"
The next moment Madam Conway was moving silently down the narrow
hall, while Hagar on her knees was weeping passionately. One word of
kindness had effected more than a thousand reproaches would have done;
and wringing her hands she cried, "I will not do it; I cannot."
Approaching the cradle, she was about to lift the child, when again
Madam Conway was at the door. She had come, she said, to take the babe
to Margaret, who seemed better this morning, and had asked to see it.
"Not now, not now. Wait till I put on her a handsomer dress, and I'll
bring her myself," pleaded Hagar.
But Madam Conway saw no fault in the fine cambric wrapper, and
taking the infant in her arms she walked away, while Hagar followed
stealthily. Very lovingly the mother folded to her bosom the babe,
calling it her fatherless one, and wetting its face with her tears,
while through the half-closed door peered Hagar's wild dark eyes--one
moment lighting up with exultation as she muttered, "It's my flesh,
my blood, proud lady!" and the next growing dim with tears, as she
thought of the evil she had done.
"I did not know she had so much hair," said Mrs. Miller, parting the
silken locks. "I think it will be like mine," and she gave the child
to her mother, while Hagar glided swiftly back to her room.
That afternoon the clergyman whose church Mrs. Conway usually
attended, called to see Mrs. Miller, who suggested that both the
children should receive the rite of baptism.
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