A Daughter of Fife - Page 95/138

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."