Maggie did sleep soundly that night, for she was quite worn out, and when Saturday arrived she awoke without a fear and with a wonderful lightness of heart. The day of the festival and rejoining passed without a hitch. The supper was delightful. The tableaux vivants were the best the school had ever seen. The games, the fun, made the Cardews at least think that they had entered into a new world.
But perhaps the best scene of all came at the end when Aneta went up to Maggie and took her hand, and, still holding it, turned and faced the assembled school. 179
“Maggie and I don’t mean to be rival queens any longer,” she said. “We are joint-queens. All Maggie’s subjects are my subjects and all my subjects are Maggie’s. Any girl who disapproves of this, will she hold down her hand? Any girl who approves, will she hold her hand up in the air?”
Instantly all the pairs of hands were raised, and there was such a clapping and so many cheers for the queens who were no longer rival queens that mademoiselle was heard to exclaim, “But it is charming. It makes the heart to bound. I do love the English manner, and Mademoiselle Aneta, si jolie, si élégante; and Mademoiselle Maggie, who has a large charm. I do make homage to them as the two queens. I would,” she continued, turning and clasping Miss Johnson’s hands, “be a schoolgirl myself to be a subject of them.”
A few words will suffice to end this story. Lady Lysle might be proud and perhaps somewhat disdainful, but she was at least as good as her word, and in a very short time Martin the grocer thought it worth his while to open a very smart-looking shop in the West End. This shop Lady Lysle took a curious interest in and recommended to her friends, so that Martin began to do as sound a business in the neighborhood of Eaton Square as he did in Shepherd’s Bush. Of all things in the world, he liked best to make money, and he was quite glad to be rid of Maggie when his own prospects became golden owing to her absence from his premises.
As to Mrs. Martin, she was content to see her daughter occasionally.
Maggie’s curios were all sold, except the little brooch (which she kept for herself in memory of her father), for a sufficiently large sum to pay for her education and to leave her enough money to do well for herself by-and-by. Having no longer anything to conceal, and under the beautiful, brave influence of Aneta, she became quite a different girl. That strength of character and that strange fascination which were her special powers were now turned into useful channels. Maggie could never be beautiful, but her talents were above the average, and her moral nature now received every stimulus in the right direction. Merry Cardew could love her, and gain good, not harm, from her influence. But, strange to say—although perhaps not strange—Aneta was her special friend. It was with Aneta that Maggie mostly spent her holidays. It was Aneta’s least word that Maggie obeyed. It was for Aneta’s approval that Maggie lived.
Queens of the school they still remain, each exercising her influence in her own way, and yet both working in perfect harmony.
“Have they not both the characters beautiful?” said mademoiselle. “I think there is no girl like the English girl.”