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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/6954-0.txt b/6954-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e4a7d3d --- /dev/null +++ b/6954-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8222 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of Aikenside, by Mary J. Holmes + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: Aikenside + +Author: Mary J. Holmes + +Release Date: February 16, 2003 [eBook #6954] +[Most recently updated: July 1, 2021] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +Produced by: Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AIKENSIDE *** + + + + +Aikenside + +by Mary J. Holmes + +Author of “Maggie Miller,” “Dora Drane,” “English Orphans,” “The +Homestead on the Hillside,” “Meadowbrook Farm,” “Lena Rivers,” +“Rosamond,” “Cousin Maude,” “Tempest and Sunshine,” “Rector of St. +Marks,” “Mildred,” “The Leighton Homestead,” “Miss McDonald” + + +Contents + + CHAPTER I. THE EXAMINING COMMITTEE. + CHAPTER II. MADELINE CLYDE. + CHAPTER III. THE EXAMINATION. + CHAPTER IV. GRANDPA MARKHAM. + CHAPTER V. THE RESULT. + CHAPTER VI. CONVALESCENCE. + CHAPTER VII. THE DRIVE. + CHAPTER VIII. SHADOWINGS OF WHAT WAS TO BE. + CHAPTER IX. THE DECISION. + CHAPTER X. AT AIKENSIDE. + CHAPTER XI. GUY AT HOME. + CHAPTER XII. A GENEROUS LETTER. + CHAPTER XIII. UNCLE JOSEPH. + CHAPTER XIV. MADDY AND LUCY. + CHAPTER XV. THE HOLIDAYS. + CHAPTER XVI. THE DOCTOR AND MADDY. + CHAPTER XVII. WOMANHOOD. + CHAPTER XVIII. THE BURDEN. + CHAPTER XIX. LIFE AT THE COTTAGE. + CHAPTER XX. THE BURDEN GROWS HEAVIER. + CHAPTER XXI. THE INTERVAL BEFORE THE MARRIAGE. + CHAPTER XXII. BEFORE THE BRIDAL. + CHAPTER XXIII. LUCY. + CHAPTER XXIV. FINALE. + + + + +CHAPTER I. +THE EXAMINING COMMITTEE. + + +The good people of Devonshire were rather given to quarreling—sometimes +about the minister’s wife, meek, gentle Mrs. Tiverton, whose manner of +housekeeping, and style of dress, did not exactly suit them; sometimes +about the minister himself, good, patient Mr. Tiverton, who vainly +imagined that if he preached three sermons a week, attended the +Wednesday evening prayer-meeting, the Thursday evening sewing society, +officiated at every funeral, visited all the sick, and gave to every +beggar who called at his door, besides superintending the Sunday +school, he was earning his salary of six hundred per year. + +Sometimes, and that not rarely, the quarrel crept into the choir, and +then, for one whole Sunday, it was all in vain that Mr. Tiverton read +the psalm and hymn, casting troubled glances toward the vacant seats of +his refractory singers. There was no one to respond, unless it were +good old Mr. Hodges, who pitched so high that few could follow him; +while Mrs. Captain Simpson—whose daughter, the organist, had been +snubbed at the last choir meeting by Mr. Hodges’ daughter, the alto +singer—rolled up her eyes at her next neighbor, or fanned herself +furiously in token of her disgust. + +Latterly, however, there had come up a new cause of quarrel, before +which every other cause sank into insignificance. Now, though the +village of Devonshire could boast but one public schoolhouse, said +house being divided into two departments, the upper and lower +divisions, there were in the town several district schools; and for the +last few years a committee of three had been annually appointed to +examine and decide upon the merits of the various candidates for +teaching, giving to each, if the decision were favorable, a little slip +of paper certifying their qualifications to teach a common school. +Strange that over such an office so fierce a feud should have arisen; +but when Mr. Tiverton, Squire Lamb and Lawyer Whittemore, in the full +conviction that they were doing right, refused a certificate of +scholarship to Laura Tisdale, niece of Mrs. Judge Tisdale, and awarded +it to one whose earnings in a factory had procured for her a thorough +English education, the villagers, to use a vulgar phrase, were at once +set by the ears, the aristocracy abusing, and the democracy upholding +the dismayed trio, who, as the breeze blew harder, quietly resigned +their office, and Devonshire was without a school committee. + +In this emergency something must be done, and, as the two belligerent +parties could only unite on a stranger, it seemed a matter of special +providence that only two months before, young Dr. Holbrook, a native of +modern Athens, had rented the pleasant little office on the village +common, formerly occupied by old Dr. Carey, now lying in the graveyard +by the side of some whose days he had prolonged, and others whose days +he had surely shortened. Besides being handsome, and skillful, and +quite as familiar with the poor as the rich, the young doctor was +descended from the aristocratic line of Boston Holbrooks, facts which +tended to make him a favorite with both classes; and, greatly to his +surprise, he found himself unanimously elected to the responsible +office of sole Inspector of Common Schools in Devonshire. It was in +vain that he remonstrated, saying he knew nothing whatever of the +qualifications requisite for a teacher; that he could not talk to +girls, young ones especially; that he should make a miserable failure, +and so forth. The people would not listen. Somebody must examine the +teachers and that somebody might as well be Dr. Holbrook as anybody. + +“Only be strict with ’em, draw the reins tight, find out to your +satisfaction whether a gal knows her P’s and Q’s before you give her a +stifficut. We’ve had enough of your ignoramuses,” said Colonel Lewis, +the democratic potentate to whom Dr. Holbrook was expressing his fears +that he should not give satisfaction. Then, as a bright idea suggested +itself to the old gentleman, he added: “I tell you what, just cut one +or two at first; that’ll give you a name for being particular, which is +just the thing.” + +Accordingly, with no definite idea as to what was expected of him, +except that he was to find out “whether a girl knew her P’s and Q’s,” +and was also to “cut one or two of the first candidates,” Dr. Holbrook +accepted the office, and then awaited rather nervously his initiation. +He was not easy in the society of ladies, unless, indeed, the lady +stood in need of his professional services, when he lost sight of _her_ +at once, and thought only of her disease. His patient once well, +however, he became nervously shy and embarrassed, retreating as soon as +possible from her presence to the covert of his friendly office, where, +with his boots upon the table and his head thrown back in a most +comfortable position, he sat one April morning, in happy oblivion of +the bevy of girls who must, of course, ere long-invade his sanctum. + +“Something for you, sir. The lady will wait for an answer,” said his +“chore boy,” passing to his master a little three-cornered note, and +nodding toward the street. + +Following the direction indicated, the doctor saw, drawn up near his +door, an old-fashioned one-horse wagon, such as is still occasionally +seen in New England. A square boxed, dark green wagon, drawn by a +sorrel horse, sometimes called by the genuine Yankee “yellow,” and +driven by a white-haired man, whose silvery locks, falling around his +wrinkled face, gave to him a pleasing, patriarchal appearance, which +interested the doctor far more than did the flutter of the blue ribbon +beside him, even though the bonnet that ribbon tied shaded the face of +a young girl. The note was from her, and, tearing it open, the doctor +read, in the prettiest of all pretty, girlish handwriting: + +“Dr. Holbrook.” + +Here it was plainly visible that a “D” had been written as if she would +have said “Dear.” Then, evidently changing her mind, she had with her +finger blotted out the “D,” and made it into an oddly shaped “S,” so +that it read simply: + +“Dr. Holbrook—Sir: Will you be at leisure to examine me on Monday +afternoon, at three o’clock? + + +“MADELINE A. CLYDE. + + +“P. S.—For particular reasons I hope you can attend to me as early as +Monday. M. A. C.” + + +Dr. Holbrook knew very little of girls, but he thought this note, with +its P. S., decidedly girlish. Still he made no comment, either verbal +or mental, so flurried was he with knowing that the evil he so much +dreaded had come upon him at last. Had it been left to his choice, he +would far rather have extracted every one of that maiden’s teeth, than +to have set himself up before her like some horrid ogre, asking what +she knew. But the choice was not his, and, turning to the boy, he said, +laconically, “Tell her to come.” + +Most men would have sought for a glimpse of the face under the bonnet +tied with blue, but Dr. Holbrook did not care a picayune whether it +were ugly or fair, though it did strike him that the voice was +singularly sweet, which, after the boy had delivered his message, said +to the old man, “Now, grandpa, we’ll go home. I know you must be +tired.” + +Slowly Sorrel trotted down the street, the blue ribbons fluttering in +the wind, while one little ungloved hand was seen carefully adjusting +about the old man’s shoulders the ancient camlet cloak which had done +duty for many a year, and was needed on this chill April day. The +doctor saw all this, and the impression left upon his mind was, that +Candidate No. 1 was probably a nice-ish kind of a girl, and very good +to her grandfather. But what should he ask her, and how demean himself +toward her? Monday afternoon was frightfully near, he thought, as this +was only Saturday; and then, feeling that he must be ready, he brought +out from the trunk, where, since his arrival in Devonshire, they had +bean quietly lying, books enough to have frightened an older person +than poor little Madeline Clyde, riding slowly home with grandpa, and +wishing so much that she’d had a glimpse of Dr. Holbrook, so as to know +what he was like, and hoping he would give her a chance to repeat some +of the many pages of geography and “Parley’s History,” which she knew +by heart. How she would have trembled could she have seen the +formidable volumes heaped upon his table and waiting for her. There +were French and Latin grammars, “Hamilton’s Metaphysics,” “Olmstead’s +Philosophy,” “Day’s Algebra,” “Butler’s Analogy,” and many others, into +which poor Madeline had never so much as looked. Arranging them in a +row, and half wishing himself back again to the days when he had +studied them, the doctor went out to visit his patients, of which there +were so many that Madeline Clyde entirely escaped his mind, nor did she +trouble him again until the dreaded Monday came, and the hands of his +watch pointed to two. + +“One hour more,” he said to himself, just as the roll of wheels and a +cloud of dust announced the approach of something. + +Could it be Sorrel and the square-boxed wagon? Oh, no; far different +from grandfather Clyde’s turnout was the stylish carriage and the +spirited bays dashing down the street, the colored driver reining them +suddenly, not before the office door, but just in front of the white +cottage in the same yard, the house where Dr. Holbrook boarded, and +where, if he ever married in Devonshire, he would most likely bring his +wife. + +“Guy Remington, the very chap of all others whom I’d rather see, and, +as I live, there’s Agnes, with Jessie. Who knew she was in these +parts?” was the doctor’s mental exclamation, as, running his fingers +through his hair and making a feint of pulling up the corners of his +rather limp collar, he hurried out to the carriage, from which a +dashing looking lady of thirty, or thereabouts, was alighting. + +“Why, Agnes, I beg your pardon, Mrs. Remington, when did you come?” he +asked, offering his hand to the lady, who, coquettishly shaking back +from her pretty, dollish face a profusion of light brown curls, gave +him the tips of her lavender kids, while she told him she had come to +Aikenside the Saturday before; and hearing, from Guy that the lady with +whom he boarded was an old friend of hers, she had driven over to call, +and brought Jessie with her. “Here, Jessie, speak to the doctor. He was +poor dear papa’s friend,” and a very proper sigh escaped Agnes +Remington’s lips as she pushed a little curly-haired girl toward Dr. +Holbrook. + +The lady of the house had spied them by this time, and came running +down the walk to meet her rather distinguished visitor, wondering, it +may be, to what she was indebted for this call from one who, since her +marriage with the supposed wealthy Dr. Remington, had rather cut her +former acquaintances. Agnes was delighted to see her, and, as Guy +declined entering the cottage just then, the two friends disappeared +within the door, while the doctor and Guy repaired to the office, the +latter sitting down in the very chair intended for Madeline Clyde. This +reminded the doctor of his perplexity, and also brought the comforting +thought that Guy, who had never failed him yet, could surely offer some +suggestions. But he would not speak of her just now; he had other +matters to talk about, and so, jamming his penknife into a pine table +covered with similar jams, he said: “Agnes, it seems, has come to +Aikenside, notwithstanding she declared she never would, when she found +that the whole of the Remington property belonged to your mother, and +not your father.” + +“Oh, yes. She got over her pique as soon as I settled a handsome little +income on Jessie, and, in fact, on her too, until she is foolish enough +to marry again, when it will cease, of course, as I do not feel it my +duty to support any man’s wife, unless it be my own, or my father’s,” +was Guy Remington’s reply; whereupon the penknife went again into the +table, and this time with so much force that the point was broken off; +but the doctor did not mind it, and with the jagged end continued to +make jagged marks, while he continued: “She’ll hardly marry again, +though she may. She’s young—not over twenty-six—- + +“Twenty-eight, if the family Bible does not lie; but she’d never +forgive me if she knew I told you that. So let it pass that she’s +twenty-six. She certainly is not more than three years your senior, a +mere nothing, if you wish to make her Mrs. Holbrook;” and Guy’s dark +eyes scanned curiously the doctor’s face, as if seeking there for the +secret of his proud young stepmother’s anxiety to visit plain Mrs. +Conner that afternoon. But the doctor only laughed merrily at the idea +of his being father to Guy, his college chum and long-tried friend. + +Agnes Remington—reclining languidly in Mrs. Conner’s easy-chair, and +overwhelming her former friend with descriptions of the gay parties she +had attended in Boston, and the fine sights she saw in Europe, whither +her gray-haired husband had taken her for a wedding tour—would not have +felt particularly flattered, could she have seen that smile, or heard +how easily, from talking of her, Dr. Holbrook turned to another theme, +to Madeline Clyde, expected now almost every moment. There was a merry +laugh on Guy’s part, as he listened to the doctor’s story, and, when it +was finished, he said: “Why, I see nothing so very distasteful in +examining a pretty girl, and puzzling her, to see her blush. I half +wish I were in your place. I should enjoy the novelty of the thing.” +“Oh, take it, then; take my place, Guy,” the doctor exclaimed, eagerly. +“She does not know me from Adam. Here are books, all you will need. You +went to a district school once a week when you were staying in the +country. You surely have some idea, while I have not the slightest. +Will you, Guy?” he persisted more earnestly, as he heard wheels in the +street, and was sure old Sorrel had come again. + +Guy Remington liked anything savoring of a frolic, but in his mind +there were certain conscientious scruples touching the justice of the +thing, and so at first he demurred; while the doctor still insisted, +until at last he laughingly consented to commence the examination, +provided the doctor would sit by, and occasionally come to his aid. + +“You must write the certificate, of course,” he said, “testifying that +she is qualified to teach.” + +“Yes, certainly, Guy, if she is; but maybe she won’t be, and my orders +are, to be strict—very strict.” + +“How did she look?” Guy asked, and the doctor replied: “Saw nothing but +her bonnet. Came in a queer old go-giggle of a wagon, such as your +country farmers drive. Guess she won’t be likely to stir up the bile of +either of us, particularly as I am bullet proof, and you have been +engaged for years. By the way, when do you cross the sea again for the +fair Lucy? Rumor says this summer.” + +“Rumor is wrong, as usual, then,” was Guy’s reply, a soft light +stealing into his handsome eyes. Then, after a moment, he added: “Miss +Atherstone’s health is far too delicate for her to incur the risks of a +climate like ours. If she were well acclimated, I should be glad, for +it is terribly lonely up at Aikenside.” + +“And do you really think a wife would make it pleasanter?” Dr Holbrook +asked, the tone of his voice indicating a little doubt as to a man’s +being happier for having a helpmate to share his joys and sorrows. + +But no such doubts dwelt in the mind of Guy Remington. Eminently fitted +for domestic happiness, he looked forward anxiously to the time when +sweet Lucy Atherstone, the fair English girl to whom he had become +engaged when, four years before, he visited Europe, should be strong +enough to bear transplanting to American soil. Twice since his +engagement he had visited her, finding her always lovely, gentle, and +yielding. Too yielding, it sometimes seemed to him, while occasionally +the thought had flashed upon him that she did not possess a very +remarkable depth of intellect. But he said to himself, he did not care; +he hated strong-minded women, and would far rather his wife should be a +little weak than masculine, like his Aunt Margaret, who sometimes wore +bloomers, and advocated women’s rights. Yes, he greatly preferred Lucy +Atherstone, as she was, to a wife like the stately Margaret, or like +Agnes, his pretty stepmother, who only thought how she could best +attract attention; and as it had never occurred to him that there might +be a happy medium, that a woman need not be brainless to be feminine +and gentle, he was satisfied with his choice, as well he might be, for +a fairer, sweeter flower never bloomed than Lucy Atherstone, his +affianced bride. Guy loved to think of Lucy, and as the doctor’s +remarks brought her to his mind, he went off into a reverie concerning +her, becoming so lost in thought that until the doctor’s hand was laid +upon his shoulder by way of rousing him, he did not see that what his +friend had designated as a go-giggle was stopping in front of the +office, and that from it a young girl was alighting. + +Naturally very polite to females, Guy’s first impulse was to go to her +assistance, but she did not need it, as was proven by the light spring +with which she reached the ground. The white-haired man was with her +again, but he evidently did not intend to stop, and a close observer +might have detected a shade of sadness and anxiety upon his face as +Madeline called cheerily out to him: “Good-by, grandpa. Don’t fear for +me; I hope you have good luck;” then, as he drove away, she ran a step +after him and said; “Don’t look so sorry, for if Mr. Remington won’t +let you have the money, there’s my pony, Beauty. I am willing to give +him up.” + +“Never, Maddy. It’s all the little fortin’ you’ve got. I’ll let the old +place go first;” and, chirruping to Sorrel, the old man drove on, while +Madeline walked, with a beating heart, to the office door, knocking +timidly. + +Glancing involuntarily at each other, the young men exchanged meaning +smiles, while the doctor whispered softly: “Verdant—that’s sure. Wonder +if she’ll knock at a church.” + +As Guy sat nearest the door, it was he who held it ajar while Madeline +came in, her soft brown eyes glistening with something like a tear, and +her cheeks burning with excitement as she took the chair indicated by +Guy Remington, who unconsciously found himself master of ceremonies. + +Poor little Madeline! + + + + +CHAPTER II. +MADELINE CLYDE. + + +Madge her schoolmates called her, because the name suited her, they +said; but Maddy they called her at home, and there was a world of +unutterable tenderness in the voices of the old couple, her +grandparents, when they said that name, while their dim eyes lighted up +with pride and joy when they rested upon the young girl who answered to +the name of Maddy. Their only daughter’s only child, she had lived with +them since her mother’s death, for her father was a sea captain, who +never returned from his last voyage to China, made two months before +she was born. Very lonely and desolate would the home of Grandfather +Markham have been without the presence of Madeline, but with her there, +the old red farmhouse seemed to the aged couple like a paradise. + +Forty years they had lived there, tilling the rather barren soil of the +rocky homestead, and, saving the sad night when they heard that Richard +Clyde was lost at sea, and the far sadder morning when their daughter +died, bitter sorrow had not come to them; and, truly thankful for the +blessings so long vouchsafed them, they had retired each night in peace +with God and man, and risen each morning to pray. But a change was +coming over them. In an evil hour Grandpa Markham had signed a note for +a neighbor and friend, who failed to pay, and so it all fell on Mr. +Markham, who, to meet the demand, mortgaged his homestead; the recreant +neighbor still insisting that long before the mortgage should be due, +he certainly would be able himself to meet it. This, however, he had +not done, and, after twice begging off a foreclosure, poor old +Grandfather Markham found himself at the mercy of a grasping, +remorseless man, into whose hands the mortgage had passed. It was vain +to hope that Silas Slocum would wait. The money must either be +forthcoming, or the red farmhouse be sold, with its few acres of land. +Among his neighbors there was not one who had the money to spare, even +if they had been willing to do so. And so he must look among strangers. + +“If I could only help,” Madeline had said one evening when they sat +talking over their troubles; “but there’s nothing I can do, unless I +apply for our school this summer. Mr. Green is committeeman; he likes +us, and I don’t believe but what he’ll let me have it. I mean to go and +see;” and, ere the old people had recovered from their astonishment, +Madeline had caught her bonnet and shawl, and was flying down the road. + +Madeline was a favorite with all, especially with Mr. Green, and as the +school would be small that summer, the plan struck him favorably. Her +age, however, was an objection, and he must take time to see what +others thought of a child like her becoming a schoolmistress. Others +thought well of it, and so before the close of the next day it was +generally known through Honedale, as the southern part of Devonshire +was called, that pretty little Madge Clyde had been engaged as teacher, +she receiving three dollars a week, with the understanding that she +must board herself. It did not take Madeline long to calculate that +twelve times three were thirty-six, more than a tenth of what her +grandfather must borrow. It seemed like a little fortune, and blithe as +a singing bird she flitted about the house, now stopping a moment to +fondle her pet kitten, while she whispered the good news in its very +appreciative ear, and then stroking her grandfather’s silvery hair, as +she said: + +“You can tell them that you are sure of paying thirty-six dollars in +the fall, and if I do well, maybe they’ll hire me longer. I mean to try +my very best. I wonder if ever anybody before me taught a school when +they were only fourteen and a half. Do I look as young as that?” and +for an instant the bright; childish face scanned itself eagerly in the +old-fashioned mirror, with the figure of an eagle on the top. + +She did look very young, and yet there was something womanly, too, in +the expression of the face, something which said that life’s realities +were already beginning to be understood by her. + +“If my hair were not short I should do better. What a pity I cut it the +last time; it would have been so long and splendid now,” she continued, +giving a kind of contemptuous pull at the thick, beautiful brown hair +on whose glossy surface there was in certain lights a reddish tinge, +which added to its beauty. + +“Never mind the hair, Maddy,” the old man said, gazing fondly at her +with a half sigh as he remembered another brown head, pillowed now +beneath the graveyard turf. “Maybe you won’t pass muster, and then the +hair will make no difference. There’s a new committee-man, that Dr. +Holbrook, from Boston, and new ones are apt to be mighty strict.” + +Instantly Maddy’s face flushed all over with nervous dread, as she +thought: “What if I should fail?” fancying that to do so would be an +eternal disgrace. But she should not. She was called by everybody the +very best scholar in school, the one whom the teachers always put +forward when desirous of showing off, the one whom Mr. Tiverton, and +Squire Lamb, and Lawyer Whittemore always noticed so much. Of course +she should not fail, though she did dread Dr. Holbrook, wondering much +what he would ask her first, and hoping it would be something in +arithmetic, provided he did not stumble upon decimals, where she was +apt to get bewildered. She had no fears of grammar. She could pick out +the most obscure sentence and dissect a double relative with perfect +ease; then, as to geography, she could repeat whole pages of that, +while in the spelling-book, the foundation of a thorough education, as +she had been taught, she had no superiors, and but a very few equals. +Still she would be very glad when it was over, and she appointed +Monday, both because it was close at hand, and because that was the day +her grandfather had set in which to ride to Aikenside, in an adjoining +town, and ask its young master for the loan of three hundred dollars. + +He could hardly tell why he had thought of applying to Guy Remington +for help, unless it were that he once had saved the life of Guy’s +father, who, as long as he lived, had evinced a great regard for his +benefactor, frequently asserting that he meant to do something for him. +But the something was never done, the father was dead, and in his +strait the old man turned to the son, whom he knew to be very rich, and +who he had been told was exceedingly generous. + +“How I wish I could go with you clear up to Aikenside! They say it’s so +beautiful,” Madeline had said, as on Saturday evening they sat +discussing the expected events of the following Monday. “Mrs. Noah, the +housekeeper, had Sarah Jones there once, to sew, and she told me all +about it. There are graveled walks, and nice green lawns, and big, tall +trees, and flowers—oh! so many!—and marble fountains, with gold fishes +in the basin; and statues, big as folks, all over the yard, with two +brass lions on the gateposts. But the house is finest of all. There’s a +drawing-room bigger than a ballroom, with carpets that let your feet +sink in so far; pictures and mirrors clear to the floor—think of that, +grandpa! a looking-glass so tall that one can see the very bottom of +their dress and know just how it hangs. Oh, I do so wish I could have a +peep at it! There are two in one room, and the windows are like doors, +with lace curtains; but what is queerest of all, the chairs and sofas +are covered with real silk, just like that funny, gored gown of +grandma’s up in the oak chest. Dear me! I wonder if I’ll ever live in +such a place as Aikenside?” + +“No, no, Maddy, no. Be satisfied with the lot where God has put you, +and don’t be longing after something higher, Our Father in heaven knows +just what is best for us; as He didn’t see fit to put you up at +Aikenside, ’tain’t noways likely you’ll ever live in the like of it.” + +“Not unless I should happen to marry a rich man. Poor girls like me +have sometimes done that, haven’t they?” was Maddy’s demure reply. + +Grandpa Markham shook his head. + +“They have, but it’s mostly their ruination; so don’t build castles in +the air about this Guy Remington.” + +“Me! Oh, grandpa, I never dreamed of Mr. Guy!” and Madeline blushed +half indignantly. “He’s too rich, too aristocratic, though Sarah said +he didn’t act one bit proud, and was so pleasant, the servants all +worship him, and Mrs. Noah thinks him good enough for the Queen of +England. I shall think so, too, if he lets you have the money. How I +wish it was Monday night, so we could know sure!” + +“Perhaps we both shall be terribly disappointed,” suggested grandpa, +but Maddy was more hopeful. + +She, at least, would not fail, while what she had heard of Guy +Remington, the heir of Aikenside, made her believe that he would accede +at once to her grandpa’s request. + +All that night she was working to pay the debt, giving the money +herself into the hands of Guy Remington, whom she had never seen, but +who came up in her dreams the tall, handsome-looking man she had so +often heard described by Sarah Jones after her return from Aikenside. +Even the next day, when, by her grandparent’s side, Maddy knelt +reverently in the small, time-worn church at Honedale, her thoughts, it +must be confessed, were wandering more to the to-morrow and Aikenside, +than to the sacred words her lips were uttering. She knew it was wrong, +and with a nervous start would try to bring her mind back from decimal +fractions to what the minister was saying; but Maddy was mortal, and +right in the midst of the Collect, Aikenside and its owner would rise +before her, together with the wonder how she and her grandfather would +feel one week from that Sabbath day. Would the desired certificate be +hers? or would she be disgraced forever and ever by a rejection? Would +the mortgage be paid and her grandfather at ease, or would his heart be +breaking with the knowing he must leave what had been his home for so +many years? Not thus was it with the aged disciple beside her—the good +old man, whose white locks swept the large lettered book over which his +wrinkled face was bent, as he joined in the responses, or said the +prayers whose words had over him so soothing an influence, carrying his +thoughts upward to the house not made with hands, which he felt assured +would one day be his. Once or twice, it is true, thoughts of losing the +dear old red cottage flitted across his mind with a keen, sudden pang, +but he put it quickly aside, remembering at the same instant how the +Father he loved doeth all things well to such as are His children. +Grandpa Markham was old in the Christian course, while Maddy could +hardly be said to have commenced as yet, and so to her that April +Sunday was long and wearisome. How she did wish she might just look +over the geography, by way of refreshing her memory, or see exactly how +the rule for extracting the cube root did read, but Maddy forebore, +reading only the Pilgrim’s Progress, the Bible, and the book brought +from the Sunday school. + +With the earliest dawn, however, she was up, and her grandmother heard +her repeating to herself much of what she dreaded Dr. Holbrook might +question her upon. Even when bending over the washtub, for there were +no servants at the red cottage, a book was arranged before her so that +she could study with her eyes, while her small, fat hands and dimpled +arms were busy in the suds. Before ten o’clock everything was done, the +clothes, white as the snowdrops in the garden beds, were swinging on +the line, the kitchen floor was scrubbed, the windows washed, the best +room swept, the vegetables cleaned for dinner, and then Maddy’s work +was finished. “Grandma could do all the rest,” she said, and Madeline +was free “to put her eyes out over them big books if she liked.” + +Swiftly flew the hours until it was time to be getting ready, when +again the short hair was deplored, as before her looking-glass Madeline +brushed and arranged her shining, beautiful locks. Would Dr. Holbrook +think of her age? Suppose he should ask it. But no, he wouldn’t. If Mr. +Green thought her old enough, surely it was not a matter with which the +doctor need trouble himself; and, somewhat at ease on that point, +Madeline donned her longest frock, and, standing in a chair, tried to +discover how much of her pantalets was visible. + +“I could see splendidly in Mr. Remington’s mirrors,” she said to +herself, with a half sigh of regret that her lot had not been cast in +some such place as Aikenside, instead of there beneath the hill in that +wee bit of a cottage, whose rear slanted back until it almost touched +the ground. “After all, I guess I’m happier here,” she thought. +“Everybody likes me, while if I were Mr. Guy’s sister and lived at +Aikenside, I might be proud and wicked, and—” + +She did not finish the sentence, but somehow the story of Dives and +Lazarus, read by her grandfather that morning, recurred to her mind, +and feeling how much rather she would rest in Abraham’s bosom than +share the fate of him who once was clothed in purple and fine linen she +pinned on her little neat plaid shawl, and, tying the blue ribbons of +her coarse straw hat, glanced once more at the formidable cube root, +and then hurried down to where her grandfather and old Sorrel were +waiting for her. + +“I shall be so happy when I come back, because it will then be over, +just like having a tooth out, you know,” she said to her grandmother, +who bent down for the good-by kiss without which Maddy never left her. +“Now, grandpa, drive on; I was to be there at three,” and chirruping +herself to Sorrel, the impatient Madge went riding from the cottage +door, chatting cheerily until the village of Devonshire was reached; +then, with a farewell to her grandfather, who never dreamed that the +man whom he was seeking was so near, she tripped up the flagging walk, +and, as we have seen, soon stood in the presence of not only Dr. +Holbrook, but also of Guy Remington. + +Poor, poor little Madge! + + + + +CHAPTER III. +THE EXAMINATION. + + +It was Guy who received her, Guy who pointed to a chair, Guy who seemed +perfectly at home, and, naturally enough, she took him for Dr. +Holbrook, wondering who the other black-haired man could be, and if he +meant to stay in there all the while. It would be very dreadful if he +did, and in her agitation and excitement the cube root was in danger of +being altogether forgotten. Half guessing the cause of her uneasiness, +and feeling more averse than ever to taking part in the matter, the +doctor, after a hasty survey of her person, withdrew into the +background, and sat where he could not be seen. This brought the short +dress into full view, together with the dainty little foot, nervously +beating the floor. + +“She’s very young,” he thought; “too young, by far,” and Maddy’s +chances of success were beginning to decline even before a word had +been spoken. + +How terribly still it was for the time, during which telegraphic +communications were silently passing between Guy and the doctor, the +latter shaking his head decidedly, while the former insisted that he +should do his duty. Madeline could almost hear the beatings of her +heart, and only by counting and recounting the poplar trees growing +across the street could she keep back the tears. What was he waiting +for, she wondered, and, at last, summoning all her courage, she lifted +her great brown eyes to Guy, and said, pleadingly: + +“Would you be so kind, sir, as to begin?” + +“Yes, certainly,” and electrified by that young, bird-like voice, the +sweetest save one he had ever heard, Guy knocked down from the pile of +books the only one at all appropriate to the occasion, the others being +as far beyond what was taught in the district schools as his classical +education was beyond Madeline’s common one. + +Remembering that the teacher of whom he had once been for a week a +pupil, in the town of Framingham, had commenced operations by +sharpening a lead pencil, so he now sharpened a similar one, +determining as far as he could to follow that teacher’s example. Maddy +counted every fragment as it fell upon the floor, wishing so much that +he would commence, and fancying that it would not be half so bad to +have him approach her with some one of those terrible dental +instruments lying before her, as it was to sit and wait as she was +waiting. Had Guy Remington reflected a little, he would never have +consented to do the doctor’s work; but, unaccustomed to country usages, +especially those pertaining to schools and teachers, he did not +consider that it mattered which examined that young girl, himself or +Dr. Holbrook. Viewing it somewhat in the light of a joke, he rather +enjoyed it; and as the Framingham teacher had first asked her pupils +their names and ages, so he, when the pencil was sharpened +sufficiently, startled Madeline by asking her name. + +“Madeline Amelia Clyde,” was the meek reply, which Guy quickly +recorded. + +Now, Guy Remington intended no irreverence; indeed, he could not tell +what he did intend, or what it was which prompted his next query: + +“Who gave you this name?” + +Perhaps he fancied himself a boy again in the Sunday school, and +standing before the railing of the altar, where, with others of his +age, he had been asked the question propounded to Madeline Clyde, who +did not hear the doctor’s smothered laugh as he retreated into the +adjoining room. + +In all her preconceived ideas of this examination, she had never +dreamed of being catechised, and with a feeling of terror as she +thought of that long answer to the question, “What is thy duty to thy +neighbor?” and doubted her ability to repeat it, she said: “My +sponsors, in baptism gave me the first