“Dearest,” he said, in scarcely more than
a whisper, while his arm stole round her, “I’ll
do, I’ll bear anything you wish. But—one
kiss—one—the last—before
we part.”
One kiss, and then a long look, until Maggie said
tremulously, “Let me go,—let me make
haste back.”
She hurried along, and not another word was spoken.
Stephen stood still and beckoned when they came within
sight of Willy and the horse, and Maggie went on through
the gate. Mrs. Moss was standing alone at the
door of the old porch; she had sent all the cousins
in, with kind thoughtfulness. It might be a joyful
thing that Maggie had a rich and handsome lover, but
she would naturally feel embarrassed at coming in
again; and it might not be joyful. In either
case Mrs. Moss waited anxiously to receive Maggie
by herself. The speaking face told plainly enough
that, if there was joy, it was of a very agitating,
dubious sort.
“Sit down here a bit, my dear.” She
drew Maggie into the porch, and sat down on the bench
by her; there was no privacy in the house.
“Oh, aunt Gritty, I’m very wretched!
I wish I could have died when I was fifteen.
It seemed so easy to give things up then; it is so
hard now.”
The poor child threw her arms round her aunt’s
neck, and fell into long, deep sobs.
A Family Party
Maggie left her good aunt Gritty at the end of the
week, and went to Garum Firs to pay her visit to aunt
Pullet according to agreement. In the mean time
very unexpected things had happened, and there was
to be a family party at Garum to discuss and celebrate
a change in the fortunes of the Tullivers, which was
likely finally to carry away the shadow of their demerits
like the last limb of an eclipse, and cause their
hitherto obscured virtues to shine forth in full-rounded
splendor. It is pleasant to know that a new ministry
just come into office are not the only fellow-men
who enjoy a period of high appreciation and full-blown
eulogy; in many respectable families throughout this
realm, relatives becoming creditable meet with a similar
cordiality of recognition, which in its fine freedom
from the coercion of any antecedents, suggests the
hopeful possibility that we may some day without any
notice find ourselves in full millennium, with cockatrices
who have ceased to bite, and wolves that no longer
show their teeth with any but the blandest intentions.
Lucy came so early as to have the start even of aunt
Glegg; for she longed to have some undisturbed talk
with Maggie about the wonderful news. It seemed,
did it not? said Lucy, with her prettiest air of wisdom,
as if everything, even other people’s misfortunes
(poor creatures!) were conspiring now to make poor
dear aunt Tulliver, and cousin Tom, and naughty Maggie
too, if she were not obstinately bent on the contrary,
as happy as they deserved to be after all their troubles.
To think that the very day—the very day—after
Tom had come back from Newcastle, that unfortunate
young Jetsome, whom Mr. Wakem had placed at the Mill,
had been pitched off his horse in a drunken fit, and
was lying at St. Ogg’s in a dangerous state,
so that Wakem had signified his wish that the new
purchasers should enter on the premises at once!
