tentimes she
wondered how far she might speak on the subject; and once or twice she drew
near it in conversation; but her mother winced away, and Maggie could not
as yet see any decided good to be gained from encountering such pain. To
herself it would have been a relief to have known the truth--the worst,
as far as her mother knew it; but she was not in the habit of thinking of
herself. She only tried, by long tender attention, to cheer and comfort
her mother; and she and Nancy strove in every way to reduce the household
expenditure, for there was little ready money to meet it. Maggie wrote
regularly to Edward; but since the note inquiring about the agency, she had
never heard from him. Whether her mother received letters she did not know;
but at any rate she did not express anxiety, though her looks and manner
betrayed that she was ill at ease. It was almost a relief to Maggie when
some change was given to her thoughts by Nancy's becoming ill. The damp
gloomy weather brought on some kind of rheumatic attack, which obliged the
old servant to keep her bed. Formerly, in such an emergency, they would
have engaged some cottager's wife to come and do the house-work; but now it
seemed tacitly understood that they could not afford it. Even when Nancy
grew worse, and required attendance in the night, Maggie still persisted in
her daily occupations. She was wise enough to rest when and how she could;
and, with a little forethought, she hoped to be able to go through this
weary time without any bad effect. One morning (it was on the second of
December; and even the change of name in the month, although it brought no
change of circumstances or weather, was a relief--December brought glad
tidings even in its very name), one morning, dim and dreary, Maggie had
looked at the clock on leaving Nancy's room, and finding it was not yet
half-past five, and knowing that her mother and Nancy were both asleep, she
determined to lie down and rest for an hour before getting up to light the
fires. She did not mean to go to sleep; but she was tired out and fell into
a sound slumber. When she awoke it was with a start. It was still dark; but
she had a clear idea of being wakened by some distinct, rattling noise.
There it was once more--against the window, like a shower of shot. She
went to the lattice, and opened it to look out. She had that strange
consciousness, not to be described, of the near neighborhood of some human
creature, although she ne