Thus a week went by, when one evening, as Madam Conway and Maggie sat
together in the parlor, they were surprised by the sudden appearance
of Henry Warner. He had accompanied his aunt and sister to New York,
where they were to remain for a few days, and then impelled by a
strong desire to see Margaret once more he had come with the vain
hope that at the last hour she would consent to fly with him, or her
grandmother consent to give her up. All the afternoon he had been at
Hagar's cottage waiting for Maggie, and at length determining to see
her he had ventured to the house. With a scowling frown Madam Conway
looked at him through her glasses, while Maggie, half joyfully, half
fearfully, went forward to meet him. In a few words he explained why
he was there, and then again asked of Madam Conway if Margaret could
go.
"I do not believe she cares to go," thought Madam Conway, as she
glanced at Maggie's face; but she did not say so, lest she should
awaken within the young girl a feeling of opposition.
She had watched Maggie closely, and felt sure that her affection
for Henry Warner was neither deep nor lasting. Arthur Carrollton's
presence had done much towards weakening it, and a few months more
would suffice to wear it away entirely. Still, from what had passed,
she fancied that opposition alone would only make the matter worse by
rousing Maggie at once. She knew far more of human nature than either
of the young people before her; and after a little reflection she
suggested that Henry should leave Maggie with her for a year, during
which time no communication whatever should pass between them, while
she would promise faithfully not to influence Margaret either way.
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