, and very anxiously she
listened for the first sound of Maggie's footsteps on the stairs.

"She sleeps late," she thought, when breakfast was announced, and
taking her accustomed seat she bade a servant see if Margaret were
ill.

"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 evil
stealing over her. "She seldom walks at this early hour," she
continued; and, rising, she went herself to Margaret's room.

Everything was in perfect order, the bed was undisturbed, the chamber
empty; Margaret was gone, and on the dressing-table lay the fatal
letter telling why she went. At first Madam Conway did not see it; but
it soon caught her eye, and tremblingly she opened it, reading but the
first line, "I am going away forever."

Then a loud shriek rang through the silent room, penetrating to Arthur
Carrollton's listening ear, and bringing him at once to her side. With
the letter still in her hand, and her face of a deathly hue, and her
eyes 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 forward
to hear what he might say.

But she listened in vain. With lightning rapidity Arthur Carrollton
read what Maggie had written--read that she, his idol, the chosen
bride of his bosom, was the daughter of a servant, the grandchild of
old Hagar! And for this she had fled from his presence, fled because
she knew of the mighty pride which now, in the first bitter moment
of his agony, did indeed rise up, a barrier between himself and the
beautiful girl he loved so well. Had she lain dead before him, dead
in all her youthful beauty, he could have folded her in his arms, and
then buried her from his sight, with a feeling of perfect happiness
compared to that which he now felt.

"Oh, Maggie, my lost one, can it be!" he whispered to himself, and
pressing his hand upon his chest, which heaved with strong emotion, he
staggered to a seat, while the perspiration stood in beaded drops upon
his 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 his
face with