"Henry Warner's well enough," answered Hagar. "I've watched him close
and see no evil in him; but he isn't the one for you, nor are you the
one for him. You are both too wild, too full of fun, and if yoked
together will go to destruction, I know. You need somebody to hold you
back, and so does he."

Involuntarily Maggie thought of Rose, mentally resolving to be, if
possible, more like her.

"You are not angry with me?" said Hagar, observing Maggie's silence.
"You asked my opinion, and I gave it to you. You are too young to know
who you like. Henry Warner is the first man you ever knew, and in two
years' time you'll tire of him."

"Tire of him, Hagar? Tire of Henry Warner?" cried Maggie a little
indignantly. "You do not know me, if you think I'll ever tire of him;
and then, too, did I tell you grandma keeps writing to me about a Mr.
Carrollton, who she says is wealthy, fine-looking, highly educated,
and very aristocratic--and that last makes me hate him! I've heard so
much about aristocracy that I'm sick of it, and just for that reason
I would not have this Mr. Carrollton if I knew he'd make me queen of
England. But grandma's heart is set upon it, I know, and she thinks
of course he would marry me--says he is delighted with my
daguerreotype--that awful one, too, with the staring eyes. In
grandma's last letter he sent me a note. 'Twas beautifully written,
and I dare say he is a fine young man, at least he talks common sense,
but I shan't answer it; and, if you'll believe me, I used part of
it in lighting Henry's cigar, and with the rest I shall light
firecrackers on the Fourth of July; Henry has bought a lot of them,
and we're going to have fun. How grandma would scold!--but I shall