name of Madeline Amelia, sir,” +adding, as she caught and misconstrued the strange gleam in the dark +eyes bent upon her, “I am afraid I have forgotten some of the +catechism; I did not know it was necessary in order to teach school.” + +“Certainly, no; I do not think it is. I beg your pardon,” were Guy +Remington’s ejaculatory replies, as he glanced from Madeline to the +open door of the adjoining room, where was visible a slate, on which, +in huge letters, the amused doctor had written “Blockhead.” + +There was something in Madeline’s quiet, womanly, earnest manner which +commanded Guy’s respect, or he would have given vent to the laughter +which was choking him, and thrown off his disguise. But he could not +bear now to undeceive her, and, resolutely turning his back upon the +doctor, he sat down by that pile of books and commenced the examination +in earnest, asking first her age. + +“Going on fifteen,” sounded older to Madeline than “Fourteen and a +half,” so “Going on fifteen” was the reply, to which Guy responded: +“That is very young, Miss Clyde.” + +“Yes, but Mr. Green did not mind. He’s the committeeman. He knew how +young I was,” Madeline said, eagerly, her great brown eyes growing +large with the look of fear which came so suddenly into them. + +Guy noticed the eyes then, and thought them very bright and handsome +for brown, but not so bright or handsome as a certain pair of soft blue +orbs he knew, and feeling a thrill of satisfaction that sweet Lucy +Atherstone was not obliged to sit there in that doctor’s office to be +questioned by him or any other man, he said: “Of course, if your +employers are satisfied it is nothing to me, only I had associated +teaching with women much older than yourself. What is logic, Miss +Clyde?” + +The abruptness with which he put the question startled Madeline to such +a degree that she could not positively tell whether she had ever heard +that word before, much less could she recall its meaning, and so she +answered frankly, “I don’t know.” + +A girl who did not know what logic was did not know much, in Guy’s +estimation, but it would not do to stop here, and so he asked her next +how many cases there were in Latin! + +Maddy felt the hot blood tingling to her very fingertips, the +examination had taken a course so widely different from her ideas of +what it would probably be. She had never looked inside a Latin grammar, +and again her truthful “I don’t know, sir,” fell on Guy’s ear, but this +time there was a half despairing tone in the young voice usually so +hopeful. + +“Perhaps, then, you can conjugate the verb _Amo,_” Guy said, his manner +indicating the doubt he was beginning to feel as to her qualifications. + +Maddy knew well what “conjugate” meant, but that verb _Amo_, what could +it mean? and had she ever heard it before? Mr. Remington was waiting +for her; she must say something, and with a gasp she began: “I amo, +thou amoest, he amoes. Plural: We amo, ye or you amo, they amo.” + +Guy looked at her aghast for a single moment, and then a comical smile +broke all over his face, telling poor Maddy plainer than words could +have done, that she had made a most ridiculous mistake. + +“Oh, sir,” she cried, her eyes wearing the look of the frightened hare, +“it is not right. I don’t know what it means. Tell me, teach me. What +is it to amo?” + +To most men it would not have seemed a very disagreeable task, teaching +young Madeline Clyde “to amo,” as she termed it, and some such idea +flitted across Guy’s mind, as he thought how pretty and bright was the +eager face upturned to his, the pure white forehead, suffused with a +faint flush, the cheeks a crimson hue, and the pale lips parted +slightly as Maddy appealed to him for the definition of “amo.” + +“It is a Latin verb, and means ‘to love’” Guy said, with an emphasis on +the last word, which would have made Maddy blush had she been less +anxious and frightened. + +Thus far she had answered nothing correctly, and, feeling puzzled to +know how to proceed, Guy stepped into the adjoining room to consult +with the doctor, but he was gone. So returning again to Madeline, Guy +resumed the examination by asking her how “minus into minus could +produce plus.” + +Again Maddy was at fault, and her low-spoken “I don’t know” sounded +like a wail of despair. Did she know anything, Guy wondered, and +feeling some curiosity now to ascertain that fact, he plied her with +questions philosophical, questions algebraical, and questions +geometrical, until in an agony of distress Maddy raised her hands +deprecatingly, as if she would ward off any similar questions, and +sobbed out: + +“Oh, sir, no more. It makes my head so dizzy. They don’t teach that in +common schools. Ask me something I do know.” + +Suddenly it occurred to Guy that he had gone entirely wrong, and +mentally cursing himself for the blockhead the doctor had called him, +he asked, kindly: + +“What do they teach? Perhaps you can enlighten me?” + +“Geography, arithmetic, grammar, history, and spelling-book,” Madeline +replied, untying and throwing off her bonnet, in the vain hope that it +might bring relief to her poor, giddy head, which throbbed so fearfully +that all her ideas seemed for the time to have left her. + +This was a natural consequence of the high excitement under which she +was laboring, and so, when Guy did ask her concerning the books +designated, she answered but little better than before, and Guy was +wondering what he should do next, when the doctor’s welcome step was +heard, and leaving Madeline again, he repaired to the next room to +report his ill success. + +“She does not seem to know anything. The veriest child ought to do +better than she has done. Why, she has scarcely answered half a dozen +questions correctly.” + +This was what poor Maddy heard, though it was spoken in a low whisper; +but every word was distinctly understood and burned into her heart’s +core, drying her tears and hardening her into a block of marble. She +knew that Guy had not done her justice, and this helped to increase the +torpor stealing over her. Still she did not lose a syllable of what was +saying in the back office, and her lip curled scornfully when she heard +Guy remark: “I pity her; she is so young, and evidently takes it so +hard. Maybe she’s as good as they average. Suppose we give her the +certificate.” + +Then Dr. Holbrook spoke, but to poor, dazed Maddy his words were all a +riddle. It was nothing to him—who was he that he should be dictating +thus? There seemed to be a difference of opinion between the young men, +Guy insisting that out of pity she should not be rejected; and the +doctor demurring on the ground that he ought to be more strict. As +usual, Guy overruled, and seating himself at the table, the doctor was +just commencing: “I hereby certify—” while Guy was bending over him, +when the latter was startled by a hand laid firmly on his arm, and +turning quickly he confronted Madeline Clyde, who, with her short hair +pushed from her blue-veined forehead, her face as pale as ashes, save +where a round spot of purplish red burned upon her cheeks, and her eyes +gleaming like coals of fire, stood before him. + +“He need not write that,” she said, huskily, pointing to the doctor, +“It would be a lie, and I could not take it. You do not think me +qualified. I heard you say so. I do not want to be pitied. I do not +want a certificate because I am so young, and you think I’ll feel +badly. I do not want—” + +Her voice failed her, her bosom heaved, and the choking sobs came thick +and fast, but still she shed no tear, and in her bright, dry eyes there +was a look which made both those young men turn away involuntarily. +Once Guy tried to excuse her failure, saying she no doubt was +frightened. She would probably do better again, and might as well +accept the certificate, but Madeline still said no, so decidedly that +further remonstrance was useless. She would not take what she had no +right to, she said, but if they pleased she would wait there in the +back office until her grandfather came back; it would not be long, and +she should not trouble them. + +Guy brought her the easy-chair from the front room and placed it for +her by the window. With a faint smile she thanked him and said: “You +are very kind,” but the smile hurt Guy cruelly, it was so sad, so full +of unintentional reproach, while the eyes she lifted to his looked so +grieved and weary that he insensibly murmured to himself: “Poor child!” +as he left her, and with the doctor repaired to the house, where Agnes +was impatiently waiting for them. Poor, poor little Madge! Let those +smile who may at her distress; it was the first keen disappointment she +had ever had, and it crushed her as completely as many an older person +has been crushed by heavier calamities. + +“Disgraced for ever and ever,” she kept repeating to herself, as she +tried to shake off the horrid nightmare stealing over her. “How can I +hold up my head again at home where nobody will understand just how it +was; nobody but grandpa and grandma? Oh, grandpa, I can’t earn that +thirty-six dollars now. I most wish I was dead, and I am—I am dying. +Somebody—come—quick!” + +There was a heavy fall, and while in Mrs. Conner’s parlor Guy Remington +and Dr. Holbrook were chatting gayly with Agnes, a childish figure was +lying upon the office floor, white, stiff, and insensible. + +Little Jessie Remington, tired of sitting still and listening to what +her mamma and Mrs. Conner were saying, had strayed off into the garden, +and after filling her chubby hands with daffodils and early violets, +wended her way to the office, the door of which was partially ajar. +Peering curiously in, she saw the crumpled bonnet, with its ribbons of +blue, and, attracted by this, advanced into the room, until she came +where Madeline was lying. With a feeling that something was wrong, +Jessie bent over the prostrate girl, asking if she were asleep, and +lifting next the long, fringed lashes drooping on the colorless cheek. +The dull, dead expression of the eyes sent a chill through Jessie’s +frame, and hurrying to the house she cried: “Oh, Brother Guy, +somebody’s dead in the office, and her bonnet is all jammed!” + +Scarcely were the words uttered ere Guy and the doctor both were with +Madeline, the former holding her tenderly in his arms, while he +smoothed the short hair, thinking even then how soft and luxuriant it +was, and how fair was the face which never moved a muscle beneath his +scrutiny. The doctor was wholly self-possessed. Maddy had no terrors +for him now. She needed his services, and he rendered them willingly, +applying restoratives which soon brought back signs of life in the +rigid form. With a shiver and a moan Madeline whispered: “Oh, grandma, +I’m so tired,” and nestled closer to the bosom where she had never +dreamed of lying. + +By this time both Mrs. Conner and Agnes had come out, asking in much +surprise who the stranger could be, and what was the cause of her +illness. As if there had been a previous understanding between them, +the doctor and Guy were silent with regard to the recent farce enacted +there, simply saying it was possible she was in the habit of fainting; +many people were. Very daintily, Agnes held up and back the skirt of +her rich silk as if fearful that it might come in contact with +Madeline’s plain delaine; then, as it was not very interesting for her +to stand and see the doctor “make so much fuss over a young girl,” as +she mentally expressed it, she returned to the house, bidding Jessie do +the same. But Jessie refused, choosing to stay by Madeline, whom they +placed upon the comfortable lounge, which she preferred to being taken +to the house, as Guy proposed. + +“I’m better now, much better,” she said. “Leave me, please. I’d rather +be alone.” + +So they left her, all but Jessie, who, fascinated by the sweet young +face, climbed upon the lounge and, laying her curly head caressingly +against Madeline’s arm, said to her: “Poor girl, you’re sick, and I am +so sorry. What makes you sick?” + +There was genuine sympathy in that little voice, and it opened the +pent-up flood beating so furiously, and roused Maddy’s heart. With a +cry as of sudden pain she clasped the child in her arms and wept out a +wild, stormy fit of weeping which did her so much good. Forgetting that +Jessie could not understand, and feeling it a relief to tell her grief +to some one, she said, in reply to Jessie’s oft repeated inquiries as +to what was the matter: “I did not get a certificate, and I wanted it +so much, for we are poor, and our house is mortgaged, and I was going +to help grandpa pay it.” + +“It’s dreadful to be poor!” sighed little Jessie, as her waxen fingers +threaded the soft, nut-brown hair resting in her lap, where Maddy had +lain her aching head. + +Maddy did not know who this beautiful child was, but her sympathy was +very sweet, and they talked together as children will, until Mrs. +Agnes’ voice was heard calling to her little girl that it was time to +go. + +“I love you, Maddy, and I mean to tell brother about it,” Jessie said, +as she wound her arms around Madeline’s neck and kissed her at parting. + +It never occurred to Maddy to ask her name, so stupified she felt, and +with a responsive kiss she sent her away. Leaning her head upon the +table, she forgot all but her own wretchedness, and so did not see the +gayly-dressed, haughty-looking lady who swept past the door, +accompanied by Guy and Dr. Holbrook. Neither did she hear, or notice, +if she did, the hum of their voices as they talked together for a +moment, Agnes asking the doctor very prettily to come up to Aikenside +while she was there, and bring his ladylove. Engaged young men like Guy +were so stupid, she said, as with a merry laugh she sprang into the +carriage; and, bowing gracefully to the doctor, was driven rapidly +toward Aikenside. + +Rather slowly the doctor returned to the office, and after fidgeting +for a time among the powders and phials, summoned courage to ask +Madeline how she felt, and if any of the fainting symptoms had +returned. + +“No, sir,” was all the reply she gave him, never lifting up her head, +or even thinking which of the two young men it was speaking to her. + +There was a call just then for Dr. Holbrook, and leaving his office in +charge of Tom, his chore boy, he went away, feeling slightly +uncomfortable whenever he thought of the girl to whom he felt that +justice had not been done. + +“I half wish I had examined her myself,” he said. “Of course she was +excited, and could not answer; beside, hanged if I don’t believe it was +all humbug tormenting her with Greek and Latin. Yes; I’ll question her +when I get back, and if she’ll possibly pass, give her the certificate. +Poor child; how white she was, and what a queer look there was in those +great eyes, when she said: ‘I shall not take it.’” + +Never in his life before had Dr. Holbrook been as much interested in +any female who was not sick as he was in Madeline, and determining to +make his call on Mrs. Briggs as brief as possible, he alighted at her +gate, and knocked impatiently at her door. He found her pretty sick, +while both her children needed a prescription, and so long a time was +he detained that his heart misgave him on his homeward route, lest +Maddy should be gone, and with her the chance to remedy the wrong he +might have done her. + +Maddy was gone, and the wheel ruts of the square-boxed wagon were fresh +before the door when he came back. Grandpa Markham had returned, and +Madeline, who recognized old Sorrel’s step, had gathered her shawl +around her and gone sadly out to meet him. One look at her face was +sufficient. + +“You failed, Maddy?” the old man said, fixing about her feet the warm +buffalo robe, for the night wind was blowing cool. + +“Yes, grandpa, I failed.” + +They were out of the village and more than a mile on their way home +before Madeline found voice to say so much, and they were nearer home +by half a mile ere the old man answered back: + +“And, Maddy, I failed too.” + + + + +CHAPTER IV. +GRANDPA MARKHAM. + + +Mrs. Noah, the housekeeper at Aikenside, was slicing vegetable oysters +for the nice little dish intended for her own supper, when the head of +Sorrel came around the corner of the building, followed by the +square-boxed wagon containing Grandpa Markham, who, bewildered by the +beauty and spaciousness of the grounds, and wholly uncertain as to +where he ought to stop, had driven over the smooth-graveled road around +to the front kitchen door, Mrs. Noah’s spacious domain, as sacred as +Betsey Trotwood’s patch of green. + +“In the name of wonder, what codger is that? and what is he doing +here?” was Mrs. Noah’s exclamation, as she dropped the bit of salsify +she was scraping, and hurrying to the door, called out: “I say, you, +sir, what made you drive up here, when I’ve said over and over again, +that I wouldn’t have wheels tearing up turf and gravel?” + +“I—I beg your pardon. I lost my way, I guess, there was so many +turnin’s, I’m sorry, but a little rain will fetch it right,” grandpa +said, glancing ruefully at the ruts in the gravel and the marks on the +turf. + +Mrs. Noah was not at heart an unkind woman, and something in the +benignant expression of grandpa’s face, or in the apologetic tone of +his voice, mollified her somewhat, and without further comment she +stood waiting for his next remark. It was a most unfortunate one, for +though as free from weakness as most of her sex, Mrs. Noah was terribly +sensitive as to her age, and the same census-taker would never venture +twice within her precincts. Glancing at her dress, which was this +leisure afternoon much smarter than usual, grandpa concluded she could +not be a servant; and as she seemed to have a right to say where he +should drive and where he should not, the meek old man concluded she +was a near relation of Guy—mother, perhaps; but no, Guy’s mother was +dead, as grandpa well knew, for all Devonshire had heard of the young +bride Agnes, who had married Guy’s father for money and rank. To have +been mistaken for Guy’s mother would not have offended Mrs. Noah +particularly; but how was she shocked when Grandpa Markham said: + +“I come on business with Squire Guy. Are you his gran’marm?” “His +gran’marm!” and Mrs. Noah bit off the last syllable spitefully. “Bless +you, man, Squire Guy, as you call him, is twenty-five years old.” + +As Grandpa Markham was rather blind, he failed to see the point, but +knew that in some way he had given offense. + +“I beg your pardon, ma’am; I was sure you was some kin—maybe an a’nt.” + +No, she was not even that; but willing enough to let the old man +believe her a lady of the Remington order, she did not explain that she +was simply the housekeeper, she simply said: + +“If it’s Mr. Guy you want, I can tell you he is not at home, which will +save your getting out.” + +“Not at home, and I’ve come so far to see him!” grandpa exclaimed, and +in his voice there