Once when they were
left together alone he drew her to his side, and bending very low,
so that his lips almost touched her marble cheek, he told her of his
love, and how full of anguish had been his heart when he thought that
she would die.
"But God kindly gave you back to me," he said; "and now, my precious
Margaret, will you be my wife? Will you go with me to my English home,
from which I have tarried now too long because I would not leave you?
Will Maggie answer me?" and he folded her lovingly in his arms.
Oh, how could she tell him No, when every fiber of her heart thrilled
with the answer Yes. She mistook him--mistook the character of Arthur
Carrollton, for, though pride was strong within him, he loved the
beautiful girl who lay trembling in his arms better than he loved his
pride; and had she told him then who and what she was, he would
not have deemed it a disgrace to love a child of Hagar Warren. But
Margaret did not know him, and when he said again, "Will Maggie answer
me?" there came from her lips a piteous, wailing cry, and turning her
face away she answered mournfully: "No, Mr. Carrollton, no, I cannot
be your wife. It breaks my heart to tell you so; but if you knew what
I know, you would never have spoken to me words of love. You would
have rather thrust me from you, for indeed I am unworthy."
"Don't you love me, Maggie?" Mr. Carrollton said, and in the tones of
his voice there was so much tenderness that Maggie burst into tears,
and, involuntarily resting her head upon his bosom, answered sadly: "I
love you so much, Arthur Carrollton, that I would die a hundred deaths
could that make me worthy of you, as not long ago I thought I was.
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