A Daughter of Fife - Page 93/138

At that moment Allan was in a pretty pleasure yacht idly drifting on the

gulf of Mexico. Mardi Gras had taken him to New Orleans, and there he had

hired the boat, and was leisurely sailing from one gulf town to another.

The skipper was his only companion, but he was fore, and Allan lay under

an awning, full of the afternoon's lazy content. The scent of orange

blossoms was blown from the shore, the blue waters dimpled in the

sunshine, and the flop of their ripple in the clincher-landings was an old

and pleasant music to him. Suddenly he sat erect and listened: "Maggie

called me. Three times over she called me." The impression upon his

spiritual ear was so strong that ere he was aware he had answered the call.

He could dream no longer. His nobler part was on the alert. He was not,

however, unhappy. The impression made upon him had been one of love and

longing, rather than of distress. His eyes brightened, his face flushed,

he walked rapidly about, like a man under a keener sense of life. Lovers

see miracles, and believe in them. Allan thought it nothing extraordinary

that Maggie's soul should speak to his soul. And why should we doubt the

greeting? Do we any of us know what subtle lines are between spirit and

spirit? A few years since, who dreamed of sending a message through the

air? Is it not more incredible that flesh and blood in New York should

speak with flesh and blood in Washington, than that spirits, rare, rapid

and vivid as thought, should communicate with each other, even though the

circumference of the world be between them? Allan did not try to analyze

the circumstance; he had a conviction, positive and delicious, and he

never thought of reasoning it away.

With a sense of infinite comfort and content, Maggie read her evening

portion, and went to rest. She had determined to enjoy that evening's

calm, without letting any thought of the future trouble her; and she awoke

in the morning strong and cheerful, and quite ready to face the question

of her support. She spoke first to her landlady. "Mistress Malcolm," she

said, "I'm a dressmaker, and I want wark. Will you gie me your advice, for

I'm not used to city ways?"

"You hae come to the city in a good time though. In the spring there is

aye work in plenty. Tak' the 'Herald' and read the advertisements. I hae a

paper ben the kitchen, I'll get it for you. See here now! Nae less than

nine dressmakers wanting help! The first call comes frae Bute Crescent;

that isna ten minutes walk awa'. Go and see the lady."

Half an hour afterward, Maggie was ringing at the door of Mrs. Lauder's

house. It was a very handsome one, handsomely furnished, and the

show-rooms were gay with the newest fashions. Maggie's beauty and fine

figure was an instant commendation. "Can you sew well, and cut, and fit?"

asked Mrs. Lauder.