was so much genuine disappointment that Mrs. Noah +rejoined, quite kindly: + +“He’s gone over to Devonshire with the young lady his stepmother. +Perhaps you might tell your business to me; I know all Mr. Guy’s +affairs.” + +“If I might come in, ma’am,” he answered, meekly, as through the open +door he caught glimpses of a cheerful fire. “It’s mighty chilly for +such as me.” He did look cold and blue, Mrs. Noah thought, and she bade +him come in, feeling a very little contempt for the old-fashioned +camlet cloak in which his feet became entangled, and smiling inwardly +at the shrunken, faded pantaloons, betokening poverty. + +“As you know all Squire Guy’s affairs,” grandpa said, when he was +seated before the fire, “maybe you could tell whether he would be +likely to lend a stranger three hundred dollars, and that stranger me?” + +Mrs. Noah stared at him aghast. Was he crazy, or did he mean to insult +her master? Evidently neither. He seemed as sane as herself, while no +one could associate an insult with him. He did not know anything. That +was the solution of his audacity, and pityingly, as she would have +addressed a half idiot, Mrs. Noah made him understand how impossible it +was for him to think her master would lend to a stranger like him. + +“You say he’s gone to Devonshire,” grandpa said, softly, with a quiver +on his lip when she had finished. “I wish I’d knew it; I left my +granddarter there to be examined. Mabby I’ll meet him going back, and +can ask him.” + +“I tell you it won’t be no use. Mr. Guy has no three hundred dollars to +throw away,” was Mrs. Noah’s rather sharp rejoinder. + +“Wall, wall, we won’t quarrel about it,” the old man replied, in his +most conciliatory manner, as he turned his head away to hide the +starting tear. + +Grandfather Markham’s heart was very sore, and Mrs. Noah’s harshness +troubled him. He could not bear to think that she really was cross with +him, besides that he wanted something to carry Maddy besides +disappointment, so by way of testing Mrs. Noah’s amiability and +pleasing Maddy, too, he said, as he arose: “I’m an old man, lady, old +enough to be your father.” Here Mrs. Noah’s face grew brighter, and she +listened attentively while he continued: “You won’t take what I say +amiss, I’m sure. I have a little girl at home, a grandchild, who has +heard big stories of the fine things at Aikenside. She has a hankerin’ +after such vanities, and it would please her mightily to have me tell +her what I saw up here, so maybe you wouldn’t mind lettin’ me go into +that big room where the silk fixin’s are. I’ll take off my shoes, if +you say so.” + +“Your shoes won’t hurt an atom; come right along,” Mrs. Noah replied, +now in the best of moods, for, except her cup of green tea with +raspberry jam and cream, she enjoyed nothing more than showing their +handsome house. + +Conducting him through the wide, marbled hall, she ushered him into the +drawing-room, where for a time he stood perfectly bewildered. It was +his first introduction to rosewood, velvet, and brocatelle, and it +seemed to him as if he had suddenly been transported to fairy-land. + +“Maddy would like this—it’s her nature,” he whispered, advancing a step +or two, and setting down his feet as softly as if stepping on eggs. + +Happening to lift his eyes before one of the long mirrors, he spied +himself, wondering much what that “queer-looking chap” was doing there +in the midst of so much elegance, and why Mrs. Noah did not turn him +out! Then mentally asking forgiveness for this flash of pride, and +determined to make amends, he bowed low to the figure in the glass, +which bowed as low in return, but did not reply to the very +good-natured remark: “How d’ye do—pretty well, to-day?” + +There was a familiar look about the round cape of the camlet cloak, and +Grandpa Markham’s face turned crimson as the truth burst upon him. + +“How ’shamed of me Maddy would be,” he thought, glancing sidewise at +Mrs. Noah, who had witnessed the blunder, and was now looking from the +window to hide her laughter. + +Grandpa believed she did not see him, and comforted with that +assurance, he began to remark upon the mirror, saying “it made it +appear as if there was two of you,” a remark which Mrs. Noah fully +appreciated. He saw the silk chairs, slyly touching one to see if it +did feel like the gored, peach-blossom dress worn by his wife forty-two +years ago that very spring. Then he tried one of them, examined the +rare ornaments, and came near bowing again to the portrait of the first +Mrs. Remington, so natural and lifelike it looked standing out from the +canvas. + +“This will last Maddy a week. I thank you, ma’am. You have added some +considerable to the happiness of a young girl, who wouldn’t disgrace +even such a room as this,” he said, as he passed into the hall. + +Mrs. Noah received his thanks graciously, and led him to the yard, +where Sorrel stood waiting for him. + +“Odd, but clever as the day is long,” was Mrs. Noah’s comment, as, +after seeing him safe out of her yard, she went back to her vegetable +oysters boiling on the stove. + +Driving at a brisk trot through the grounds, Sorrel was soon out upon +the highway; and with spirits exhilarated by thoughts of going home, he +kept up the trot until, turning a sudden corner, his master saw the +carriage from Aikenside approaching at a rapid rate. The driver, Paul, +saw him too, but scorning to give half the road to such as Sorrel and +the square-boxed wagons, he kept steadily on, while Grandpa Markham, +determined to speak with Guy, reined his horse a little nearer, raising +his hand in token that the negro should stop. As a natural consequence, +the wheels of the two vehicles became interlocked, and as the powerful +grays were more than a match for Sorrel, the front wheel of Grandpa +Markham’s wagon was wrenched off, and the old man precipitated to the +ground; which, fortunately for him, was in that locality covered with +sand banks, so that he was only stunned for an instant, and thus failed +to hear the insolent negro’s remark: “Served you right, old cove; might +of turned out for gentlemen;” neither did he see the sudden flashing of +Guy Remington’s eye, as, leaping from his carriage, he seized the +astonished African by the collar, and, hurling him from the box, +demanded what he meant by serving an old man so shameful a trick and +then insulting him. + +All apology and regret, the cringing driver tried to make some excuse, +but Guy stopped him short, telling him to see how much the wagon was +damaged, while he ran to the old man, who had recovered from the first +shock and was trying to extricate himself from the folds of his camlet +cloak. Nearby was a blacksmith’s shop, and thither Guy ordered his +driver to take the broken-down wagon with a view to getting it +repaired. + +“Tell him I want it done at once.” he said, authoritatively, as if he +well knew his name carried weight with it; then, turning to grandpa, he +asked again if he were hurt. + +“No, not specially—jolted my old bones some. You are very kind, sir,” +grandpa replied, brushing the dust from his pantaloons and then +involuntarily grasping Guy’s arm for support, as his weak knees began +to tremble from the effects of excitement and fright. + +“That darky shall rue this job,” Guy said, savagely, as he gazed +pityingly upon the shaky old creature beside him. “I’ll discharge him +to-morrow.” + +“No, young man. Don’t be rash. He’ll never do’t again; and sprigs like +him think they’ve a right to make fun of old codgers like me,” was +grandpa’s meek expostulation. + +“Do, pray, Guy, how long must we wait here?” Agnes asked, impatiently, +leaning back in the carriage and partially drawing her veil over her +face as she glanced at Grandpa Markham, but a look from Guy silenced +her; and turning again to grandpa, he asked: + +“What did you say? You have been to Aikenside to see me?” + +“Yes, and I was sorry to miss you. I—I—it makes me feel awkward to tell +you, but I wanted to borrow some money, and I didn’t know nobody as +likely to have it as you. That woman up to your house said she knowed +you wouldn’t let me have it, ’cause you hadn’t it to spare. Mebby you +haven’t,” and grandpa waited anxiously for Guy’s reply. + +Now, Mrs. Noah had a singular influence over her young master, who was +in the habit of consulting her with regard to his affairs, and nothing +could have been more unpropitious to the success of grandpa’s suit than +the knowing she disapproved. Beside this, Guy had only the previous +week lost a small amount loaned under similar circumstances. Standing +silent for a moment, while he buried and reburied his shining patent +leather boots in the hills of sand, he said at last: “Candidly, sir, I +don’t believe I can accommodate you. I am about to make repairs at +Aikenside, and have partially promised to loan money on good security +to a Mr. Silas Slocum, who, ‘if things work right,’ as he expressed it, +intends building a mill on some property which has come, or is coming, +into his hands.” + +“That’s mine—that’s mine, my homestead,” gasped grandpa, turning white +almost as his hair blowing in the April wind. “There’s a stream of +water on it, and he says if he forecloses and gets it he shall build a +mill, and tear our old house down.” + +Guy was in a dilemma. He had not asked how much Mr. Markham wanted, and +as the latter had not told him, he naturally concluded it a much larger +sum than it really was, and did not care just then to lend it. + +“I tell you what I’ll do,” he said, after a little. “I’ll drop Slocum a +note to-night saying I’ve changed my mind, and shall not let him have +the money. Perhaps, then, he won’t be so anxious to foreclose, and will +give you time to look among your friends.” + +Guy laid a little emphasis on that last word, and looking up quickly +grandpa was about to say: “I am not so much a stranger as you think. I +knew your father well;” but he checked himself with the thought: “No, +that will be too much like begging pay for a deed of mercy done years +ago.” So Guy never suspected that the old man before him had once laid +his sire under a debt of gratitude. The more he reflected the less +inclined he was to lend the money, and as grandpa was too timid to urge +his needs, the result was that when at last the wheel was replaced, and +Sorrel again trotting on toward Devonshire, he drew after him a sad, +heavy heart, and not once until the village was reached did he hear the +cheery chuckle with which his kind master was wont to encourage him. + +“Poor Maddy! I dread tellin’ her the most, she was so sure,” grandpa +whispered, as he stopped before the office door, where Maddy waited for +him. + +But Maddy’s disappointment was keener than his own, and so after the +sorrowful words, “and I failed, too,” he bent himself to comfort the +poor child, who, leaning her throbbing head against his shoulder, +sobbed bitterly, as in the soft spring twilight they drove back to the +low red cottage where grandma waited for them. + + + + +CHAPTER V. +THE RESULT. + + +It was Farmer Green’s new buggy and Farmer Green’s bay colt which, +three days later than this, stopped before Dr. Holbrook’s office. Not +the square-boxed wagon, with old Sorrel attached; the former was +standing quietly in the chip-yard behind the low red house, while the +latter with his nose over the barnyard fence, neighing occasionally, as +if he missed the little hands which had daily fed him the oatmeal he +liked so much, and which now lay hot and parched and helpless upon the +white counterpane Grandma Markham had spun and woven herself. Maddy +might have been just as sick as she was if the examination had never +occurred, but it was natural for those who loved her to impute it all +to the effects of excitement and cruel disappointment, so there was +something like indignation mingling with the sorrow gnawing at the +hearts of the old couple as they watched by their fever-stricken +darling. Farmer Green, too, shared the feeling, and numerous at first +were his mental animadversions against that “prig of a Holbrook.” But +when Maddy grew so bad as not to know him or his wife, he laid aside +his prejudices, and suggested to Grandpa Markham that Dr. Holbrook be +sent for. + +“He’s great on fevers,” he said, “and is good on curin’ sick folks,” +so, though he would have preferred some one else should have been +called, confidence in the young doctor’s skill won the day, and grandpa +consented. + +This, then, was the errand of Farmer Green, and with his usual +bluntness, he said to the recreant doctor, who chanced to be at home: + +“Wall, you nigh about killed our little Madge t’other day, when you +refused the stifficut, and now we want you to cure her.” + +The doctor looked up in surprise, but Farmer Green soon explained his +meaning, making out a most aggravated case, and representing Maddy as +wild with delirium. + +“Keeps talkin’ about the big books, the Latin and the Hebrew, and even +the Catechism, as if such like was ’lowed in our school. I s’pose you +didn’t know no better; but if Maddy dies, you’ll have it to answer for, +I reckon.” + +The doctor did not try to excuse himself, but hastily took down the +medicines he thought he might need, and stowed them carefully away. He +had expected to hear from that examination, but not in this way, and +rather nervously he made some inquiries, as to how long she had been +ill, and so forth. + +Maddy’s case lost nothing by Mr. Green’s account, and by the time the +doctor’s horse was ready, and he on his way to the cottage, he had +arrived at the conclusion that of all the villainous men outside the +walls of the State’s prison, he was the most villainous, and Guy +Remington next. + +What a cozy little chamber it was where Maddy lay, just such a room as +a girl like her might be supposed to occupy, and the bachelor doctor +felt like treading upon forbidden ground as he entered the room so rife +with girlish habits, from the fairy slippers hung on a peg, to the +fanciful little workbox made of cones and acorns. Maddy was asleep, and +sitting down beside her, he asked that the shawl which had been pinned +across the window might be removed so that he could see her, and thus +judge better of her condition. They took the shawl away, and the +sunlight came streaming in, disclosing to the doctor’s view the face +never before seen distinctly, or thought about, if seen. It was ghastly +pale, save where the hot blood seemed bursting through the cheeks, +while the beautiful brown hair was brushed back from the brow where the +veins were swollen and full. The lips were slightly apart, and the hot +breath came in quick, panting gasps, while occasionally a faint moan +escaped them, and once the doctor heard, or thought he heard, the sound +of his own name. One little dimpled hand lay upon the bedspread, but +the doctor did not touch it. Ordinarily he would have grasped it as +readily as if it had been a piece of marble, but the sight of Maddy, +lying there so sick, and the fearing he had helped to bring her where +she was, awoke to life a curious state of feeling with regard to her, +making him almost as nervous as on the day when she appeared before him +as candidate No. 1. + +“Feel her pulse, doctor; they are faster most than you can count,” +Grandma Markham whispered; and thus entreated, the doctor took the soft +hand in his own, its touch sending through his frame a thrill such as +the touch of no other hand had ever sent. + +Somehow the act reassured him. All fear of Maddy vanished, leaving +behind only an intense desire to help, if possible, the young girl +whose fingers seemed to cling around his own as he felt for and found +the rapid pulse. + +“If she could awaken,” he said, laying the hand softly down and placing +his other upon her forehead, where the great sweat drops lay. + +And, after a time, Maddy did awaken, but in the eyes fixed, for a +moment, so intently on him, there was no look of recognition, and the +doctor was half glad that it was so. He did not wish her to associate +him with her late disastrous disappointment; he would rather she should +think of him as some one come to cure her, for cure her he would, he +said to himself, as he gazed into her childish face and thought how sad +it was for such as she to die. When first he entered the cottage he had +been struck with the extreme plainness of the furniture, betokening +that wealth had not there an abiding place, but now he forgot +everything except the sick girl, who grew more and more restless, +talking of him and the Latin verb which meant “to love,” she said, and +which was not in the grammar. + +“Guy was a fool and I was a brute,” the doctor muttered, as he folded +up the bits of paper whose contents he hoped might do much toward +saving Maddy’s life. + +Then, promising to come again, he rode rapidly away, to visit other +patients, who, that afternoon, were in danger of being sadly neglected, +so constantly was their young physician’s mind dwelling upon the +little, low-walled chamber where Maddy Clyde was lying. As night closed +in she knew them all, and heard that Dr. Holbrook had been there +prescribing for her. Turning her face to the wall, she seemed to be +thinking; then, calling her grandmother to her, she whispered: “Did he +smooth my hair back and say, ‘poor child?’” + +Her grandmother hardly thought he did, though she was not in the room +all the time, she said. “He had stayed a long while and was greatly +interested.” + +Maddy had a vague remembrance of such an incident, and in her heart +forgave the doctor for his rejection, thinking only how handsome he had +looked, even while tormenting her with such unheard of questions, and +how kind he was to her now. The sight of her grandfather awakened a new +train of ideas, and bidding him to sit beside her, she asked if their +home must be sold. Maddy was not to be put off with an evasion, and so +grandpa told her honestly at last that Slocum would foreclose, but not +while she was sick; he had been seen that day by Mr. Green, and had +promised so much forbearance. + +This was the last rational conversation held with Maddy for many a +week, and when next morning the doctor came, there was a look of deep +anxiety upon his face as he watched the alarming symptoms of his +delirious patient, who talked incessantly, not of the examination now, +but of the mortgage and the foreclosure, begging the doctor to see that +the house was not sold, to tell them she was earning thirty-six dollars +by teaching school, that Beauty should be sold to save their dear old +home. All this was strange at first to the doctor, but the rather +voluble Mrs. Green, who had come to Grandma Markham’s relief, +enlightened him, dwelling with a kind of malicious pleasure upon the +fact that Maddy’s earnings, had she been permitted to get a +“stifficut,” were to be appropriated toward paying the debt. + +If the doctor had hated himself the previous day when he from the red +cottage gate, he hated