England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
"Not till I have brought Maggie to reason," said he, in a manner as quiet
as her own, but with a subdued ferocity in it, which she saw, but which did
not intimidate her.
He went up to her, and spoke below his breath.
"Maggie, we were children together--we two--brother and sister of one
blood! Do you give me up to be put in prison--in the hulks--among the
basest of criminals--I don't know where--all for the sake of your own
selfish happiness?"
She trembled very much; but did not speak or cry, or make any noise.
"You were always selfish. You always thought of yourself. But this time
I did think you would have shown how different you could be. But it's
self--self--paramount above all."
"Oh Maggie! how can you be so hard-hearted and selfish?" echoed Mrs.
Browne, crying and sobbing.
"Mother!" said Maggie, "I know that I think too often and too much of
myself. But this time I thought only of Frank. He loves me; it would break
his heart if I wrote as Mr. Buxton wishes, cutting our lives asunder, and
giving no reason for it."
"He loves you so!" said Edward, tauntingly. "A man's love break his
heart! You've got some pretty notions! Who told you that he loved you so
desperately? How do you know it?"
"Because I love him so," said she, in a quiet, earnest voice. "I do not
know of any other reason; but that is quite sufficient to me. I believe
him when he says he loves me; and I have no right to cause him the
infinite--the terrible pain, which my own heart tells me he would feel, if
I did what Mr. Buxton wishes me."
Her manner was so simple and utterly truthful, that it was as quiet and
fearless as a child's; her brother's fierce looks of anger had no power
over her; and his blustering died away before her into something of the
frightened cowardliness he had shown in the morning. But Mrs. Browne came
up to Maggie; and took her hand between both of hers, which were trembling.
"Maggie, you can save Edward. I know I have not loved you as I should have
done; but I will love and comfort you forever, if you will but write as Mr.
Buxton says. Think! Perhaps Mr. Frank may not take you at your word, but
may come over and see you, and all may be right, and yet Edward may be
saved. It is only writing this letter; you need not stick to it."
"No!" said Edward. "A signature, if you can prove compulsion, is not valid.
We will all prove that you write this letter under compulsion; and if Frank
loves you so desperately, he won't give you up without a trial to make you
change your mind."
"No!" said Maggie, firmly. "If I write the letter I abide by it. I will not
quibble with my conscience. Edward! I will not marry--I will go and live
near you, and come to you whenever I may--and give up my life to you if you
are sent to prison; my mother and I will go, if need be--I do not know yet
what I can do, or cannot do, for you, but all I can I will; but this one
thing I cannot."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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