"You must not on that account neglect Margaret's child," was Madam
Conway's answer, as with a wave of her hand she passed on; and this
was all she said--not a word of sympathy or congratulation for the
peculiar old woman whose heart, so long benumbed, had been roused to
a better state of feeling, and who in the first joy of her newborn
happiness had hurried to her mistress, fancying for the moment that
she was almost her equal.
"Don't neglect Margaret's child for that!" How the words rang in her
ears as she fled up the narrow stairs and through the dark hall, till
the low room was reached where lay the babe for whom Margaret's child
was not to be neglected. All the old bitterness had returned, and as
hour after hour went by, and Madam Conway came not near, while the
physician and the servants looked in for a moment only and then
hurried away to the other sickroom, where all their services were kept
in requisition, she muttered: "Little would they care if Hester died
upon my hands. And she will die too," she continued, as by the fading
daylight she saw the pallor deepen on her daughter's face.
And Hagar was right, for Hester's sands were nearer run than those of
Mrs. Miller. The utmost care might not, perhaps, have saved her; but
the matter was not tested; and when the long clock at the head of the
stairs struck the hour of midnight she murmured: "It is getting dark
here, mother--so dark--and I am growing cold.
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