Her yellow hair, beyond compare, Comes trinkling down her swan-white neck;And her two eyes, like stars in skies, Would keep a sinking ship frae wreck.
Oh! Mally's meek, Mally's sweet, Mally's modest and discreet;Mally's rare, Mally's fair, Mally's every way complete.
BURNS.
What arms for innocence but innocence.
GILES FLETCHER.
Margaret had sought Euphra's room, with the intention of restoring to her the letter which she had written to David Elginbrod. Janet had let it lie for some time before she sent it to Margaret; and Euphra had given up all expectation of an answer.
Hopes of ministration filled Margaret's heart; but she expected, from what she knew of her, that anger would be Miss Cameron's first feeling. Therefore, when she heard no answer to her application for admission, and had concluded, in consequence, that Euphra was not in the room, she resolved to leave the letter where it would meet her eye, and thus prepare the way for a future conversation. When she saw Euphra and Harry, she would have retired immediately; but Euphra, annoyed by her entrance, was now quite able to speak.
"What do you want?" she said angrily.
"This is your letter, Miss Cameron, is it not?" said Margaret, advancing with it in her hand.
Euphra took it, glanced at the direction, pushed Harry away from her, started up in a passion, and let loose the whole gathered irritability of contempt, weariness, disappointment, and suffering, upon Margaret. Her dark eyes flashed with rage, and her sallow cheek glowed like a peach.
"What right have you, pray, to handle my letters? How did you get this? It has never been posted! And open, too. I declare! Isuppose you have read it?"
Margaret was afraid of exciting more wrath before she had an opportunity of explaining; but Euphra gave her no time to think of a reply.
"You have read it, you shameless woman! Why don't you lie, like the rest of your tribe, and keep me from dying with indignation?
Impudent prying! My maid never posted it, and you have found it and read it! Pray, did you hope to find a secret worth a bribe?"She advanced on Margaret till within a foot of her.
"Why don't you answer, you hussy? I will go this instant to your mistress. You or I leave the house."Margaret had stood all this time quietly, waiting for an opportunity to speak. Her face was very pale, but perfectly still, and her eyes did not quail. She had not in the least lost her self-possession.
She would not say at once that she had read the letter, because that would instantly rouse the tornado again.
"You do not know my name, Miss Cameron; of course you could not.""Your name! What is that to me?"
"That," said Margaret, pointing to the letter, "is my father's name."Euphra looked at her own direction again, and then looked at Margaret. She was so bewildered, that if she had any thoughts, she did not know them. Margaret went on:
"My father is dead. My mother sent the letter to me.""Then you have had the impertinence to read it!""It was my duty to read it."
"Duty! What business had you with it?"
Euphra felt ashamed of the letter as soon as she found that she had applied to a man whose daughter was a servant. Margaret answered:
"I could at least reply to it so far, that the writer should not think my father had neglected it. I did not know who it was from till I came to the end."Euphra turned her back on her, with the words:
"You may go."
Margaret walked out of the room with an unconscious stately gentleness.
"Come back," cried Euphra.
Margaret obeyed.
"Of course you will tell all your fellow-servants the contents of this foolish letter."Margaret's face flushed, and her eye flashed, at the first words of this speech; but the last words made her forget the first, and to them only she replied. Clasping. her hands, she said:
"Dear Miss Cameron, do not call it foolish. For God's sake, do not call it foolish.""What is it to you? Do you think I am going to make a confidante of you?"Margaret again left the room. Notwithstanding that she had made no answer to her insult, Euphra felt satisfied that her letter was safe from profanation.
No sooner was Margaret out of sight, than, with the reaction common to violent tempers, which in this case resulted the sooner, from the exhaustion produced in a worn frame by the violence of the outburst, Euphra sat down, in a hopeless, unresting way, upon the chair from which she had just risen, and began weeping more bitterly than before. She was not only exhausted, but ashamed; and to these feelings was added a far greater sense of disappointment than she could have believed possible, at the frustration of the hope of help from David Elginbrod. True, this hope had been small; but where there is only one hope, its death is equally bitter, whether it be a great or a little hope. And there is often no power of reaction, in a mind which has been gradually reduced to one little faint hope, when that hope goes out in darkness. There is a recoil which is very helpful, from the blow that kills a great hope.
All this time Harry had been looking on, in a kind of paralysed condition, pale with perplexity and distress. He now came up to Euphra, and, trying to pull her hand gently from her face, said:
"What is it all about, Euphra, dear?"
"Oh! I have been very naughty, Harry."
"But what is it all about? May I read the letter?""If you like," answered Euphra, listlessly.
Harry read the letter with quivering features. Then, laying it down on the table with a reverential slowness, went to Euphra, put his arms round her and kissed her.
"Dear, dear Euphra, I did not know you were so unhappy. I will find God for you. But first I will--what shall I do to the bad man? Who is it? I will--"Harry finished the sentence by setting his teeth hard.