam Conway with an agonizing intensity which that
lady could not fathom. "Say, would you bear it as well--could you love
her as much--would you change with me, take Hester for your own,