“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.

This young lady, though but little connected with our story, may perhaps deserve a brief notice.  Older than either Theo or Margaret, she was neither remarkable for beauty nor talent.  Dark-haired, dark-eyed, dark-browed, and, as the servants said, “dark in her disposition,” she was naturally envious of those whose rank in life entitled them to more attention than she was herself accustomed to receive.  For this reason Maggie Miller had from the first been to her an object of dislike, and she was well pleased when Madam Conway, enjoining the strictest secrecy, appointed her to watch that young lady, and see that no letter was ever carried by her to the post office which Madam Conway had not first examined.  In the snaky eyes there was a look of exultation as Anna Jeffrey promised to be faithful to her trust, and for a time she became literally Maggie Miller’s shadow, following her here, following her there, and following her everywhere, until Maggie complained so bitterly of the annoyance that Madam Conway at last, feeling tolerably sure that no counterplot was intended, revoked her orders, and bade Anna Jeffrey leave Margaret free to do as she pleased.