' Hagar, you have much need to say that
prayer."
Aye, Hagar Warren--much need, much need!
CHAPTER II
HAGAR'S SECRET.
The wintry winds were blowing cold and chill around the old stone
house, and the deep untrodden snow lay highly piled upon the ground.
For many days the gray, leaden clouds had frowned gloomily down upon
the earth below, covering it with a thick veil of white. But the storm
was over now; with the setting sun it had gone to rest, and the pale
moonlight stole softly into the silent chamber, where Madam Conway
bent anxiously down to see if but the faintest breath came from the
parted lips of her only daughter. There had been born to her that
night another grandchild--a little, helpless girl, which now in an
adjoining room was Hagar's special care; and Hagar, sitting there with
the wee creature upon her lap, and the dread fear at her heart that
her young mistress might die, forgot for once to repine at her lot,
and did cheerfully whatever was required of her to do.
There was silence in the rooms below--silence in the chambers
above,--silence everywhere,--for the sick woman seemed fast nearing
the deep, dark river whose waters move onward, but never return.
Almost a week went by, and then, in a room far more humble than where
Margaret Miller lay, another immortal being was given to the world;
and, with a softened light in her keen black eyes, old Hagar told to
her stately mistress, when she met her on the stair, that she too was
a grandmother.
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