himself doubly now as he went dashing down the +road, determined to resign his office of school inspector that very +day. And he did. + +Summoning around him those who had been most active in electing him, he +refused to officiate again, assuring them that if any more candidates +came he should either turn them from his door or give them a +certificate without asking a question. + +“Put anybody you like in my place,” he said; “anybody but Guy +Remington. Don’t for thunder’s sake take him.” + +There was no probability of this, as Guy lived in another town, and +could not have officiated had he wished. But the doctor was too much +excited to reason upon anything save Madeline Clyde’s case. That he +perfectly understood; and during the next few weeks his other patients +waited many times in vain for his coming, while he sat by Maddy’s side +watching every change, whether for the worse or better. Even Agnes +Remington was totally neglected; and so one day she sent Guy down to +Devonshire to say that as Jessie seemed more than usually delicate, she +wished the doctor to take her under his charge and visit her at least +once a week. The doctor was not at home, but Tom said he expected him +every moment. So seating himself in the armchair, Guy waited until he +came. + +“Well, Hal,” he began, jocosely, but the joking words he would have +uttered next died on his lips as he noticed the strange look of +excitement and anxiety on the doctor’s face. “What is it?” he asked. +“Are all your patients dead?” + +“Guy,” and the doctor came closely to him, whispering huskily, “you and +I are murderers in the first degree. Yes; and both deserve to be hung. +Do you remember that Madeline Clyde whom you insulted with your logic +and Latin verbs? She’d set her heart on that certificate. She wanted +the money, not for new gowns and fooleries mind, but to help her old +grandfather pay his debts. His place is mortgaged. I don’t understand +it; but he asked some old hunks to lend him the money, and the miserly +rascal, whoever he was, refused. I wish I had it. I’d give it to him +out and out. But that’s nothing to do with the girl—Maddy they call +her. The disappointment killed her, and she’s dying—is raving crazy—and +keeps talking of that confounded examination. I tell you, Guy, my +inward parts get terribly mixed up when I hear her talk, and my heart +thumps like a trip-hammer. That’s the reason I have not been up to +Aikenside. I wouldn’t leave Maddy so long as there was hope. I did not +tell them this morning. I couldn’t make that poor couple feel worse +than they are feeling; but when I looked at her, tossing from side to +side and picking at the bedclothes, I knew it would soon be over—that +when I saw her again the poor little arms would be still enough and the +bright eyes shut forever. Guy, I couldn’t see her die—I don’t like to +see anybody die, but her, Maddy, of all others—and so I came away. If +you stay long enough, you’ll hear the bell toll, I reckon. There is +none at Honedale Church, which they attend. They are Episcopalians, you +see, and so they’ll come up here, maybe. I hope I shall be deafer than +an adder.” + +Here the doctor stopped, wholly out of breath, while Guy for a moment +sat without speaking a single word. Jessie, in his hearing, had told +her mother what the sick girl in the doctor’s office had said about +being poor and wanting the money for grandpa, while Mrs. Noah had given +him a rather exaggerated account of Mr. Markham’s visit; but he had not +associated the two together until now, when he saw the whole, and +almost as much as the doctor himself regretted the part he had had in +Maddy’s illness and her grandfather’s distress. + +“Doc,” he said, laying his hand on the doctor’s arm, “I am that old +hunks, the miserly rascal who refused the money. I met the old man +going home that day, and he asked me for help. You say the place must +be sold. It never shall, never. I’ll see to that, and you must save the +girl.” + +“I can’t, Guy. I’ve done all I can, and now, if she lives, it will be +wholly owing to the prayers that old saint of a grandfather says for +her. I never thought much of these things until I heard him pray; not +that she should live anyway, but that if it were right Maddy might not +die. Guy, there’s something in such a prayer as that. It’s more +powerful than all my medicine swallowed at one grand gulp.” + +Guy didn’t know very much about praying then, and so he did not +respond, but he thought of Lucy Atherstone, whose life was one hymn of +prayer and praise, and he wished she could know of Maddy, and join her +petitions with those of the grandfather. Starting suddenly from his +chair, he exclaimed, “I’m going down there. It will look queerly, too, +to go alone. Ah, I have it! I’ll drive back to Aikenside for Jessie, +who has talked so much of the girl that her lady mother, forgetting +that she was once a teacher, is disgusted. Yes, I’ll take Jessie with +me, but you must order it; you must say it is good for her to ride, +and, Hal, give me some medicine for her, just to quiet Agnes, no matter +what, provided it’s not strychnine.” + +Contrary to Guy’s expectations, Agnes did not refuse to let Jessie go +for a ride, particularly as she had no suspicion where he intended +taking her, and the little girl was soon seated by her brother’s side, +chatting merrily of the different things they passed upon the road. But +when Guy told her where they were going, and why they were going there, +the tears came at once into her eyes, and hiding her face in Guy’s lap +she sobbed bitterly. + +“I did like her so much that day,” she said, “and she looked so sorry, +too. It’s terrible to die!” + +Then she plied Guy with questions concerning Maddy’s probable future. +“Would she go to heaven, sure?” and When Guy answered at random, “Yes,” +she asked, “How did he know? Had he heard that Maddy was that kind of +good which lets folks in heaven? Because, Brother Guy,” and the little +preacher nestled closely to the young man, fingering his coat buttons +as she talked, “because, Brother Guy, folks can be good—that is, not do +naughty things—and still God won’t love them unless they—I don’t know +what, I wish I did.” + +Guy drew her nearer to him, but to that childish yearning for knowledge +he could not respond, so he said: + +“Who taught you all this, little one?—not your mother, surely.” + +“No, not mamma, but Miriam, the waiting-maid we left in Boston. She +told me about it, and taught me to pray different from mamma. Do you +pray, Brother Guy?” + +The question startled the young man, who was glad his coachman spoke to +him just then, asking if he should drive through Devonshire village, or +go direct to Honedale by a shorter route. + +They would go to the village, Guy said, hoping that thus the doctor +might be persuaded to accompany them. This diverted Jessie’s mind, and +she said no more of praying; but the first tiny grain was sown, the +mustard seed, which should hereafter spring up into a mighty tree, the +indirect result of Maddy’s disappointment and almost fatal illness. +They found the doctor at home and willing to go with them. Indeed, so +impatient had he become listening for the first stroke of the bell +which was to herald the death he deemed so sure, that he was on the +point of mounting his horse and galloping off alone, when Guy’s +invitation came. It was five miles from Devonshire to Honedale, and +when they reached a hill which lay halfway between, they stopped for a +few moments to rest the tired horses. Suddenly, as they sat waiting, a +sharp, ringing sound fell on their ears, and grasping Guy’s knee, the +doctor said, “I told you so; Madeline Clyde is dead.” + +It was the village bell, and its twice three strokes betokened that it +tolled for somebody youthful, somebody young, like Maddy Clyde. Jessie +wept silently, but there were no tears in the eyes of the young men, as +with beating hearts they sat listening to the slow, solemn sounds which +came echoing up the hill. There was a pause; the sexton’s dirgelike +task was done, and now it only remained for him to strike the age, and +tell how many years the departed one had numbered. + +“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten;” Jessie +counted it aloud, while every stroke fell like a heavy blow upon the +hearts of the young men, who a few weeks ago, knew not that such as +Maddy Clyde had ever had existence. + +How long it seemed before another stroke, and Guy was beginning to hope +they’d heard the last, when again the dull, muffled sound came floating +on the air, and Dr. Holbrook’s black, bearded lip half quivered as he +now counted aloud, “one, two, three, four, five.” + +That was all; there it stopped; and vain were all their listenings to +catch another note. Fifteen years, and only fifteen had passed over the +form now forever still. + +“She was fifteen,” Guy whispered, remembering distinctly to have heard +that number from Maddy herself. + +“I thought they told me fourteen, but of course it’s she,” the doctor +rejoined. “Poor child, I would have given much to have saved her.” + +Jessie did not talk; only once, when she asked Guy, if it was very far +to heaven, and if he supposed Maddy had got there by this time. + +“We’ll go just the same,” said Guy. “I will do what I can for the old +man;” and so the carriage drove on, down the hill, across the +meadow-land, and past a low-roofed house whose walls inclosed the +stiffened form of him for whom the bell had tolled, the boy, fifteen +years of age, who had been the patient of another than Dr. Holbrook. + +Maddy was not dead, but the paroxysm of restlessness had passed, and +she lay now in a heavy sleep so nearly resembling death that they who +watched, waited expectantly to see the going out of her last breath. +Never before had a carriage like that from Aikenside stopped at that +humble cottage, but the neighbors thought it came merely to bring the +doctor, whom they welcomed with a glad smile, making a way for him to +pass to Maddy’s bedside. Guy preferred waiting in the carriage until +such time as Grandpa Markham could speak with him, but Jessie went with +the doctor into the sick room, startling even the grandmother, and +causing her to wonder who the richly-dressed child could be. + +“Dying, doctor,” said one of the women, affirmatively, not +interrogatively; but the doctor shook his head, and holding in one hand +his watch he counted the faint pulse beats as with his eye he measured +off the minute. + +“There are too many here,” he said. “She needs the air you are +breathing,” and in his singular, authoritative way, he cleared the +crowded room of the mistaken friends who were unwittingly breathing up +Maddy’s very life. + +All but the grandparents and Jessie; these he suffered to remain, and +sitting down by Maddy, watched till the long sleep was ended. Silently +and earnestly the aged couple prayed for their darling, asking that if +possible she might be spared, and God heard their prayers, lifting, at +last, the heavy fog from Maddy’s brain, and waking her to life and +partial consciousness. It was Jessie who first caught the expression of +the opening eyes, and darting forward, she exclaimed, “She’s waked up, +Dr. Holbrook. She will live.” + +Wonderingly Maddy looked at her, and then as a confused recollection of +where they had met before crossed her mind, she smiled faintly, and +said: + +“Where am I now? Have I never come home, and is this Dr. Holbrook’s +office?” + +“No, no; it’s home, your home, and you are getting well,” Jessie cried, +bending over the bewildered girl. “Dr. Holbrook has cured you, and Guy +is here, and I, and—” + +“Hush, you disturb her,” the doctor said, gently pulling Jessie away, +and himself asking Maddy how she felt. + +She did not recognize him. She only had a vague idea that he might be +some doctor, but not Dr. Holbrook, sure; not the one who had so puzzled +and tortured her on a day which seemed now so far behind. From the +white-haired man kneeling by the bedside there was a burst of +thanksgiving for the life restored, and then Grandpa Markham tottered +from the room, out into the open air, which had never fallen so +refreshingly on his tried frame as it fell now, when he first knew that +Maddy would live. He did not care for his homestead; that might go, and +he still be happy with Maddy left. But He who had marked that true +disciple’s every sigh, had another good in store, willing it so that +both should come together, even as the two disappointments had come +hand in hand. + +From the soft cushions of his carriage, where he sat reclining, Guy +Remington saw the old man as he came out, and alighting at once, he +accosted him pleasantly, and then walked with him to the garden, where, +on a rustic bench, built for Maddy beneath the cherry trees, Grandpa +Markham sat down to rest. From speaking of Madeline it was easy to go +back to the day when Guy had first met grandpa, whose application for +money he had refused. + +“I have thought better of it since,” he said, “and am sorry I did not +accede to your proposal. One object of my coming here to-day was to say +that my purse is at your disposal. You can have as much as you wish, +paying me whenever you like, and the house shall not be sold. Slocum, I +understand, holds the mortgage. I will see him to-morrow and stop the +whole proceeding.” + +Guy spoke rapidly, determined to make a clean breast of it, but grandpa +understood him, and bowing his white head upon his bosom, the big tears +dropped like rain upon the turf, while his lips quivered, first with +thanks to the Providence who had truly done all things well, and next +with thanks to his benefactor. + +“Blessings on your head, young man, for making me so happy. You are +worthy of your father, and he was the best of men.” + +“My father—did you know him?” Guy asked, in some surprise, and then the +story came out, how, years before, when a city hotel was on fire, and +one of its guests in imminent danger from the locality of his room, and +his own nervous fear which made him powerless to act, another guest +braved fearlessly the hissing flame, and scaling the tottering wall, +dragged out to life and liberty one who, until that hour, was to him an +utter stranger. + +Pushing back his snowy hair, Grandfather Markham showed upon his temple +a long, white scar, obtained the night when he periled his own life to +save that of another. There was a doubly warm pressure now of the old +man’s hand, as Guy replied, “I’ve heard that story from father himself, +but the name of his preserver had escaped me. Why didn’t you tell me +who you were?” + +“I thought ’twould look too much like demanding it as a right—too much +like begging, and I s’pose I felt too proud. Pride is my besetting +sin—the one I pray most against.” + +Guy looked keenly now at the man whose besetting sin was pride, and as +he marked the cheapness of his attire, his pantaloons faded and short, +his coat worn threadbare and shabby, his shoes both patched at the +toes, his cotton shirt minus a bosom, and then thought of the humble +cottage, with its few rocky acres, he wondered of what he could be +proud. + +Meantime, for Maddy, Dr. Holbrook had prescribed perfect quiet, bidding +them darken again the window from which the shade had been removed, and +ordering all save the grandmother to leave the room and let the patient +sleep, if possible. Even Jessie was not permitted to stay, though Maddy +clung to her as to a dear friend. In a few whispered words Jessie had +told her name, saying she came from Aikenside, and that her Brother Guy +was there, too, outdoors, in the carriage. “He heard how sick you were +at Devonshire, this morning, and drove right home for me to come to see +you. I told him of you that day in the office, and that’s why he +brought me, I guess. You’ll like Guy. I know all the girls do—he’s so +good.” + +Sick and weary as she was, and unable as yet to comprehend the entire +meaning of all she heard, Maddy was conscious of a thrill of pride in +knowing that Guy Remington, from Aikenside, was interested in her, and +had brought his sister to see her. Winding her feeble arms around +Jessie’s neck, she kissed the soft, warm cheek, and said, “You’ll come +again, I hope.” + +“Yes, every day, if mamma will let me. I don’t mind it a bit, if you +are poor.” + +“Tut, tut, little tattler!” and Dr. Holbrook, who, unseen by the +children, had all the while been standing near, took Jessie by the arm. +“What makes you think them poor?” + +In the closely-shaded room Maddy could see nothing distinctly, but she +heard Jessie’s reply: “Because the plastering comes down so low, and +Maddy’s pillows are so teenty, not much bigger than my dolly’s. But I +love her; don’t you doctor?” + +Through the darkness the doctor caught the sudden flash of Maddy’s +eyes, and something impelled him to lay his cool, broad hand on her +forehead, as he replied, “I love all my patients;” then, taking +Jessie’s arm, he led her out to where Guy was waiting for her. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. +CONVALESCENCE. + + +Had it not been for the presence of Dr. Holbrook, who, accepting Guy’s +invitation to tea, rode back with him to Aikenside, Mrs. Agnes would +have gone off into a passion when told that Jessie had been “exposed to +fever and mercy knows what.” + +“There’s no telling what one will catch among the very poor,” she said +to Dr. Holbrook, as she clasped and unclasped the heavy gold bracelets +flashing on her white, round arm. + +“I’ll be answerable for any disease Jessie caught at Mr. Markham’s,” +the doctor replied. + +“At Mr. Who’s? What did you call him?” Agnes asked, the bright color on +her cheek fading as the doctor replied: + +“Markham—an old man who lives in Honedale. You never knew him, of +course.” + +Involuntarily Agnes glanced at Guy, in whose eye there was, as she +fancied, a peculiar expression. Could it be he knew the secret she +guarded so carefully? Impossible, she said to herself; but still the +white fingers trembled as she handled the china and silver, and for +once she was glad when the doctor took his leave, and she was alone +with Jessie. + +“What was that girl’s name?” she asked, “the one you went to see?” + +“Maddy, mother—Madeline Clyde. She’s so pretty. I’m going to see her +again. May I?” + +Agnes did not reply directly, but continued to question the child with +regard to the cottage which Jessie thought so funny, slanting away +back, she said, so that the roof on one side almost touched the ground. +The window panes, too, were so very tiny, and the room where Maddy lay +sick was small and low. + +“Yes, yes, I know,” Agnes said at last, impatiently, weary of hearing +of the cottage whose humble exterior and interior she knew so much +better than Jessie herself. + +But this was not to be divulged; for surely the haughty Agnes +Remington, who, in Boston, aspired to lead in society into which, as +the wife of Dr. Remington, she had been admitted, and who, in +Aikenside, was looked upon with envy, could have nothing in common with +the red cottage or its inmates. So when Jessie asked again if she could +not visit Maddy on the morrow, she answered decidedly: “No, daughter, +no. I do not wish you to associate with such people,” and when Jessie +insisted on knowing why she must not associate with such people as +Maddy Clyde, the answer was: “Because you are a Remington,” and as if +this of itself were of an unanswerable objection, Agnes sent her child +from her, refusing to talk longer on a subject so disagreeable to her +and so suggestive of the past. It was all in vain that Jessie, and even +Guy himself, tried to revoke the decision. Jessie should not be +permitted to come in contact with that kind of people, she said, or +incur the risk of catching that dreadful fever. + +So day after day, while life and health were slowly throbbing through +her veins, Maddy waited and longed for the little girl whose one visit +to her sick room seemed so much like a dream. From her grandfather she +had heard the good news of Guy Remington’s generosity, and that, quite +as much as Dr. Holbrook’s medicines, helped to bring the color back to +the pallid cheek and the brightness to her eyes. + +She was asleep the first time the doctor came after the occasion of +Jessie’s visit, and as sleep, he said, would do her more good than +anything he might prescribe, he did not awaken her; but for a long +time, as it seemed to Grandma Markham, who stood very little in awe of +the Boston doctor, he watched her as she slept, now clasping the +blue-veined wrist as he felt for the pulse, and now wiping from her +forehead the drops of sweat, or pushing back her soft, damp hair. It +would be three days before he could see her again, for a sick father in +Cambridge needed his attention, and after numerous directions as to the +administering of sundry powders and pills, he left her, feeling that +the next three days would be long ones to him. Dr. Holbrook did not +stop to analyze the nature of his interest in Maddy Clyde—an interest +so different from any he had ever felt before for his patients; and +even if he had sought to solve the riddle, he would have said that the +knowing how he had wronged her was the sole cause of his thinking far +more of her and of her case than of the thirty other patients on his +list. Dr. Holbrook was a handsome man, a thorough scholar, and a most +skillful physician; but ladies who expected from him those little +polite attentions which the sex value so highly generally expected in +vain, for he was no ladies’ man, and his language and manners were +oftentimes abrupt, even when both were prompted by the utmost kindness +of heart. In his organization, too, there was not a quick perception of +what would be exactly appropriate, and so, when, at last, he was about +starting to visit Maddy again, he puzzled his brains until they fairly +ached with wondering what he could do to give her a pleasant surprise +and show that he was not as formidable a personage as her past +experience might lead her to think. + +“If I could only take her something,” he said, glancing ruefully around +his office. “Now, if she were Jessie, nuts and raisins might answer—but +she must not eat such trash as that,” and he set himself to think +again, just as Guy Remington rode up, bearing in his hand a most +exquisite bouquet, whose fragrance filled the medicine-odored office at +once, and whose beauty elicited an exclamation of delight even from the +matter-of-fact Dr. Holbrook. + +“I thought you might be going down to Honedale, as I knew you returned +last night, so I brought these flowers for your patient with my +compliments, or if you prefer I give them to you, and you can thus +present them as if coming from yourself.” + +“As if I would do that,” the doctor answered, taking the bouquet in his +hand the better to examine and admire it. “Did you arrange it, or your +gardener?” he asked, and when Guy replied that the merit of +arrangement, if merit there were, belonged to himself, he began to +deprecate his own awkwardness and want of tact. “Here I have been +cudgeling my head this half hour trying to think what I could take her +as a peace offering, and could think of nothing, while you—Well, you +and I are different entirely. You know just what is proper—just what to +say, and when to say it—while I am a perfect bore, and without doubt +shall make some ludicrous blunder in delivering the flowers. To-day +will be the first time really that we meet, as she was sleeping when I +was there last, while on all other occasions she has paid no attention +whatever to me.” + +For a moment Guy regarded his friend attentively, noticing now that +extra care had been bestowed upon his toilet, that the collar was fresh +from the laundry, and the new cravat tied in a most unexceptionable +manner, instead of being twisted into a hard knot, with the ends +looking as if they had been chewed. + +“Doc,” he said, when his survey was completed, “how old are +you—twenty-five or twenty-six?” + +“Twenty-five—just your age—why?” and the doctor looked with an +expression so wholly innocent of Guy’s real meaning that the latter, +instead of telling why, replied: + +“Oh! nothing; only I was wondering if you would do to be my father. +Agnes, I verily believe, is more than half in love with you; but, on +the whole, I would not like to be your son; so I guess you’d better +take some one younger—say Jessie. You are only eighteen years her +senior.” + +The doctor stared at him amazed, and when he had finished said with the +utmost candor: “What has that to do with Madeline? I thought we were +talking of her.” “Innocent as the newly-born babe,” was Guy’s mental +comment, as he congratulated himself on his larger and more varied +experience. + +And truly Dr. Holbrook was as simple-hearted as a child, never dreaming +of Guy’s meaning, or that any emotion save a perfectly proper one had a +lodgment in his breast as he drove down to Honedale, guarding carefully +Guy’s bouquet, and wishing he knew just what he ought to say when he +presented it. + +Maddy had gained rapidly the last three days. Good nursing and the +doctor’s medicines were working miracles, and on the morning when the +doctor, with Guy’s bouquet, was riding rapidly toward Honedale, she was +feeling so much better that in view of his coming she asked if she +could not be permitted to receive him sitting in the rocking-chair, +instead of lying there in bed, and when this plan was vetoed as utterly +impossible, she asked, anxiously: + +“And must I see him in this nightgown? Can’t I have on my pink gingham +wrapper?” + +Hitherto Maddy had been too sick to care at all about her personal +appearance, but it was different now. She did care, and thoughts of +meeting again the handsome, stylish-looking man who had asked her to +conjugate _amo_ and whom she fully believed to be Dr. Holbrook, made +her rather nervous. Dim remembrances she had of some one gliding in and +out, and when the pain and noise in her head was at its highest, a +hand, large, and, oh! so cool had been laid upon her temples, quieting +their throbbings and making the blood course less madly through the +swollen veins. They had told her how kind, how attentive he had been, +and to herself she had said: “He’s sorry about that certificate. He +wishes to show me that he did not mean to be unkind. Yes; I forgive +him: for I really was very stupid that afternoon.” + +And so, in a most forgiving frame of mind, Maddy submitted to the snowy +robe which grandma brought in place of the coveted gingham wrapper, and +which became her well, with its daintily-crimped ruffles about the neck +and wrists. Those wrists and hands! How white and small they had grown! +and Maddy sighed, as her grandmother buttoned together the wristbands, +to see how loose it was. + +“I have been very sick,” she said. “Are my cheeks as thin as my arms?” + +They were not, though they had lost some of their symmetrical +roundness. Still there was much of childish beauty in the young, eager +face, and the hair had lost comparatively none of its glossy +brightness. + +“That’s him,” grandma said, as the sound of a horse’s gallop was heard, +and in a moment the doctor reined up before the gate. + +From Mrs. Markham, who met him in the door, he learned how much better +she was; also how “she has been reckoning on this visit, making herself +all a-sweat about it.” + +Suddenly the doctor felt returning all his old dread of Maddy Clyde. +Why should she wrong herself into a sweat? What was there in that visit +different from any other? Nothing, he said to himself, nothing; and yet +he, too, had been more anxious about it than any he had ever paid. +Depositing his hat and gloves upon the table, he followed Mrs. Markham +up the stairs, vaguely conscious of wishing she would stay down, and +very conscious of feeling glad; when just at Maddy’s door and opposite +a little window, she espied the hens busily engaged in devouring the +yeast cakes, with which she had taken so much pains, and which she had +placed in the hot sun to dry. Finding that they paid no heed to her +loud “Shoo, shoos,” she started herself to drive them away, telling the +doctor to go right on and to help himself. + +The perspiration was standing under Maddy’s hair by this time, and when +the doctor stepped across the threshold, and she knew he really was +coming near her, it oozed out upon her forehead in big, round drops, +while her cheeks glowed with a feverish heat. Thinking he should get +along with it better if he treated her just as he would Jessie, the +doctor confronted her at once, and asked: + +“How is my little patient to-day?” + +A faint scream broke from Maddy’s lips, and she involuntarily raised +her hands to thrust the stranger away. This black-eyed, black-haired, +thick-set man was not Dr. Holbrook, for he was taller, and more slight, +while she had not been deceived in the dark brown eyes which, even +while they seemed to be mocking her, had worn a strange fascination for +the maiden of fourteen and a half. The doctor fancied her delirious +again, and this reassured him at once. Dropping the bouquet upon the +bed, he clasped one of her hands in his, and without the slightest idea +that she comprehended him, said, soothingly: + +“Poor child, are you afraid of me—the doctor, Dr. Holbrook?” Maddy did +not try to withdraw her hand, but raising her eyes, swimming in tears, +to his face, she stammered out: + +“What does it mean, and where is he—the one who—asked me—those dreadful +questions? I thought that was Dr. Holbrook.” + +Here was a dilemma—something for which the doctor was not prepared, and +with a feeling that he would not betray Guy, he said: + +“No; that was some one else—a friend of mine—but I was there in the +back office. Don’t you remember me? Please don’t grow excited. Compose +yourself, and I will explain all by and by. This is wrong. ’Twill never +do,” and talking thus rapidly he wiped away the sweat, about which +grandma had told him. + +Maddy was disappointed, and it took her some time to rally sufficiently +to convince the doctor that she was not flighty, as he termed it; but +composing herself at last, she answered all his questions, and then, as +he saw her eyes wandering toward the bouquet, he suddenly remembered +that it was not yet presented, and placing it in her hands, he said: + +“You like flowers, I know, and these are for you. I——” + +“Oh! thank you, thank you, doctor; I am so glad. I love them so much, +and you are so kind. What made you think to bring them? I’ve wanted +flowers so badly; but I could not have them, because I was sick and did +not work in the garden. It was so good in you,” and in her delight +Maddy’s tears dropped upon the fair blossoms. + +For a moment the doctor was sorely tempted to keep the credit thus +enthusiastically given; but he was too truthful for that, and so +watching her as her eyes glistened with pleased excitement, he said: + +“I am glad you like them, Miss Clyde, and so will Mr. Remington be. He +sent them to you from his conservatory.” + +“Not Mr. Remington from Aikenside—not Jessie’s brother?” and Maddy’s +eyes now fairly danced as they sought the doctor’s face. + +“Yes Jessie’s brother. He came here with her. He is interested in you, +and brought these down this morning.” + +“It was Jessie, I guess, who sent them,” Maddy suggested, but the +doctor persisted that it was Guy. + +“He wished me to present them with his compliments. He thought they +might please you.” + +“Oh! they do, they do!” Maddy replied. “They almost make me well. Tell +him how much I thank him, and like him too, though I never saw him.” + +The doctor opened his lips to tell her she had seen him, but changed +his mind ere the words were uttered. She might not think as well of +Guy, he thought, and there was no harm in keeping it back. + +So Maddy had no suspicion that the face she thought of so much belonged +to Guy Remington. She had never seen him, of course; but she hoped she +would some time, so as to thank him for his generosity to her +grandfather and his kindness to herself. Then, as she remembered the +message she had sent him, she began to think that it sounded too +familiar, and said to the doctor: + +“If you please, don’t tell Mr. Remington that I said I liked him—only +that I thank him. He would think it queer for a poor girl like me to +send such word to him. He is very rich, and handsome, and splendid, +isn’t he?” + +“Yes, Guy’s rich and handsome, and everybody likes him. We were in +college together.” + +“You were?” Maddy exclaimed. “Then you know him well, and Jessie, and +you’ve been to Aikenside often? There’s nothing in the world I want so +much as to go to Aikenside. They say it is so beautiful.” + +“Maybe I’ll carry you up there some day when you are strong enough to +ride,” the doctor answered, thinking of his light buggy at home, and +wondering he had not used it more, instead of always riding on +horseback. + +Dr. Holbrook looked much older than he was, and to Maddy he seemed +quite fatherly, so that the idea of riding with him, aside from the +honor it might be to her, struck her much as riding with Farmer Green +would have done. The doctor, too, imagined that his proposition was +prompted solely from disinterested motives, but he found himself +wondering how long it would be before Maddy would be able to ride a +little distance, just over the hill and back. He was tiring her all out +talking to her; but somehow it was very delightful there in that sick +room, with the summer sunshine stealing through the window and falling +upon the soft reddish-brown head resting on the pillows. Once he fixed +those pillows, arranging them so nicely that grandma, who had come in +from her hens and yeast cakes, declared “he was as handy as a woman,” +and after receiving a few general directions with regard to the future, +“guessed, if he wasn’t in a hurry, she’d leave him with Maddy a spell, +as there were a few chores she must do.” + +The doctor knew that at least a dozen individuals were waiting for him +that moment; but still he was in no hurry, he said, and so for half an +hour longer he sat there talking of Guy, and Jessie, and Aikenside, and +wondering he had never before observed how very becoming a white +wrapper was to sick girls like Maddy Clyde. Had he been asked the +question, he could not have told whether his other patients were +habited in buff, or brown, or tan color; but he knew all about Maddy’s +garb, and thought the dainty frill around her slender throat the +prettiest “puckered piece” that he had ever seen. How, then, was Dr. +Holbrook losing his heart to that little girl of fourteen and a half? +He did not think so. Indeed, he did not think anything about his heart, +though thoughts of Maddy Clyde were pretty constantly with him, as +after leaving her he paid his round of visits. + +The Aikenside carriage was standing at Mrs. Conner’s gate when he +returned, and Jessie came running out to meet him, followed by Guy, +while Agnes, in the most becoming riding habit, sat by the window +looking as unconcerned at his arrival as if it were not the very event +for which she had been impatiently waiting, Jessie was a great pet with +the doctor, and, lifting her lightly in his arms, he kissed her +forehead where the golden curls were clustering and said to her: + +“I have seen Maddy Clyde. She asked for you, and why you do not come to +see her, as you promised.” + +“Mother won’t let me,” Jessie answered. “She says they are not fit +associates for a Remington.” + +There was a sudden flash of contempt on the doctor’s face, and a gleam +of wrath in Agnes’ eyes as she motioned Jessie to be silent, and then +gracefully received the doctor, who by this time was in the room. As if +determined to monopolize the conversation, and keep it from turning on +the Markhams, Agnes rattled on for nearly fifteen minutes, scarcely +allowing Guy a chance for uttering a word. But Guy bided his time, and +seized the first favorable opportunity to inquire after Madeline. + +She was improving rapidly, the doctor said, adding: “You ought to have +seen her delight when I gave her your bouquet.” + +“Indeed,” and Agnes bridled haughtily; “I did not know that Guy was in +the habit of sending bouquets to such as this Clyde girl. I really must +report him to Miss Atherstone.” + +Guy’s seat was very near to Agnes, and while a cloud overspread his +fine features, he said to her in an aside: + +“Please say in your report that the worst thing about this Clyde girl +is that she aspires to be a teacher, and possibly a governess.” + +There was an emphasis on the last word which silenced Agnes and set her +to beating her French gaiter on the carpet; while Guy, turning back to +the doctor, replied to his remark: + +“She was pleased, then?” + +“Yes; she must be vastly fond of flowers, though I sometimes fancied +the fact of being noticed by you afforded almost as much satisfaction +as the bouquet itself. She evidently regards you as a superior being, +and Aikenside as a second Paradise, and asking innumerable questions +about you and Jessie, too.” + +“Did she honor me with an inquiry?” Agnes asked, her tone indicative of +sarcasm, though she was greatly interested as well as relieved by the +reply: + +“Yes; she said she heard that Jessie’s mother was a beautiful woman, +and asked if you were not born in England.” + +“She’s mixed me up with Lucy. Guy, you must go down and enlighten her,” +Agnes said, laughing merrily and appearing more at ease than she had +before since Maddy Clyde had been the subject of conversation. + +Guy did not go down to Honedale—but fruit and flowers, and once a +bottle of rare old wine, found their way to the old red cottage, always +brought by Guy’s man, Duncan, and always accompanied with Mr. +Remington’s compliments. Once, hidden among the rosebuds, was a +childish note from Jessie, some of it printed and some in the uneven +hand of a child just commencing to write. + +It was as follows: + +“DEAR MADDY: I think that is such a pretty name, and so does Guy, and +so does the doctor, too. I want to come see you, but mamma won’t let +me. I think of you ever so much, and so does Guy, I guess, for he sends +you lots of things. Guy is a nice brother, and is most as old as mamma. +Ain’t that funny? You know my first ma is dead. The doctor tells us +about you when he comes to Aikenside. I wish he’d come oftener, for I +love him a bushel—don’t you? Yours respectfully, + + +“JESSIE AGNES REMINGTON. + + +“P. S.