Margaret, listen to
me. 'Tis the last time we shall ever talk together, you and I, and
I am glad that it is so. I have greatly sinned, but I have been
forgiven, and I am willing now to die. Everything I wished for has
come to pass, even the hearing you call me by that blessed name; but,
Maggie, when to-morrow they say that I am dead--when you come down to
look upon me lying here asleep, you needn't call me 'Grandmother,' you
may say 'poor Hagar!' with the rest; and, Maggie, is it too much
to ask that your own hands will arrange my hair, fix my cap, and
straighten my poor old crooked limbs for the coffin? And if I should
look decent, will you, when nobody sees you do it--Madam Conway,
Arthur Carrollton, nobody who is proud--will you, Maggie, kiss me once
for the sake of what I've suffered that you might be what you are?"
"Yes, yes, I will," was Maggie's answer, her tears falling fast, and
a fear creeping into her heart, as by the dim candlelight she saw a
nameless shadow settling down on Hagar's face.
The servant entered at this moment, and, glancing at old Hagar, sunk
into a chair, for she knew that shadow was death.
"Maggie," and the voice was now a whisper, "I wish I could once more
see this Mr. Carrollton. 'Tis the nature of his kin to be sometimes
overbearing, and though I am only old Hagar Warren he might heed my
dying words, and be more thoughtful of your happiness.
Pages:
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303