"My heart would claim you for that, even though I had no brother,"
answered Rose, and again her lips touched those of Maggie.

Seeing them thus together, Henry tarried purposely a long time, and
when at last he rejoined them he proposed returning to the drawing
room, where many inquiries were making for Maggie.

"I have looked for you a long time, Miss Maggie," said Mr. Carrollton.
"I wish to hear you play;" and, taking her arm in his, he led her to
the piano.

From the moment of her first introduction to him Maggie had felt that
there was something commanding in his manner, something she could not
disobey; and now, though she fancied it was impossible to play before
that multitude, she seated herself mechanically, and while the keys
swam before her eyes, went through with a difficult piece which she
had never but once before executed correctly.

"You have done well; much better than I anticipated," said Mr.
Carrollton, again offering her his arm; and though a little vexed,
those few words of commendation were worth more to Maggie than the
most flattering speech which Henry Warner had ever made to her.

Soon after leaving the piano a young man approached and invited her to
waltz. This was something in which Maggie excelled; for two winters
before Madam Conway had hired a teacher to instruct her granddaughters
in dancing, and she was about to accept the invitation, when, drawing
her arm still closer within his own, Mr. Carrollton looked down upon
her, saying softly, "I wouldn't."