Maggie Miller | Page 5

Mary J. Holmes
deal of sympathy manifested for old Hagar, who, with a gloomy brow, hugged to her heart the demon of jealousy, which kept whispering to her of the difference there would be were Margaret to die. It was deemed advisable to keep Hester's death a secret from Mrs. Miller; so, with as little ceremony as possible, the body was buried at the close of the day, in an inclosure which had been set apart as a family burying-ground; and when again the night shadows fell Hagar Warren sat in her silent room, brooding over her grief, and looking oft at the plain pine cradle where lay the little motherless child, her granddaughter. Occasionally, too, her eye wandered towards the mahogany crib, where another infant slept. Perfect quiet seemed necessary for Mrs. Miller, and Madam Conway had ordered her baby to be removed from the antechamber where first it had been kept, so that Hagar had the two children in her own room.
In the pine cradle there was a rustling sound; the baby was awaking, and taking it upon her lap Hagar soothed it again to sleep, gazing earnestly upon it to see if it were like its mother. It was a bright, healthy-looking infant, and though five days younger than that of Mrs. Miller was quite as large and looked as old.
"And you will be a drudge, while she will be a lady," muttered Hagar, as her tears fell on the face of the sleeping child. "Why need this difference be?"
Old Hagar had forgotten the words "Lead us not into temptation"; and when the Tempter answered, "It need not be," she only started suddenly as if smitten by a heavy blow; but she did not drive him from her, and she sat there reasoning with herself that "it need not be." Neither the physician nor Madam Conway had paid any attention to Margaret's child; it had been her special care, while no one had noticed hers, and newly born babies were so much alike that deception was an easy matter. But could she do it? Could she bear that secret on her soul? Madam Conway, though proud, had been kind to her, and could she thus deceive her! Would her daughter, sleeping in her early grave, approve the deed. "No, no," she answered aloud, "she would not!" and the great drops of perspiration stood thick upon her dark, haggard face as she arose and laid back in her cradle the child whom she had thought to make an heiress.
For a time the Tempter left her, but returned ere long, and creeping into her heart sung to her beautiful songs of the future which might be were Hester's baby a lady. And Hagar, listening to that song, fell asleep, dreaming that the deed was done by other agency than hers--that the little face resting on the downy pillow, and shaded by the costly lace, was lowly born; while the child wrapped in the coarser blanket came of nobler blood, even that of the Conways, who boasted more than one lordly title. With a nervous start she awoke at last, and creeping to the cradle of mahogany looked to see if her dream were true; but it was not. She knew it by the pinched, blue look about the nose, and the thin covering of hair. This was all the difference which even her eye could see, and probably no other person had noticed that, for the child had never been seen save in a darkened room.
The sin was growing gradually less heinous, and she could now calmly calculate the chances for detection. Still, the conflict was long and severe, and it was not until morning that the Tempter gained a point by compromising the matter, and suggesting that while dressing the infants she should change their clothes for once, just to see how fine cambrics and soft flannels would look upon a grandchild of Hagar Warren! "I can easily change them again--it is only an experiment," she said, as with trembling hands she proceeded to divest the children of their wrappings. But her fingers seemed all thumbs, and more than one sharp pin pierced the tender flesh of her little grandchild as she fastened together the embroidered slip, teaching her thus early, had she been able to learn the lesson, that the pathway of the rich is not free from thorns.
Their toilet was completed at last--their cradle beds exchanged; and then, with a strange, undefined feeling, old Hagar stood back and looked to see how the little usurper became her new position. She became it well, and to Hagar's partial eyes it seemed more meet that she should lie there beneath the silken covering than the other one, whose nose looked still more pinched and blue in the plain white dress and
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