University of Virginia Library

5. CHAPTER V.
TRIFLES.

Very rapidly the winter passed away, and one morning,
early in March, Mag went down to the cottage with the
news that Madam Conway was intending to start immediately
for England, where she had business which would
probably detain her until fall.

“Oh, won't I have fun in her absence!” she cried. “I'll
visit every family in the neighborhood. Here she's kept
Theo and me, caged up like two wild animals, and now I
am going to see a little of the world. I don't mean to
study a bit, and instead of visiting you once a day, I shall
come at least three times.”

“The Lord help me!” ejaculated old Hagar, who, much
as she loved Maggie, was beginning to dread her daily
visits.”

“Why, do you want help?” asked Maggie, laughingly.
“Are you tired of me, Hagar? Don't you like me any
more?”

“Like-you, Maggie Miller! like you,” repeated old Hagar,
and in the tones of her voice there was a world of tenderness
and love. “There is nothing on earth I love as I do
you. But you worry me to death sometimes.”

“Oh, yes, I know,” answered Mag; “but I'm not going
to tease you awhile. I shall have so much else to do when
grandma is gone, that I shall forget it. I wish she wasn't

so proud,” she continued, after a moment. “I wish she'd
let Theo and me see a little more of the world than she
does. I wonder how she ever expects us to get married, or
be anybody, if she keeps us here in the woods like two
young savages. Why, as true as you live, Hagar, I have
never been anywhere in my life, except to church Sundays,
once to Douglas's store, in Worcester, once to Patty Thompson's
funeral, and once to a Methodist camp-meeting; and
I never spoke to more than a dozen men besides the minister
and the school-boys. It's too bad!” and Maggie pouted
quite becomingly at the injustice done her by her grandmother
in keeping her thus secluded. “Theo don't care,”
she said. “She is prouder than I am, and does not wish to
know the Yankees, as grandma calls the folks in this country;
but I'm glad I am a Yankee. I wouldn't live in England
for anything.”

“Why don't your grandmother take you with her?”
asked Hagar, who in a measure sympathized with Maggie
for being thus isolated.

“She says we are too young to go into society,” answered
Mag. “It will be time enough two years hence, when I'm
eighteen and Theo twenty. Then I believe she intends taking
us to London, where we can show off our accomplishments,
and practise that wonderful courtesy which Mrs.
Jeffrey has taught us. I daresay the queen will be astonished
at our qualifications;” and with a merry laugh, as she
thought of the appearance she should make at the Court of
St. James, Mag leaped on Gritty's back and bounded away,
while Hagar looked wistfully after her, saying as she wiped
the tears from her eyes, “Heaven bless the girl! She
might sit on the throne of England any day, and Victoria
wouldn't disgrace herself at all by doing her reverence, even
if she be a child of Hagar Warren.”

As Maggie had said, Madam Conway was going to England.
At first, she thought of taking the young ladies with
her, but, thinking they were hardly old enough yet to be
emancipated from the school-room, she decided to leave
them under the supervision of Mrs. Jeffrey, whose niece she
promised to bring with her on her return from America.
Upon her departure she bade Theo and Mag a most affectionate
adieu, adding:

“Be good girls while I am away,” keep in the house,
mind Mrs. Jeffrey, and don't fall in love.”

This last injunction came involuntarily from the old lady,
to whom the idea of their falling in love was quite as preposterous
as to themselves.

“Fall in love!” repeated Maggie, when her tears were
dried, and she with Theo was driving slowly home. “What
could grandma mean! I wonder who there is for us to
love, unless it be John the coachman, or Bill the gardener.
I 'most wish we could get in love though, just to see how
'twould seem, don't you?” she continued.

“Not with anybody here,” answered Theo, her nose slightly
elevated at the thoughts of people whom she had been
educated to despise.

“Why not here as well as elsewhere?” asked Maggie.
“I don't see any difference. But grandma needn't be troubled,
for such things as men's boots never came near our
house. I think it's a shame though,” she continued, “that
we don't know anybody, either male or female. Let's go
down to Worcester, some day, and get acquainted. Don't
you remember the two handsome young men whom we saw
five years ago, in Douglas's store, and how they winked at
each other when grandma ran down their goods, and said
there were not any darning needles fit to use, this side of
the water!”

On most subjects, Theo's memory was treacherous, but
she remembered perfectly well the two young men, particularly
the taller one, who had given her a remnant of blue
ribbon, which he said was just the color of her eyes. Still,
the idea of going to Worcester did not strike her favorably.
“She wished Worcester would come to them,” she said,
“but she should not dare to go there. They would surely
get lost. Grandma would not like it, and Mrs. Jeffrey
would not let them go, even if they wished.”

“A fig for Mrs. Jeffrey,” said Maggie. “I shan't mind
her much. I'm going to have a real good time, doing as I
please, and if you are wise, you'll have one too.”

“I suppose I shall do what you tell me to—I always do,”
answered Theo, submissively, and there the conversation
ceased.

Arrived at home they found dinner awaiting them, and
Maggie, when seated, suggested to Mrs. Jeffrey that she
should give them a vacation of a few weeks, just long enough
for them to get rested and visit the neighbors. But this
Mrs. Jeffrey refused to do.

“She had her orders to keep them at their books,” she
said, and “study was healthful;” at the same time she bade
them be in the school-room on the morrow. There was a
wicked look in Maggie's eyes, but her tongue told no tales,
and when next morning she went with Theo, demurely to
the school-room, she seemed surprised at hearing from Mrs.
Jeffrey that every book had disappeared from the desk,
where they were usually kept; and though the greatly disturbed
and astonished lady had sought for them nearly an
hour, they were not to be found.

“Maggie has hidden them, I know,” said Theo, as she
saw the mischievous look on her sister's face.

“Margaret wouldn't do such a thing, I'm sure,” answered

Mrs. Jeffrey, her voice and manner indicating a little doubt,
however, as to the truth of her assertion.

But Maggie had hidden them, and no amount of coaxing
could persuade her to bring them back. “You refused me
a vacation when I asked for it,” she said, “so I'm going
to have it perforce;” and playfully catching up the little
dumpy figure of her governess, she carried her out upon the
piazza, and seating her in a large easy-chair, bade her “take
snuff and comfort, too, as long as she liked.”

Mrs. Jeffrey knew perfectly well that Maggie in reality was
mistress of the house, that whatever she did Madam Conway
would ultimately sanction; and as a rest was by no means
disagreeable, she yielded with a good grace, dividing her
time between sleeping, snuffing and dressing, while Theo
lounged upon the sofa and devoured some musty old novels,
which Maggie, in her rummaging, had discovered.

Meanwhile Maggie kept her promise of visiting the neighbors,
and almost every family had something to say in praise
of the merry light-hearted girl, of whom they had heretofore
known but little. Her favorite recreation, however, was
riding on horseback, and almost every day she galloped
through the woods and over the fields, usually terminating
her ride with a call upon old Hagar, whom she still continued
to tease unmercifully for the secret, and who was
glad when at last an incident occurred which for a time
drove all thoughts of the secret from Maggie's mind.