moving with incoherent sounds.

Hagar had come up to the wedding, and had reached the door of Madam
Conway's room just in time to hear the last remark, which roused her
at once.

"Why don't she discover my secret, then," she muttered, "if she has so
much discernment? Why don't she see the Hagar blood in her? for it's
there, plain as day;" and she glanced proudly at Maggie, who, in her
simple robe of white, was far more beautiful than the bride.

And still Theo, in her handsome traveling dress, was very fair to look
upon, and George Douglas felt proud that she was his, resolving, as he
kissed away the tears she shed at parting, that the vow he had just
made should never be broken. A few weeks of pleasant travel westward,
and then the newly wedded pair came back to what, for a time, was to
be their home.

George Douglas was highly respected in Worcester, both as a man of
honor and a man of wealth; consequently, every possible attention was
paid to Theo, who was petted and admired, until she began to wonder
why neither Maggie nor yet her all-discerning grandmother had
discovered how charming and faultless she was!

Among George's acquaintance was a Mrs. Morton, a dashing, fashionable
woman, who determined to honor the bride with a party, to which all
the elite of Worcester were invited, together with many Bostonians.
Madam Conway and Maggie were of course upon the list; and, as timely
notice was given them by Theo, Madam Conway went twice to Springfield
in quest of a suitable dress for Maggie. She wanted something