Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1877-07-06
MAGGIE MAY.

II am sorry, GeorgeH'
George Goodwin turned his face away
for moment from the sweet beautiful one
looking into it. 1t was not in the least de-
grading to his manhood that the large tears
gathered for an instant in his eyes, as the
gentle voice spoke the words that told him
the strongest hope of his life was crushed
forever. The room was silent after Mag
gle spoke, and strong heart wrestled
dumbly with its great agony tender one
sought for words of comfort and relief.
When Maggie spoke again, her own pretty
eyes were moist, and a tremor was in her
low sweet voice:
s'Believe me, George, L never dreamed of
this. For so many years, ever since J. was
a little girl, you have been so like broth
er that have given you sisters love aud
did not think you wished for any other.
George she continued, piteously, 'tell
me you do not think have been trfiing
with you, Or willingly wounded the no
blest, truest and best heart in the world"
''Darling," said George, hoarsely, II
know you have not 1t was my own blind
ness, my own great love that deceived me.
Tell me, Maggie, is there no hope for me
in the future, when you may cease to love
me as Il brother, but love me dearly and
affectionately as | love you."
The answer came slowly and tenderly
Il am the promised wife of Edward Glow
err The room reeled before George's
eyes; then by great effort, he straighten-
ed himself, and controlled his voice to
speak: HE is worthy, Maggie, even of
your love. May heaven grant you every
happiness - and as he spoke, he softly
touched the raven hair of Maggie's bent
head with his lips, and left her. She went
to her own room crying softly. 1t was a
sore pain to her to know that George loved
her so deeply. There was no thought of
the girlish triumph over a new conquest,
for Maggie had not one spark of coquetry
i'll her simple nature. No pain of her hap
by, innocent life had been so great as this
sympathy and regret for George. She was
but mere child when her uncle had taken
George into his household to study medi
cine with him, to become, in course of time,
as dear to him as a son. He was not en-
tirely dependent on his profession, having
a small income inherited from his father.
To Maggie her uncle's house had been a
econd home since she was child. Stu
ated about two miles from her fathers res
dence, the distance had been considered
too great in her childhood for two walks
in the day, SO that a visit to her uncle's
was usually of two or three days. duration.
She was the star of the whole household
from her uncle to the housekeeper, and
even down to the office boy. who consider
ed her little angel. Georges arrival gave
the damsel new admirer in the strong,
rough lad, whose ringing voice woke the
echoes Of the quiet old house, as her silve-
ny laugh and low, sweet tones had never
done.
1t was pleasant to see how the young
natures controlled each other in the frank
pleasant intercourse. 1t was George who
conquered Maggie's timidity, and made
| her fearless horsewoman, who Weakened
Ter from dreamy reveries to realities OF
life, turned her tender sympath1es to prac-
tical charities, and led her up to higher
and nobler aims in life than her shrinking
genteness would have ever sought alone
1t was Maggie who taught George to sof
ten his rongi, rather uRconth manners
and persuaded him that eourtesy was nc
! want of manliness, and gentleness implied
no weakness.
But while George was allowing his whole
heart to become bound up in Maggie. Civ
ing her the entire devotion of his life. max
ing her returning love for every exertion
every act of self-saprihce, dreaming of his
future as only lifetime of loving care fol-
her, Maggie regarded him az only o bro.
ther and kept her heart untouched till Ed.
ward Glover came to claim it. He was but
a visitor at the village where Maggie spent
her happy life; but in his brief summer
sojourn he won the heart for whose love
George would have given his life, and in
the spring came to carry his bride to his
pity home.