"Don't I love Maggie? No, I don't; neither does she love me," was the answer.
Willie was puzzled to know why any one should not like Mag; but his confidence in her was not at all shaken, and when, soon after sunset, Lenora cried, "There, they've come," he rushed to the door, and was soon in the arms of his sister-mother. Pressing his lips to hers, he said, "Did you 'know I'd got a new mother? Mrs. Carter and Leno--they are in there," pointing toward the parlor.
Instantly Mag dropped him. It was the first intimation of her father's marriage which she had received, and reeling backward, she would have fallen had not Walter supported her. Quickly rallying, she advanced toward her father, who came to meet her, and whose hand trembled in her grasp. After greeting each of his children he turned to present them to _his wife_, wisely taking Carrie first. She was not prejudiced, like Mag, and returned her stepmother's salutation with something like affection, for which Lenora rewarded her by terming her a "little simpleton."
But Mag--she who had warned her father against that woman--she who on her knees had begged him not to marry her--she had no word of welcome, and when Mrs. Hamilton offered her hand she affected not to see it, though with the most frigid politeness she said, "Good evening, madam; this is, indeed, a surprise!"
"And not a very pleasant one, either, I imagine," whispered Lenora to Carrie.
Walter came last, and though he took the lady's hand, there was something in his manner which plainly said she was not wanted there.
Tea was now announced, and Mag bit her lip when, she saw her accustomed seat occupied by another.
Feigning to recollect herself, Mrs. Hamilton, in the blandest tones, said, "Perhaps, dear Maggie, you would prefer this seat?"
"Of course not," said Mag, while Lenora thought to herself:
"And if she does, I wonder what good it will do?"
That young lady, however, made no remarks, for Walter Hamilton's searching eyes were upon her and kept her silent. After tea, Walter said, "Come, Mag, I have not heard your piano in a long time. Give us some music."
Mag arose to comply with his wishes, but ere she had reached the door Mrs. Hamilton gently detained her, saying, "Maggie, dear, Lenora has always slept near me, and as I knew you would not object, if you were here, I took the liberty to remove your piano to the parlor, and to fit this up for Lenora's sleeping-room. See"--and she threw open the door, disclosing the metamorphose, while Willie, who began to get an inkling of matters, and who always called the piazza "outdoors,"
chimed in, "And they throw'd your little trees outdoors, too!"
Mag stood for a moment, mute with astonishment; then thinking she could not "do the subject justice," she turned silently away. A roguish smile from Walter met her eye, but she did not laugh, until, with Carrie, she repaired to her own room, and tried to put something in the closet. Then coming upon the pile of extra clothes, she exclaimed, "What in the world! Here's all our winter clothing, and, as I live, five dresses crammed upon one nail! We'll have to move to the barn next!"
This was too much, and sitting down, Mag cried and laughed alternately.
CHAPTER VIII.
DOMESTIC LIFE AT THE HOMESTEAD.
For a few weeks after Margaret's return matters at the Homestead glided on smoothly enough, but at the end of that time Mrs. Hamilton began to reveal her real character. Carrie's journey had not been as beneficial as her father had hoped it would be, and as the days grew colder she complained of extreme languor and a severe pain in her side, and at last kept her room entirely, notwithstanding the numerous hints from her stepmother that it was no small trouble to carry so many dishes up and down stairs three times a day.
Mrs. Hamilton was naturally very stirring and active, and in spite of her remarkable skill in nursing, she felt exceedingly annoyed when any of her own family were ill. She fancied, too, that Carrie was feigning all her bad feelings, and that she would be much better if she exerted herself more. Accordingly, one afternoon when Mag was gone, she repaired to Carrie's room, giving vent to her opinion as follows: "Carrie," said she (she now dropped the _dear_ when Mr. Hamilton was not by), "Carrie, I shouldn't suppose you'd ever expect to get well, so long as you stay moped up here all day. You ought to come down-stairs, and stir around more."
"Oh, I should be so glad if I could," answered Carrie.
"Could!" repeated Mrs. Hamilton; "you could if you would. Now, it's my opinion that you complain altogether too much, and fancy you are a great deal worse than you really are, when all you want is exercise. A short walk on the piazza, and a little fresh air each, morning, would soon cure you."
"I know fresh air does me good," said Carrie; "but walking makes my side ache so hard, and makes me cough so, that Maggie thinks I'd better not."
Mag, quoted as authority, exasperated Mrs. Hamilton who replied rather sharply, "Fudge on Mag's old-maidish whims! I know that any one who eats as much as you do can't be so very weak!"
"I don't eat half you send me," said poor Carrie, beginning to cry at her mother's unkind remarks; "Willie 'most always comes up here and eats with me."
