"Maggie, we were children together--we two--brother and sister of one
blood! Do you give me up to be put in prison--in the hulks--among the
basest of criminals--I don't know where--all for the sake of your own
selfish happiness?"
She trembled very much; but did not speak or cry, or make any noise.
"You were always selfish. You always thought of yourself. But this time
I did think you would have shown how different you could be. But it's
self--self--paramount above all."
"Oh Maggie! how can you be so hard-hearted and selfish?" echoed Mrs.
Browne, crying and sobbing.
"Mother!" said Maggie, "I know that I think too often and too much of
myself. But this time I thought only of Frank. He loves me; it would break
his heart if I wrote as Mr. Buxton wishes, cutting our lives asunder, and
giving no reason for it."
"He loves you so!" said Edward, tauntingly. "A man's love break his
heart! You've got some pretty notions! Who told you that he loved you so
desperately? How do you know it?"
"Because I love him so," said she, in a quiet, earnest voice. "I do not
know of any other reason; but that is quite sufficient to me. I believe
him when he says he loves me; and I have no right to cause him the
infinite--the terrible pain, which my own heart tells me he would feel, if
I did what Mr. Buxton wishes me."
Her manner was so simple and utterly truthful, that it was as quiet and
fearless as a child's; her brother's fierce looks of anger had no power
over her; and his blustering died away before her into something of the
frightened cowardliness he had shown in the morning.
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