—I am going to tuck this in just for fun, right among the buds, +where you must look for it.” + + +This note Maddy read and reread until she knew it by heart, +particularly the part relating to Guy. Hitherto she had not +particularly liked her name, greatly preferring that it should have +been Eliza Ann, or Sarah Jane; but the knowing that Guy Remington +fancied it made a vast difference, and did much toward reconciling her. +She did not even see the clause, “and the doctor, too.” His attentions +and concern she took as a matter of course, so quietly and so +constantly had they been given. The day was very long now which did not +bring him to the cottage; but she missed him much as she would have +missed her brother, if she had had one, though her pulse always +quickened and her cheeks glowed when she heard him at the gate. The +inner power did not lie deeper than a great friendliness for one who +had been instrumental in saving her life. They had talked over the +matter of her examination, the doctor blaming himself more than was +necessary for his ignorance as to what was required of a teacher; but +when she asked who was his proxy, he had again answered, evasively: “A +friend from Boston.” + +And this he did to shield Guy, whom he knew was enshrined in the little +maiden’s heart as a paragon of all excellence. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. +THE DRIVE. + + +Latterly the doctor had taken to driving in his buggy, and when Maddy +was strong enough he took her with him one day, himself adjusting the +shawl which grandma wrapped around her, and pulling a little farther on +the white sunbonnet which shaded the sweet, pale face, where the roses +were just beginning to bloom again. The doctor was very happy that +morning, and so, too, was Maddy, talking to him upon the theme of which +she never tired, Guy Remington, Jessie and Aikenside. Was it as +beautiful a place as she had heard it was, and didn’t he think it would +be delightful to live there? + +“I suppose Mr. Guy will be bringing a wife there some day when he finds +one,” and leaning back in the buggy Maddy heaved a little sigh, not at +thoughts of Guy Remington’s wife, but because she began to feel tired, +and thus gave vent to her weariness. + +The doctor, however, did not so construe it. He heard the sigh, and for +the first time when listening to her as she talked of Guy, a keen throb +of pain shot through his heart, a something as near akin to jealousy as +it was possible for him then to feel. But all unused as he was to the +workings of love he did not at that moment dream of such an emotion in +connection with Madeline Clyde. He only knew that something affected +him unpleasantly, prompting him, for some reason, to tell Maddy Clyde +about Lucy Atherstone, who, in all probability, would one day come to +Aikenside as its mistress. + +“Yes, Guy will undoubtedly marry,” he began, just as over the top of +the easy hill they were ascending horses’ heads were visible, and the +Aikenside carriage appeared in view. “There he is now,” he exclaimed, +adding quickly: “No, I am mistaken, there’s only a lady inside. It must +be Agnes.” + +It was Agnes driving out alone, for the sole purpose of passing a place +which had a singular attraction for her, the old, red cottage in +Honedale. She recognized the doctor, and guessed whom he had with him, +Putting up her glass, for which she had no more need than Jessie, she +scrutinized the little figure bundled up in shawls, while she smiled +her sweetest smile upon the doctor, showing to good advantage her white +teeth, and shaking back her wealth of curls with the air and manner of +a young coquettish girl. + +“Oh, what a handsome lady! Who is she?” Maddy asked, turning to look +after the carriage now swiftly descending the hill. + +“That was Jessie’s mother, Mrs. Agnes Remington,” the doctor replied. +“She’ll feel flattered with your compliment.” + +“I did not mean to flatter. I said what I thought. She is handsome, +beautiful, and so young, too. Was that a gold bracelet which flashed so +on her arm?” + +The doctor presumed it was, though he had not noticed. Gold bracelets +were not new to him as they were to Maddy, who continued: + +“I wonder if I’ll ever wear a bracelet like that?” + +“Would you like to?” the doctor asked, glancing at the small white +wrist, around which the dark calico sleeve was closely buttoned, and +thinking how much prettier and modest-looking it was than Agnes’ +half-bare arms, where the ornaments were flashing. + +“Y-e-s,” came hesitatingly from Maddy, who had a strong passion for +jewelry. “I guess I would, though grandpa classes all such things with +the pomps and vanities which I must renounce when I get to be good.” + +“And when will that be?” the doctor asked. + +Again Maddy sighed, as she replied: “I cannot tell. I thought so much +about it while I was sick, that is, when I could think; but now I’m +better, it goes away from me some. I know it is wrong, but I cannot +help it. I’ve seen only a bit of pomp and vanity, but I must say that I +like what I have seen, and I wish to see more. It’s very wicked, I +know,” she kept on, as she met the queer expression of the doctor’s +face; “and I know you think me so bad. You are good—a Christian, I +suppose?” + +There was a strange light in the doctor’s eye as he answered, half +sadly: “No, Maddy, I am not what you call a Christian, I have not +renounced the pomps and vanities yet.” + +“Oh, I’m so sorry,” and Maddy’s eyes expressed all the sorrow she +professed to feel. “You ought to be, now you’ve got so old.” + +The doctor colored crimson, and stopping his horse under the dim shadow +of a maple in a little hollow, he said: + +“I’m not so very old, Maddy; only twenty-five—only ten years older than +yourself; and Agnes’ husband was more than twenty years her senior.” + +The doctor did not know why he dragged that last in, when it had +nothing whatever to do with their conversation; but as the most trivial +thing often leads to great results, so far from the pang caused by +Maddy’s thinking him so old, was born the first real consciousness he +had ever had that the little girl beside him was very dear, and that +the ten years difference between them might prove a most impassable +gulf. With this feeling, it was exceedingly painful for him to hear +Maddy’s sudden exclamation: + +“Oh, oh! over twenty years—that’s dreadful. She must be most glad he’s +dead. I would not marry a man more than five years older than I am.” + +“Not if you loved him, and he loved you very, very dearly?” the doctor +asked, his voice low and tender in its tone. + +Wholly unsuspicious of the wild storm beating in his heart, Maddy +untied her white sunbonnet, and, taking it in her lap, smoothed back +her soft hair, saying, with a long breath: “Oh! I’m so hot,” and then, +as just thinking of his question, replied: “I shouldn’t love him—I +couldn’t. Grandma is five years younger than grandpa, mother was five +years younger than father, Mrs. Green is five years younger than Mr. +Green, and, oh! ever so many. You are warm, too; ain’t you?” and she +turned her innocent eyes full upon the doctor, who was wiping from his +lips the great drops of water, induced not so much by the heat as by +the apparent hopelessness of the love he now knew was growing in his +heart for Maddy Clyde. Recurring again to Agnes, Maddy said: “I wonder +why she married that old man? It is worse than if you were to marry +Jessie.” + +“Money and position were the attractions, I imagine,” the doctor said. +“Agnes was poor, and esteemed it a great honor to be made Mrs. +Remington.” + +“Poor, was she?” Maddy rejoined. “Then maybe Mr. Guy will some day +marry a poor girl. Do you think he will?” + +Again Lucy Atherstone trembled on the doctor’s lips, but he did not +speak of her—it was preposterous that Maddy should have any thoughts of +Guy Remington, who was quite as old as himself, besides being engaged, +and with this comforting assurance the doctor turned his horse in the +direction of the cottage, for Maddy was growing tired and needed to be +at home. + +“Perhaps you’ll some time change your mind about people so much older, +and if you do you’ll remember our talk this morning,” he said, as he +drove up at last before the gate. + +Oh, yes! Maddy would never forget that morning or the nice ride they’d +had. She had enjoyed it so much, and she thanked him many times for his +kindness, as she stood waiting for him to drive away, feeling no tremor +whatever when at parting he took and held her hand, smoothing it +gently, and telling her it was growing fat and plump again. He was a +very nice doctor, much better than she had imagined, she thought, as +she went slowly to the house and entered the neat kitchen, where her +grandmother sat shelling peas for dinner, and her grandfather in his +leathern chair was whispering over his weekly paper. + +“Did you meet a grand lady in a carriage?” grandma asked, as Maddy sat +down beside her. + +“Yes; and Dr. Holbrook said it was Mrs. Remington, from Aikenside, Mr. +Guy’s stepmother, and that she was more than twenty years younger than +her husband—isn’t it dreadful? I thought so; but the doctor didn’t seem +to,” and in a perfectly artless manner Maddy repeated much of the +conversation which had passed between the doctor and herself, appealing +to her grandma to know if she had not taken the right side of the +argument. + +“Yes, child, you did,” and grandma’s hands lingered among the light +green peas in her pan, as if she were thinking of an entirely foreign +subject. “I knows nothing about this Mrs. Remington, only that she +stared a good deal at the house as she went by, even looking at us +through a glass, and lifting her spotted veil after she got by. She may +have been as happy as a queen with her man, but as a general thing +these unequal matches don’t work, and had better not be thought on. +S’posin’ you should think you was in love with somebody, and in a few +years, when you got older, be sick of him. It might do him a sight of +harm. That’s what spoilt your poor Great-uncle Joseph, who’s been in +the hospital at Worcester goin’ on nine years.” + +“It was!” and Maddy’s face was all aglow with the interest she always +evinced whenever mention was made of the one great living sorrow of her +grandmother’s life—the shattered intellect and isolation from the world +of her youngest brother, who, as she said, had for nearly nine long +years been an inmate of a madhouse. + +“Tell me about it,” Maddy continued, bringing a pillow, and lying down +upon the faded lounge beneath the window. + +“There is no great to tell, only he was many years younger than I. He’s +only forty-one now, and was thirteen years older than the girl he +wanted. Joseph was smart and handsome, and a lawyer, and folks said a +sight too good for the girl, whose folks were just nothing, but she had +a pretty face, and her long curls bewitched him. She couldn’t have been +older than you when he first saw her, and she was only sixteen when +they got engaged. Joseph’s life was bound up in her; he worshiped the +very air she breathed, and when she mittened him, it almost took his +life. He was too old for her, she said, and then right on top of that +we heard after a little that she married some big bug, I never knew +who, plenty old enough to be her father. That settled it with Joseph; +he went into a kind of melancholy, grew worse and worse, till we put +him in the hospital, usin’ his little property to pay the bill until it +was all gone, and now he’s on charity, you know, exceptin’ what we do. +That’s what ’tis about your Uncle Joseph, and I warn all young girls of +thirteen or fourteen not to think too much of nobody. They are bound to +get sick of ’em, and it makes dreadful work.” + +Grandma had an object in telling this to Maddy, for she was not blind +to the nature of the doctor’s interest in her child, and though it +gratified her pride, she felt that it must not be, both for his sake +and Maddy’s, so she told the sad story of Uncle Joseph as a warning to +Maddy, who could scarcely be said to need it. Still it made an +impression on her, and all that afternoon she was thinking of the +unfortunate man, whom she had seen but once, and that in his prison +home, where she had been with her grandfather the only time she had +ever ridden in the cars. He had taken her in his arms then, she +remembered, and called her his little Sarah. That must have been the +name of his treacherous betrothed. She would ask if it were not so, and +she did. + +“Yes, Sarah Morris, that was her name, and her face was handsome as a +doll,” grandma replied, and wondering if she were as beautiful as +Jessie, or Jessie’s mother, Maddy went back to her reveries of the poor +maniac, whom Sarah Morris had wronged so cruelly. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. +SHADOWINGS OF WHAT WAS TO BE. + + +It was very pleasant at Aikenside that afternoon, and the cool breeze +blowing from the miniature fish pond in one corner of the grounds, came +stealing into the handsome parlors, where Agnes Remington, in tasteful +toilet, reclined languidly upon the crimson-hued sofa, bending her +graceful head to suit the height of Jessie, who was twining some +flowers among her curls, and occasionally appealing to Guy to know “if +it was not pretty.” + +In his favorite seat in the pleasant bay window, opening into the +garden, Guy was sitting, apparently reading a book, though his eyes did +not move very rapidly down the page, for his thoughts were on some +other object. When his pretty stepmother first came to Aikenside, three +months before, he had been half sorry, for he knew just how his quiet +would be disturbed, but as the weeks went by, and he became accustomed +to Jessie’s childish prattle and frolicsome ways, while even Agnes +herself was not a bad picture for his handsome home, he began to feel +how he should miss them when they were gone, Jessie particularly, who +made so much sunshine wherever she went, and who was very dear to the +heart of the half-brother. Full well he knew Agnes would rather stay +there, that her income did not warrant as luxurious a home as he could +give her, and that by remaining at Aikenside during the warmer season +she could afford to board through the winter in Boston, where her +personal attractions secured her quite as much attention as was good +for her. Had she been more agreeable to him he would not have hesitated +to offer her a home as long as she chose to remain, but, as it was, he +felt that Lucy Atherstone would be much happier alone with him. Lucy, +however, was not coming yet, and until she did come Agnes perhaps might +stay. It certainly would be better for Jessie, who could have a teacher +in the house, and it was upon these matters that he was reflecting. + +As if divining his thoughts Agnes said to him rather abruptly: + +“Guy, Ellen Laurie writes me that they are all going to Saratoga for a +time, and then to Newport, and she wished I would join them. Do you +think I can afford it?” + +“Oh, yes, that’s splendid, for I’ll stay here while you are gone, and I +like Aikenside so much better than Boston. Mamma can afford it, can’t +she, Guy?” Jessie exclaimed, dropping her flowers and springing upon +her brother’s knee. + +Smoothing her bright hair and pinching her soft cheek, Guy replied: + +“That means, I suppose, that I can afford it, don’t it? but, puss, I +was thinking just now about your staying here where you really do +improve.” + +Then turning to Agnes he made some inquiries as to the plans proposed +by the Laurie’s, ascertaining that Agnes’ plan was as follows: He +should invite her to go with him to Saratoga, or Newport, or both, and +that Jessie meantime should remain at Aikenside, just as she wished to +do. + +Guy could not find much pleasure in escorting Agnes to a fashionable +watering place, particularly as he was, of course, expected to pay the +bills, but he sometimes did unselfish things; and as he had not been +very gracious to her on the occasion of her last visit to Aikenside, he +decided to martyr himself and go to Saratoga. But who would care for +Jessie? She must not be left wholly with the servants. A governess of +some kind must be provided, and he was about speaking of this to Agnes, +when the doctor was announced, and the conversation turned into another +channel. Agnes Remington would not have confessed how much she was +interested in Dr. Holbrook. Indeed, only that morning in reply to a +joking remark made to her by Guy, she had petulantly exclaimed: + +“The idea of my caring for him, except as a friend and physician. Why, +he must be younger than I am, or at most about my age. A mere boy, as +it were.” + +And yet, in making her toilet that afternoon, she had arranged every +part of her dress with direct reference to the “mere boy,” her heart +beating faster every time she remembered the white sunbonnet and the +Scotch plaid shawl she had seen beside him in the drive that morning. +Little Maddy Clyde would hardly have credited the story had she been +told that the beautiful lady from Aikenside was positively jealous of +Dr. Holbrook’s attentions to herself; yet so it was, and the jealousy +was all the more bitter when she remembered who Madeline was, and how +startled that aged couple of the red cottage would be, could they know +who she was. But they did not; she was quite sure of that; and so she +had ventured to pass their door, her heart throbbing with a strange +sensation as the old waymarks came in view, waymarks which she +remembered so well, and around which so many sad memories were +clustering. Agnes was not all bad. Indeed, she was scarcely worse than +most vain, selfish fashionable women; and all that day, since her +return from riding, haunting, remorseful thoughts of the long ago had +been clinging to her, making her more anxious to leave that +neighborhood for a time at least, and in scenes of gayety forget, if +possible, that such things as broken vows or broken hearts existed. + +The arrival of the doctor dissipated her sadness in a measure, and +after greeting him with her usual expressions of welcome, she said, +half playfully, half spitefully: + +“By the way, doctor, who was that old lady, all bent up double in +shawls and things, whom you were taking out for an airing?” + +Guy looked up quickly, wondering where Agnes could have seen the +doctor, who, conscious of a sudden