"For mercy's sake, mother, let the child have what she wants to eat, for 'tisn't long she'll need it," said Lenora, suddenly appearing in the room.
"Lenora, go right down; you are not wanted here," said Mrs. Hamilton.
"Neither are you, I fancy," was Lenora's reply, as she coolly seated herself on the foot of Carrie's bed, while her mother continued:
"Really, Carrie, you must try and come down to your meals, for you have no idea how much it hinders the work, to bring them up here.
Polly isn't good for anything until she has conjured up something extra for your breakfast, and then they break so many dishes!"
"I'll try to come down to-morrow," said Carrie meekly; and as the door-bell just then rang Mrs. Hamilton departed, leaving her with Lenora, whose first exclamation was:
"If I were in your place, Carrie, I wouldn't eat anything, and die quick."
"I don't want to die," said Carrie; and Lenora, clapping her hands together, replied:
"Why, you poor little innocent, who supposed you did? Nobody wants to die not even _I_, good as I am; but I should expect to, if I had the consumption."
"Lenora, have I got the consumption?" asked Carrie, fixing her eyes with mournful earnestness upon her companion, who thoughtlessly replied:
"To be sure you have. They say one lung is entirely gone and the other nearly so."
Wearily the sick girl turned upon her side; and, resting her dimpled cheek upon her hand, she said softly, "Go away now, Lenora; I want to be alone."
Lenora complied, and when Margaret returned from the village she found her sister lying in the same position in which Lenora had left her, with her fair hair falling over her face, which it hid from view.
"Are you asleep, Carrie?" said Mag; but Carrie made no answer, and there was something so still and motionless in her repose that Mag went up to her, and pushing back from her face the long silken hair, saw that she had fainted.
The excitement of her stepmother's visit, added to the startling news which Lenora had told her, was too much for her weak nerves, and for a time she remained insensible. At length, rousing herself, she looked dreamily around, saying, "Was it a dream, Maggie--- all a dream?"
"Was what a dream, love?" said Margaret, supporting her sister's head upon her bosom.
Suddenly Carrie remembered the whole, but she resolved not to tell of her stepmother's visit, though she earnestly desired to know if what Lenora had told her were true. Raising herself, so that she could see Margaret's face, she said, "Maggie, is there no hope for me; and do the physicians say I must die?"
"Why, what do you mean? I never knew that they said so," answered Mag; and then with breathless indignation she listened, while Carrie told her what Lenora had said. "I'll see that she doesn't get in here again," said Margaret. "I know she made more than half of that up; for, though the physicians say you lungs are very much diseased, they have never saw that you could not recover."
The next morning, greatly to Mag's astonishment Carrie insisted upon going down to breakfast.
"Why, you must not do it; you are not able," said Mag. But Carrie was determined; and, wrapping herself in her thick shawl, she slowly descended the stay though the cold air in the long hall made her shiver.
"Carrie, dear, you are better this morning, and there is quite a rosy flush on your cheek," said Mrs. Hamilton, rising to meet her. _(Mr._ Hamilton, be it remembered, was present.) But Carrie shrank instinctively from her stepmother's advances, and took her seat by the side of her father. After breakfast Mag remembered that she had an errand in the village, and Carrie, who felt too weary to return immediately to her room, said she would wait below until her sister returned. Mag had been gone but a few moments when Mrs. Hamilton, opening the outer door, called to Lenora, saying, "Come and take a few turns on the piazza with Carrie. The air is bracing this morning, and will do her good."
Willie, who was present, cried out, "No--Carrie is sick; she can't walk--Maggie said she couldn't," and he grasped his sister's hand to hold her. With a not very gentle jerk Mrs. Hamilton pulled him off, while Lenora, who came bobbing and bounding into the room, took Carrie's arm, saying.
"Oh, yes, I'll walk with you; shall we have a hop, skip, or jump?"
"Don't, don't!" said Carrie, holding back; "I can't walk fast, Lenora," and actuated by some sudden impulse of kindness, Lenora conformed her steps to those of the invalid. Twice they walked up and down the piazza, and were about turning for the third time, when Carrie, clasping her hand over her side, exclaimed, "No, no; I can't go again."
Little Willie, who fancied that his sister was being hurt, sprang toward Lenora, saying, "Leno, you mustn't hurt Carrie. Let her go; she's sick."
And now to the scene of action came Dame Hamilton, and seizing her young stepson, she tore him away from Lenora, administering at the same time a bit of a motherly shake. Willie's blood was up, and in return he dealt her a blow, for which she rewarded him by another shake, and by tying him to the table.