to win her grandmother's consent. But this she found impossible; Madam
Conway was determined, and would not listen.

"It grieves me sorely," she said, "thus to cross my favorite child,
whom I love better than my life; but it is for her good, and must be
done."

So she wrote a cold and rather insulting letter to Henry Warner,
bidding him, as she had done before, "let her granddaughter alone,"
and saying it was useless for him to attempt anything secret, for
Maggie would be closely watched, the moment there were indications of
a clandestine correspondence.

This letter, which was read to Margaret, destroyed all hope, and
still she wavered, uncertain whether it would be right to deceive her
grandmother. But while she was yet undecided, Hagar's fingers, of late
unused to the pen, traced a few lines to Henry Warner, who, acting at
once upon her suggestion, wrote to Margaret a letter which he directed
to "Hagar Warren, Richland."

In it he urged so many reasons why Maggie should avail herself of this
opportunity for communicating with him that she yielded at last, and
regularly each week old Hagar toiled through sunshine and through
storm to the Richland post office, feeling amply repaid for her
trouble when she saw the bright expectant face which almost always
greeted her return. Occasionally, by way of lulling the suspicions of
Madam Conway, Henry would direct a letter to Hillsdale, knowing full
well it would never meet the eyes of Margaret, over whom, for the time
being, a spy had been set, in the person of Anna Jeffrey.