Involuntarily Maggie glanced at the tall marble gleaming through
the distant trees, while Hagar's thoughts were down in that other
grave--the grave beneath the pine. The next day was the party, and
at an early hour Madam Conway was ready. Her rich purple satin and
Valenciennes laces, with which she hoped to impress Mrs. Douglas,
senior, were carefully packed up, together with Maggie's dress; and
then, shawled and bonneted, she waited impatiently for her carriage,
which she preferred to the cars. It came at last, but in place of
John, the usual coachman, Mike, a rather wild youth of twenty, was
mounted upon the box. His father, he said, had been taken suddenly
ill, and had deputized him to drive.

For a time Madam Conway hesitated, for she knew Mike's one great
failing, and she hardly dared risk herself with him, lest she should
find a seat less desirable even than the memorable brush-heap. But
Mike protested loudly to having joined the "Sons of Temperance" only
the night before, and as in his new suit of blue, with shining brass
buttons, he presented a more stylish appearance than his father, his
mistress finally decided to try him, threatening all manner of evil if
in any way he broke his pledge, either to herself or the "Sons," the
latter of whom had probably never heard of him. He was perfectly
sober now, and drove them safely to Worcester, where they soon found
themselves in Theo's handsome rooms. Her wrappings removed and herself
snugly ensconced in a velvet-cushioned chair, Madam Conway asked the
young bride how long before Mrs. Douglas, senior, would probably
arrive.

A slight shadow, which no one observed, passed over Theo's face as she
answered, "George's father seldom goes into society, and consequently