I am able to leave, and I will go to-morrow. But first I will
visit the Falls once more. I may never see them again."
Accordingly, next morning, after Margaret and Rose had left the house,
he came down the stairs, sprang into an open carriage, and was driven
to Goat Island, which, until his illness, had been his favorite
resort.
* * * * *
Beneath the tall forest trees which grow upon the island there is
a rustic seat. Just on the brink of the river it stands, and the
carriage road winds by. It is a comparatively retired spot, looking
out upon the foaming water rushing so madly on. Here the weary often
rest; here lovers sometimes come to be alone; and here Maggie Miller
sat on that summer morning, living over again the past, which to her
had been so bright, and musing sadly on the future, which would bring
her she knew not what.
She had struggled to overcome her pride, nor deemed it now a disgrace
that she was not a Conway. Of Hagar, too, she often thought, pitying
the poor old half-crazed woman who for her sake had borne so much. But
not of her was she thinking now. Hagar was shriveled and bent and old,
while the image present in Margaret's mind was handsome, erect, and
young, like the gentleman riding by--the man whose carriage wheels,
grinding into the gravelly road, attracted no attention. Too intent
was she upon a shadow to heed aught else around, and she leaned
against a tree, nor turned her head aside, as Arthur Carrollton went
by!
A little further on, and out of Maggie's sight, a fairy figure was
seated upon the grass; the hat was thrown aside, and her curls fell
back from her upturned face as she spoke to Henry Warner.
Pages:
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283