ABSTRACT
MAGGIE sat on deck, wrapped in her duffel-cloak; the old familiar cloak, which had been her wrap in many a happy walk in the haunts near her moorland home. The weather was not cold for the time of year, but still it was chilly to any one that was stationary. But she wanted to look her last on the shoals of English people, who crowded backwards and forwards, like ants, on the pier. Happy people! who might stay among their loved ones. The mocking dæmons gathered round her, as they gather round all who sacrifice self, tempting. A crowd of suggestive doubts pressed upon her. ‘Was it really necessary that she should go with Edward? Could she do him any real good? Would he be in any way influenced by her?’ Then the dæmon tried another description of doubt. ‘Had it ever been her duty to go? She was leaving her mother alone. She was giving Frank much present sorrow. It was not even yet too late!’ She could not endure longer; and replied to her own tempting heart.
