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Updated: July 19, 2025
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.
"I have little cause to love the Cardews, but Anthony is a fine fellow. It is a thousand pities that his life must be sacrificed to the memory of a woman who was always beyond his reach, even while she lived."
But Grace harked back to Suzette, and the last of the Cardews harked with her.
There, don't be talkin' about the Cardews, child. What are they to you?" I got up and went out; and while my thoughts were busy with my visit to Dublin there would flash through them like warp and woof the thought of Anthony Cardew, who had gone away before I was born and of whom so many romantic stories were told.
"I am sorry you hate me, for it isn't necessary; and if I saw you in the least like others I should do all in my power to help you. Now, will you give me your promise that you won't interfere with Cicely and Merry?" "But does this mean does this mean," said Maggie, who was almost choking with rage, "that I am to have nothing to do with the Cardews?"
Where would such a marriage take him? He pondered the question pro and con. On the one hand the Cardews, on the other, Doyle and a revolutionary movement. A revolution would be interesting and exciting, and there was strong in him the desire to pull down. But revolution was troublesome. It was violent and bloody. Even if it succeeded it would be years before the country would be stabilized.
He had not recovered from his morning's anger, and she heard his voice, raised in some violent reproof to Jennie. He came up the stairs, his head sagged forward, his every step deliberate, heavy, ominous. He had an evening paper in his hand, and he gave it to her with his finger pointing to a paragraph. "You might show that to the last of the Cardews," he sneered.
The boys were not yet in their teens, but Molly and Isabel Tristram were about the same age as the young Cardews. Molly was, in fact, a year older, and was a very sympathetic, strong-minded, determined girl.
She would make use of them large use of them at school. She was fond of Molly and Belle; but they were poor. Maggie herself was poor. She wanted to have rich friends. The Cardews were rich. By their means she would defeat her enemy, Aneta Lysle, and establish herself not only in the school but with regard to her future life.
It was little supposed in those days that my darling mother would inherit the place, and that Cardews should live at Meredith Manor after all. Ah, here comes Dixon! Dixon, will you put our lunch on that small table? Thank you very much." One of the servants in the Cardew livery had appeared. He was bearing a small tray of tempting drinks, fruit, and cake. "Now, Maggie, eat; do eat," said Merry.
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