Democratic Sentinel, Volume 3, Number 38, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 31 October 1879 — MAGGIE. [ARTICLE]

MAGGIE.

A Pleasant lx>ve Story. “I have got some news for you, Maggie,” he said one day, about eighteen months after he gained his commission. “Guess what it is.” They were walking along the green lanes of Perlock, listening to the ceaseless murmur of the sea, as, at intervals, they had walked and listened ever since they could remember, at any rate, for she was six years younger than her former play-fellow. “You are going to be promoted,” she said. “Promoted,you little goose! No one ever gets promoted in the British army. Guess again.” “You are going to marry an heiress.” There was a lump in her throat as she said it. “ Wrong again. No inestimable young person, with green eyes, a turn-up nose, susceptible heart, and fifty thousand a year has turned up yet. But it’s something nearly as good. I’m ordered to China.” “Oh, Alic!” she gasped, and burst into tears. It was very foolish of her, but then she was only 16, and had not yet acquired the praiseworthy art of concealing her feelings. “Why, whatever are you crying for?” ho asked, and kissed away her tears. He’d kissed her ever since she was 5, and thought no more of it than if she bad been his sister, or the cat, excepting, perhaps, that it was nicer—which it was, no doubt. “I shall only be away five years at most, and when I come back I’ll bring you a pig-tail and an ivory tooth-pick, and a whole lot of things, and “ Yes?” she said, listening attentively. “But then you’ll be a young woman —I forgot—and ‘ out ’ and all that sort of thing, and won’t condescend to to a poor Lieutenant; you will have all the squires and fox-hunters about the place at your feet.” “ Oh, no I indeed I shan’t, Alic,” she said, eagerly. “ But I tell you, you will. I believe you are a bcm little flirt, and I shall come back and find—” . But she burst into tears again, and put up her pretty little hand as if to stop his teasing, which she could not bear just then. It seemed so cruel of him to laugh and joke, when he was going aw<»y for five years. He did not seem to care a bit, and she could have broken her heart on the spot, and would have gladly done so and thrown the pieces away, so as never to be bothered with it again. Then, seeing her mournful blue eyes, he was merciful. “I believe I shall come back and find you just as great a little darling as you are now, and, if we’ve got any money, we’ll get married and live happy ever after, and if we haven’t we’ll get married and starve ever after—unless, of course, the heiress turns up.” “Oh, I hope she won’t!” said Maggie, like a truthful little idiot. “Shall you ever write to me, Alic, dear?” “Yes, of course I shall, and I shall expect you to write back six pages crossed, and all that sort of thing, you know.” So Alic Granger went to China, and Maggie waited hopefully enough for a letter, but six months passed away and none came. “Perhaps it takes longer for a letter to get here from China,” she thought, knowing as little about the means of transit and the time it took as if the celestial city had been in the moon. But a year passed and no letter came. “Perhaps he’s ill, or jt’s miscarried,” she said, tearfully, half wondering if it could be possible that a Chinese heiress had turned up, and that was the real reason of Alic’s silence. “Two years passed, and never a word. It’s too bad,” she said, bitterly, and wondered ruefully if he had married with a pig-tail. And the days and the months went by, and Maggie journeyed into womanhood, but no word or sign came from Alic Granger, and at length she gave him up altohether.

Maggie was 20 years old when her father died, and the creditors did pounce down, and she and her mother were sold out. Drs. Dunlop was offered a home in London by a sister who was well oil and bad-tempered, and it was thankfully accepted. Maggie was informed that she must get her own living, which, being precisely Maggie’s own opinion as well as intention, she advertised for a situation as governess. Now, Maggie had a very modest idea of her own merits, and therefore only asked £25 a year and a comfortable home, so no less than five answers came to her announcement that she could teach English, French, music and the rudiments of drawing. One of these answers came from Woolwich, and stated that Mrs. Marshall required a governess for her three littlp girls. Mrs. Marshall was a stiffnecked sort of a woman, and stared at poor little Maggie—who looked almost as child-like and twice as pretty as ever —through double gold glasses. Col. Marshall, her husband, was a nice old man with a gray head and an irongray mustache, and there was a grow-ing-up daughter, a Miss Patterson— Mrs. Alarshall’s daughter by her first husband—who was really the mistress of the establishment, for Maria Patterson had a strong will, and was an heiress. “A very nasty heiress, too,” poor Maggie thought, and she was right, for Maria was skinny, and thought herself sarcastic, and always said nasty things to people who did not dare to say them back again. One evening, Maggie had been

