But often fortune has better plans for us than we make for ourselves. One
day, near the end of June, Maggie was standing at an upper window, gazing
wistfully at the little park, full of pretty shrubs, which belonged
specially to Bute Crescent. A handsome carriage rapidly took the turn,
came dashing up the broad gravelled sweep, and stopped at Mrs. Lauder's
house. In a few minutes there was a call for Maggie, and she went down
stairs. The customer was before a long mirror with a mantle of black silk
and lace in her hands. She was a young lady, slight and small, and as
Maggie entered she turned toward her.
It was Mary Campbell, and Mary knew in a moment who the tall beautiful
woman in the black dress was. She was very much astonished, but she did
not in any way betray her surprise. On the contrary, she gathered her
faculties quickly together and looked at Maggie critically, and at first
without kindness.
Mary was at this time living at Drumloch, but a variety of business had
brought her to Glasgow for a week or two. Her first impulse was to go to
her uncle and tell him of her discovery. Her second was to keep it, at
least for a little while, to herself. It was almost certain that there had
been some great change in the girl's circumstances, or else she had come
to Glasgow in search of her lover. Mary could not tell how much or how
little Maggie knew of Allan's movements and intentions; she thought it
likely the girl had grown impatient and left her home. If so, perhaps it
was her duty to interfere in a life brought so directly to her notice. She
almost wished she had not seen her; gratified curiosity is very well, but
if it bring with it a sense of obligation, it may not be worth the price
to be paid.
Such were the drift of Mary's thoughts; and yet for Allan's sake she felt
that Maggie ought to be cared for. If she did not choose to assume the
charge, she ought to tell her uncle. Mary's conscience had taken up the
question, and Mary's conscience was a tyrannical one. It gave her no rest
about Maggie. "Maggie!" She repeated the name with a smile. "I knew she
would have to come down to 'Maggie' or 'Jennie'. I said so. Oh, Theodora,
what a fall! But she is handsome, there is no doubt of that. And she walks
as a mortal ought to walk, 'made a little lower than the angels'. And she
really has a ravishing smile, and perfect teeth also. I own I was afraid
about the teeth, nature generally forgets that detail. And her hands, if
large, are shapely; and her hair is a glory, as it ought to be in a woman
--and I wonder who taught her to dress it, and if she herself chose the
long, plain, black garment. Maggie is more of a puzzle than ever. I think
I will find her out without Uncle John's help."