‘Yes, sir,’ answered Maggie, and laying Bennie gently down, she went around behind the counter, while the young man, gazing curiously at her, continued, ‘You surely are not Miss Macey?’
There was a most comical expression in the brown eyes which met the black ones of the stranger, as Maggie answered, ‘No sir, I am nobody but Maggie Lee.’
There must have been something attractive either in the name or the little maiden who bore it, for long after the gentleman had received the article for which he came, he lingered, asking the young girl numberless questions and playing with little Ben, who, now wide awake, met his advances more than half way, and was on perfectly familiar terms both with the stranger and the dog Ponto, who had stretched his shaggy length before the door.
‘Mag cries, she does, when Aunt Livy makes her stay home from school,’ said Ben, at last, beginning to feel neglected and wishing to attract attention.
Showing his white, handsome teeth, the gentleman playfully smoothed the silken curls of little Ben, and turning to the blushing Maggie, asked ‘if she were fond of books?’
‘Oh, I love them so much,’ was the frank, impulsive answer, and ere ten minutes had passed away, Judge Thornton, for he it was, understood Maggie’s character as well as if he had known her a lifetime.
Books, poetry, music, paintings, flowers, she worshipped them all, and without the slightest means either of gratifying her taste.
‘I have in my library many choice books, to which you are welcome at any time when you will call at Greystone Hall,’ the stranger said at last.
‘Greystone Hall!’ gasped Maggie, the little red spots coming out all over her neck and face—‘Greystone Hall!—then you must be——’
‘Judge Thornton, and your friend hereafter,’ answered the gentleman, offering his hand and bidding her good-by.