about a year at Woolwich, and she was sitting alone in her school-room as usual, for her pupils had just said good-night, and been delivered up to the tender mercies of their nurse, Miss Patterson walked in very much dressed, and rather Hushed and excited. “Miss Dunlop,” she said, “we shall have a few friends this evening, and I know one or two of them like an impromptu dance ; will you be ready to come into the drawing-room and play if we should want you ?” “I fear I cannot play dance music very well; I never keep time,” said Maggie. “Yes, I feared so, and thought I would come and tell you, so that you might practice for an hour or two till after dinner,” and she sailed out of the room, evidently considering the matter settled, and Maggie meekly proceeded to practice the “Mabel Waltz” and the “Flick and Flock Galop.” Then she put on her shabby black evening gown, and stuck a spray of white flowers into her golden hair, and waited patiently for a summons, hoping she would wait in vain. It very soon came, and with a roll of music under her arm, a flush on her innocent, frightened face, and a scared, almost hunted expression in her eyes, she descended and timidly opened the drawing-room door, and there stood still for a moment, staring in astonishment at the scene before her. There sat the heiress, with an eager, pleased expression on her face, and leaning over her, talking and laughing, and more handsome than ever, and sunburnt ®nd soldierly-looking, was Alic Granger. There was no mistaking him. The color rush ed to Maggie’s face as if to say a hurried good-by, and then left it altogether. She recovered self-posses-sion, however, and walked with what she flattered herself was great dignity toward the piano. She felt rather than saw him raise his head and look at her, and the next moment he was by her side. “Maggie—my dear Maggie! Why, fancy you being here; where did you come from? I have been trying to find you out for months.” “I thought you”—and then she did not know how to go on, so added, almost piteously, “I am the governess here.”

“Are you? Oh, I see; that is the reason 1 have not seen you before. I suppose.” “Do you really know Miss Dunlop?” the heiress asked, coming-up and speaking in her coolest manner. Maggie wished sincerely that she could sink into her shoes and bury herself. “ Why, of course Ido; we have been playfellows ever since we were born—haven’t we, Maggie?” And Maggie, feeling she was backed up, answered bravely: “Yes.” “Oh, indeed! How interesting!” Then turning to Maggie: “Will you be so good as to begin a waltz. Miss Dunlop? This was to be our dance, I think;” to Alic, and she glides off with him triumphantly. He came to her directly after the dance was over. “I went down to Perlock to try and find out where you had gone to,” he said, “but nobody knew.” “It didn’t matter,” she said, huskily, letting her fingers wander vaguely over the keys to make believe she wasn’t very much interested in what he said. “Yes, it did—it mattered a great deal. Why, I’ve got a box full of curiosities for you—clubs to fight with, a little heathen god or two, and a statue of Buddha and all sorts of things. I told you I should bring you them home. Do you live here—l mean in this house ?” He said the last words under his breath, for the heiress came up, and the next minute he was carried off to dance with Mrs. Somebody at the other end of the room, but not before Maggie had nodded a reply to him. Soon after this Miss Patterson came up to the piano, and saying she wished to play herself, and that Maggie looked tired, dismissed her without being able to get even another look at Alic. The next morning, to Maggie’s very great surprise, Miss Patterson came into the school-room before the children had assembled. “Miss Dunlop,” she said, stiffly, “I should like to know where you say you met Mr. Granger.” “At Perlook. His uncle lived next door to my mother. He is a very old friend, indeed—” “Thank you. I merely wished to inquire, because, of course, you must be aware that it is not usual for any one in your position to make herself remarkable by having long confidence talks with any gentleman who may visit the house.” “I don’t know whdt you mean, Miss Patterson,” Maggie said, indignantly. But Miss Patterson had swept out of the room without deigning to reply. Then Maggie went into her own little room, the one place she had in the world entirely to herself, and cried till her eyes were red and her head ached. The lessons did not progress that morning. Maggie was thinking of Alic, who was no doubt strolling about the common, listening to the band and making love to the heiress. The children were more than usually stupid, too, and all the world seemed upside down, and all the ways turned crooked. Suddenly, at about 12 o’clock, just when Maggie was in the middle of expounding as best she could the eccentricities of the French grammar, there was a knock at the school-room door. “ Come in,” she said. The door opened, and there stood before her astonished eyes the form of Alic Granger, and behind him was a man—evidently his servant—with a box on his shoulder. “All right, Tim, put it down; that’s right; now be off. There, I’ve brought the curiosities round, Maggie; I thought you’d like to see them.” “ Oh! What will Mrs. Marshall and Miss Patterson say ?” said Maggie, in consternation. “Nothing to you for the next half hour or so, for I have just seen them safely on their way to Woolwich, and thought I should just get a quiet chat with you. My dears,” he said, turning to Maggie’s wide-eyed, open-mouthed pupils, “ I’m quite sure you’ll like to be let off your lessons, so I’ll let you off for an hour; run along, my little dears,” and he opened the door for them and shut it after them. “Oh, Alic!” she said, in fear and trembling. “ Oh, Maggie! ” he answered, mimicking. “What did you mean by going away from Perlock, and not leaving any address ? ”

