Maggie Miller: The Story of Old Hagar's Secret — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
Maggie Miller: The Story of Old Hagar's Secret
John Stuart Mill · en
"It's not likely he is much," said Theo; "and if grandma were here I
presume she would assign him the chamber over the kitchen. The wall
is low on one side, I know, but I dare say he is not accustomed to
anything better."
Accordingly several articles of stray lumber were removed from the
chamber, which the ladies arranged with care, and which when completed
presented quite a respectable appearance. But Maggie had no idea of
putting her guest, as she considered him, in the kitchen chamber; and
when, as the party entered the house, Mrs. Jeffrey, from the head of
the stairs, called out, "This way, Maggie; tell them to come this
way," she waved her aside, and led the way to a large airy room over
the parlor, where, in a high, old-fashioned bed, surrounded on all
sides by heavy damask curtains, they laid the weary stranger. The
village surgeon arriving soon after, the fractured bones were set, and
then, as perfect quiet seemed necessary, the room was vacated by all
save Maggie, who glided noiselessly around the apartment, while the
eyes of the sick man followed her with eager, admiring glances, so
beautiful she looked to him in her new capacity of nurse.
Henry Warner, as the stranger was called, was the junior partner of
the firm of Douglas & Co., Worcester, and his object in visiting the
Hillsdale neighborhood was to collect several bills which for a long
time had been due. He had left the cars at the depot, and, hiring a
livery horse, was taking the shortest route from the east side of town
to the west, when he came accidentally upon Maggie Miller, and, as we
have seen, brought his ride to a sudden close. All this he told to her
on the morning following the accident, retaining until the last the
name of the firm of which he was a member.
"And you were once at our store?" he said. "How long ago?"
"Five years," answered Maggie; "when I was eleven, and Theo thirteen;"
then, looking earnestly at him, she exclaimed. "And you are the very
one, the clerk with the saucy eyes whom grandma disliked so much
because she thought he made fun of her; but we didn't think so--Theo
and I," she added hastily, as she saw the curious expression on
Henry's mouth, and fancied he might be displeased. "We liked them both
very much, and knew they must of course be annoyed with grandma's
English whims."
For a moment the saucy eyes studied intently the fair girlish face of
Maggie Miller, then slowly closed, while a train of thought something
like the following passed through the young man's mind: "A woman, and
yet a perfect child--innocent and unsuspecting as little Rose herself.
In one respect they are alike, knowing no evil and expecting none; and
if I, Henry Warner, do aught by thought or deed to injure this young
girl may I never again look on the light of day or breathe the air of
heaven."