“ I couldn’t help it, and you never wrote,” she answered helplessly. “ No, I never write letters; don’t know how to spell well enough. But I have been hunting for you all over the place, and never dreamed of finding you here. Now we’ll unpack the box; I had it opened before I came, so it’s only fastened by a lock.” “ But, Alic, they’ll never forgive me.” “ Never mind, it doesn’t matter, because if you are good I’ll take you away next week. Besides they’ll forgive me anything. I sawed the Colonel’s life when be was in Hong Kong—at least so he says. There now, what do you think of these for fighting with? Got them at Java on purpose for you;” and he held up a pair of heathenish-looking clubs and brandished them* over his head, and then proceeded to pull out the contents of the box and to decorate

the school-room with them. “ There’s Mr. Buddha, and there’s—why, what’s the matter, Maggie?” “ Nothing, only you will get me in dreadful trouble—you will indeed. Miss Patterson came in this morning and scolded me for talking to you last night” “ Never mind, she was only jealous,” he laughed. “ Now tell me how soon you can leave here?” “What for?” she asked, innocently. “ Why, you haven’t forgotten that we agreed to get married when I came back, have you, you little coquette?” and he put his arm round her waist just as of old, and was not reproved. It was so very comfortable, she thought. “No, but you are engaged, are you not?” “Yes, of course I am—to you.” “Oh! but, Alic ” “Oh, but, Maggie—” and then he stooped and kissed her, and nothing more could be said, for the door opened, and there stood the Colonel, and there stood Maria Patterson. “Miss Dunlop!” screamed Maria, horror struck. “Mr. Granger!” said Mrs. Marshall, in astonishment. “Hoity-toity!” exclaimed the Colonel, “what does all this mean?” “She must leave the house at once,” said the heiress. “Of course she must,” Mrs. Marshall said. “ I never heard of such a thing in my life.” “My dear Mrs. Marshall,” said Alic, looking as if he were beginning a speech, “it is all my fault. You told me, and so did the Colonel, to consider your house my home, and I have done so. Miss Dunlop here was a playfellow of mine once, and when I went away we were engaged, but somehow we lost sight of each other when there were a few thousand miles between us, and it was the happiest moment of my life to meet her again last night; and so I took the liberty of calling on her this morning, and we were just arranging to get married next week when you interrupted us.” “Quite right, quite right, my dear Granger,” said the old Colonel, heartily; “you shall be married from here —” “Oh, please let me go to mammado let me go at once,” pleaded Maggie, finding her little tongue at last.

“I think it would be much more satisfactory if Miss Dunlop went back to her relations,” said the heiress, sourly. So they all agreed, and that very afternoon Maggie packed up her modest belongings and all the curiosities, and went to the well-off and bad tempered aunt. The bad-tempered aunt received her niece very graciously when she found she was going to marry well the following week. It is amazing how fond people are of rich relations, even though the riches concern them little personally. As for poor Mrs. Dunlop, she could have jumped for joy, only she was too old for such violent exercise. “Pray, miss, what are you laughing to yourself about?” asked Alic, the evening before their wedding day. “Nothing, Alic, only when you were away I used to think sometimes that, perhaps, you’d marry a Chinese heiress with a pigtail.” “The sort of thing you would think,” he said, grandly; “as it is, you see, I am going to marry a little girl without a pig-tail, and I am very happy, my darling—are you?” “Very, very,” she said. And she was.