pang, answered, naturally: + +“That old lady, bent double and bundled in shawls, was young Maddy +Clyde, to whom I thought a short ride might do good.” + +“Oh, yes; that patient about whom Jessie has gone mad. I am glad to +have seen her.” + +There was unmistakable irony in her voice now, and turning from her to +Guy, the doctor continued: + +“The old man was telling me to-day of your kindness in saving his house +from being sold. It was like you, Guy; and I wish I, too, had the means +to be generous, for they are so very poor.” + +“I’ll tell you,” said Jessie, who had stolen to the doctor’s side, and +lain her fat, bare arm upon his shoulder, as if he had been Guy. “You +might give Maddy the doctor’s bill. I remember how mamma cried, and +said she never could pay papa’s bill when it was sent in.” + +“Jessie!” said Agnes and Guy, simultaneously, while the doctor +laughingly pulled one of her long, bright curls. + +“Yes, I could do that. I’d thought of it, but they might not accept it, +as they are proud as well as poor.” + +“Mr. Markham has no one to care for but his wife and this Madeline, has +he?” Agnes asked, and the doctor replied: + +“I did not suppose so until a few days since, when I learned from a Mr. +Green that Mrs. Markham’s youngest and now only brother has been an +inmate of a lunatic asylum for years; and that though they cannot pay +his entire expenses, of course they do all they can toward providing +him with comforts.” + +“What is a lunatic asylum, mother? What does he mean?” Jessie asked, +but it was the doctor, not Agnes, who explained to the child what a +lunatic asylum was. + +“Is insanity hereditary in this family?” Guy asked. + +Agnes’ cheek was very white, though her face was fumed away as the +doctor answered: “I do not know; I did not ask the cause. I only heard +the fact that such a man as Joseph Mortimer exists.” + +For a moment there was silence in the room, and then Guy told the +doctor of what himself and Agnes were speaking when he arrived. + +“I suppose it’s of no use asking you to join us for a week or so.” + +“There was not,” the doctor said. “His patients needed him and he must +stay at home.” + +“Doctor, how would this Maddy Clyde do to stay here with Jessie while +we are gone, partly as companion and partly as her teacher?” was Guy’s +next question, which brought Mrs. Agnes at once from her reverie. + +“Guy,” she exclaimed, “are you crazy? That child Jessie’s governess! +No, indeed! I shall have a teacher from Boston—one whose manners and +style are unexceptionable.” + +Guy had a will of his own, and few could provoke it into action as +effectually as Agnes, who, in thus opposing him, was working directly +against herself. Paying her no attention, except to bow in token that +he heard, Guy asked Jessie her opinion. + +“Oh, it will be splendid! Can she come to-morrow? I shan’t care how +long you are gone if I can have Maddy here, and doctor will come up +every day, will you, doctor?” and the soft eyes looked up pleadingly +into the doctor’s face. + +“It is not settled yet that Maddy comes,” the doctor replied, adding as +an answer to Guy’s question: “If Agnes could be willing, I do not think +you could do better than to secure Miss Clyde’s services. Two children +will thus be made happy, for Maddy, as I have told you, thinks +Aikenside must be a little lower only than Paradise. I shall be happy +to open negotiations, if you say so.” + +“I’ll ride down and let you know to-morrow,” Guy said. “These domestic +matters, where there is a difference of thinking, had better be +discussed alone,” and he turned good-humoredly toward Agnes, who knew +it was useless to oppose him then. + +But oppose him she did that night, after the doctor had gone, taking at +first the high stand that sooner than have a country girl like Maddy +Clyde associated daily with her daughter, whether as teacher or +companion, she would give up Saratoga and stay at home. Guy could not +explain why it was that opposition from Agnes always aroused all his +powers of antagonism. Yet so it was, and now he was as fully determined +that Maddy Clyde should come to Aikenside as Agnes was that she should +not. He knew, too, how to attain this end without further altercation. + +“Very well,” was his quiet reply, “you can remain at home if you +choose, of course. I had intended taking you myself, wherever you +wished to go; and not only that, but I was about to ask how much was +needed for the necessary additions to your wardrobe, but if you prefer +remaining here to giving up a most unfounded prejudice against a girl +who never harmed you, and whom Jessie already loves, you can do so,” +and Guy walked from the room, leaving Agnes first to cry, then to pout, +then to think it all over, and finally to decide that going to Saratoga +and Newport under the protection of Guy, was better than carrying out a +whim, which, after all, was nothing but a whim. + +Accordingly next morning as Guy was in his library reading his papers, +she went tripping up to him, and folding her white hands upon his +shoulder, said, very prettily: + +“I was real cross last night, and let my foolish pride get the +ascendency, but I have considered the matter, and am willing for this +Miss Clyde to come, provided you still think it best.” + +Guy’s mustache hid the mischievous smile lurking about his mouth, and +he received the concession as graciously as if he did not know +perfectly the motive which impelled it. As she had commenced being +amiable she seemed determined to continue it, and offered herself to +write a note soliciting Maddy’s services, + +“As I am Jessie’s mother, it will be perfectly proper for me to hire +and manage her,” she said, and as Guy acquiesced in this suggestion, +she sat down at the writing desk, and commenced a very pleasantly +worded note, in which Miss Clyde was informed that she had been +recommended as a suitable person with whom to leave Jessie during the +summer and a part of the autumn, and that she, Jessie’s mother, wrote +to ask if for the sum of one dollar per week she were at liberty to +come to Aikenside as governess, or waiting-maid. + +“Or what?” Guy asked, as she read to him what she had written. “Maddy +Clyde will not be waiting-maid in this house, neither will she come for +one dollar per week as you propose. I hire her myself. I have taken a +fancy to the girl. Commence again; substitute companion for +waiting-maid, and offering her three dollars per week instead of one.” + +As long as Guy paid the bill Agnes could not demur to the price, +although remembering a time when she had taught a district school for +one dollar per week and boarded around besides. She thought three +dollars far too much. But Guy had commanded, and him she generally +obeyed, so she wrote another note, which he approved, and sealing it up +sent it by a servant down to the red cottage. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. +THE DECISION. + + +The reception of Agnes’ note produced quite a commotion at the red +cottage, where various opinions were expressed as to the prime mover of +the plan, grandpa thinking that as Mrs. Agnes wrote the note, and was +most interested in it, she, of course, had suggested it, grandma +insisting that it was Jessie’s doings, while Maddy, when she said +anything, agreed with her grandmother, though away down in her heart +was a tiny spot warm with the half belief that Mr. Guy himself had +first thought of having her at Aikenside, where she would rather go +than to any other spot in the wide world; to Aikenside, with its shaven +lawn, almost large enough to be called a park, with its shaded paths +and winding walks, its costly flowers and running vines, its fountains +and statuary, its fish pond and grove, its airy rooms, its marbled +hall, its winding stairs, with banisters of rosewood, its cupola at the +top, from which so many miles of hill and meadow land could be +discerned, its bay windows and long piazzas, its sweet-faced, +golden-haired Jessie, and its manly, noble Guy. Only the image of +Agnes, flashing in silk and diamonds was a flaw on the picture’s fair +surface. From thoughts of her Maddy had insensibly shrank, until she +met her in the carriage, and then received the note asking her +services. These events wrought in her a change, and dread of Mrs. Agnes +passed away. She should like her, and she should be so happy at +Aikenside, for, of course, she was going, and she began to wish the +doctor would come so as to tell her how long before she would be strong +enough to perform the duties of teacher to little Jessie. + +At first Grandpa Markham hesitated. It might do Maddy a deal of hurt to +go to Aikenside, he said, her humble home would look mean to her after +all that finery, while the temptations to vanity and ambition would be +greater there than at home; but Maddy put all his objections aside, and +long before the doctor came she had written to Mrs. Agnes that she +would go. The doctor could not understand why it was that in Maddy’s +home he did not think as well of her going to Aikenside as he had done +the evening previous. She looked so bright, so pure, so artless, +sitting by her grandfather’s knee, that it seemed a pity to transplant +her to another soil, while, hidden in his heart where even he did not +know it was hidden, was a fear of what might be the effect of daily +intercourse with Guy. Still he said it was the best thing for her to +do, and laughingly remarked that it was far better than teaching the +district school, and then he asked if she would ride again that day; +but to this Mrs. Markham objected. It was too soon, she said, Maddy had +hardly recovered from yesterday’s fatigue, suggesting that as the +doctor was desirous of doing good to his convalescent patients, he +carry out poor old deaf Mary Barnes, who complained that he stayed so +long with the child at “granther Markham’s” as to have but a moment to +spare for her. + +Instantly the eyes of Mrs. Markham and the doctor met, the latter +feeling very uncomfortable, while the former was confirmed in the +suspicion raised by what Maddy told her the day before. + +It was the doctor who carried Maddy’s answer to Agnes, the doctor who +made all the succeeding arrangements, deciding that Maddy would not be +wholly strong until the very day fixed upon by Agnes for her departure +for Saratoga. For this Guy was sorry. It would have been an easy matter +for him to have ridden down to the cottage, and seen the girl in whom +he was beginning to feel so much interest that in his last letter to +Lucy he had mentioned her as about to become his sister’s governess; +but he did not care to see her there. It seemed to him that the +surroundings of that slanting-roofed house did not belong to her, and +he would rather meet her in his own more luxurious home. But the +doctor’s word was law, and so, on the first day of August he followed +Agnes and her three huge traveling trunks to the carriage, and was +driven from the house to which Maddy was coming that afternoon. + + + + +CHAPTER X. +AT AIKENSIDE. + + +It was a long, tiresome ride, for grandpa, from Honedale to Aikenside, +and as he was not in his wife’s secret, he accepted thankfully the +doctor’s offer to take Maddy there himself. With this arrangement Maddy +was well pleased, as it would thus afford her the opportunity she had +so much desired, of talking with the doctor about his bill, and asking +him to wait until she had earned enough to pay it. + +To the aged couple, parting for the first time with their darling, the +day was very sad, but they would not intrude their grief upon the young +girl looking so eagerly forward to the new life opening before her; +only grandpa’s voice faltered a little when, in the morning prayer, he +commended his child to God, asking that she might be kept from +temptation, and that the new sights and scenes to which she was going +might not beget in her a love of the world’s vanities, or a disgust for +her old home; but that she might come back to it the same loving, happy +child as she was then, and never be ashamed of the parents to whom she +was so dear. There was an answering sob from the chair where Maddy +knelt, and after the devotions were ended she wound her arm around her +grandfather’s neck, and parting his silvery locks, said to him, +earnestly; + +“Grandpa, do you think I could ever be ashamed of you and grandma?” + +“I hope not, darling; it would break our hearts; but finery and things +is mighty apt to set folks up, and after you’ve walked a spell on them +velvet carpets, you’ll no doubt think your feet make a big noise on our +bare kitchen floor.” + +“That may be, but I shan’t be ashamed of you. No, not if I were Mrs. +Guy Remington herself.” And Maddy emphasized her words with a kiss, as +she thought how nice it would be provided she were a widow, to be Mrs. +Guy Remington, and have her grandparents live at Aikenside with her. + +“But, pshaw! I’ll never be Mrs. anybody; and if I am, I’ll have to have +a husband, which would be such a bother!” was her next mental comment, +as, leaving her grandfather, she went to help her grandmother with the +breakfast dishes, wondering when she would wipe those blue cups again, +and how she should probably feel when she did. + +Quickly the morning passed, and just as the clock struck two the +doctor’s buggy appeared over the hill. Up to this moment Maddy had only +been happy in anticipation; but when, with her shawl and bonnet on, she +stood waiting while the doctor fastened her little trunk, and when she +saw a tear on the wrinkled faces of both her grandparents, her +fortitude gave way; and ’mid a storm of sobs, she said her good-bys and +received her grandfather’s blessing. + +It was very pleasant that afternoon, for the summer breeze was blowing +cool across the fields, where the laborers were busy; and with the +elasticity of youth, Maddy’s tears stopped their flowing, but not until +the dear old home had disappeared, and they were some distance on the +road to Aikenside. + +“I wonder how I shall like Mrs. Remington and Mr. Guy?” was the first +remark she made. + +“You’ll not see them immediately. They left this morning for Saratoga,” +the doctor replied. + +“Left! Mr. Guy gone!” Maddy repeated in a disappointed tone. + +“Are you very sorry?” the doctor asked, and Maddy replied: + +“I did want to see him once; you know I never have.” + +It would be such a surprise to find that Guy was no other than the +terrible inspector, that he would not undeceive her, the doctor +thought; and so he relapsed into a thoughtful mood, from which Maddy +aroused him by breaking the subject of the unpaid bill, asking if he’d +please not trouble grandpa, but wait until she could pay it. + +“Perhaps it’s wrong asking it when you were so good, but if you only +will take me for payment,” and Maddy’s soft brown eyes were lifted to +his face. + +“Yes, Maddy, I’ll take you for payment,” the doctor said, smiling, half +seriously, as his eyes rested fondly upon her. + +Even then stupid Maddy did not understand him, but began to calculate +out loud how long it would take to earn the money. She’d heard people +say that the doctor charged a dollar a visit to Honedale, and he’d been +so many, many times, that it would take a great many weeks to pay him; +besides, there was the debt to Mr. Guy. She wanted to help pay that, +but did not see how she could, unless he waited, too. Did the doctor +think he would? It seemed terrible to the doctor that one so young as +Maddy should be harassed with the payment of debts, and he felt a most +intense desire for the right to shield her from all such care, but he +must not speak of it then; he’d rather she should remain a little +longer an artless child, confiding all her troubles to him as if he had +been her brother. + +“There’s Aikenside,” he said, at last, and it was not long before they +passed through the gate, guarded by the great bronze lions, and struck +into the graveled road leading to the house. + +“It’s grander, finer, than I ever dreamed. Oh! if I could some time +have just such a home! and doctor, look! What does make that water go +up in the air so? Is it what they call a fountain?” + +In her excitement Maddy had risen, and with one hand resting on the +doctor’s shoulder, was looking around her eagerly. Guy Remington would +have laughed, and been gratified, too, could he have heard the +enthusiastic praises heaped upon his home by the little schoolgirl as +she drove up to his door. But Guy was away in the dusty cars, and only +Jessie stood on the piazza to receive her teacher. There were warm +words of welcome, kisses and hugs; and then Jessie led her friend to +the chamber she was to occupy. + +“Mother wanted you to sleep the other side of the house, but Brother +Guy said no, you should have a pleasant room; and when Guy says a +thing, it’s so. It’s nice in here, and close to me. See, I’m right +here,” and Jessie opened a door leading directly to her own sleeping +room. + +“Here’s one trunk,” she continued, as a servant brought up and set +down, a little contemptuously, the small hair-cloth box containing +Maddy’s wardrobe. “Here’s one; where’s the rest?” and she was flying +after Tom, when Maddy stopped her, saying: + +“I have but one—that’s all.” + +“Only that little, teenty thing? How funny. Why, mamma carried three +most as big as my bed to Saratoga. You can’t have many dresses. What +are you going to wear to dinner?” + +“I’ve been to dinner.” And Maddy looked up in some surprise. + +“You have! We never have it till five, when Guy is at home; but now +they are gone, Mrs. Noah says we will have it at one, as folks ought to +do. To-day I coaxed her to wait till you come, and the table is all set +out so nicely for two. Can you carve, and do you like green turtle +soup?” + +Maddy was bewildered, but managed to reply that she could not carve, +that she never saw any green turtle soup, and that she supposed she +should wear to dinner the delaine she had on. “Why, we always change, +even Mrs. Noah,” Jessie exclaimed, bending over the open trunk and +examining its contents. + +Two calicoes, a blue muslin, a gingham and another delaine, beside the +one she had on. That was the sum total of Maddy’s wardrobe, and Jessie +glanced at it a little ruefully as Maddy carefully shook out the nicely +folded dresses and laid them upon the bed. Here Mrs. Noah was heard +calling Jessie, who ran away leaving Maddy alone for a moment. + +Maddy had seen the look Jessie gave her dresses, and for the first time +there dawned upon her mind the possibility that her plain apparel, and +ignorance of the ways of Aikenside might be to her the cause of much +mortification. + +“And grandma said they were so nice, too—doing them up so carefully,” +she said, her lip beginning to quiver, and her eyes filling with tears, +as thoughts of home came rushing over her. + +She could not force them back, and laying her head upon the top of the +despised hair trunk, she sobbed aloud. Guy Remington’s private room was +in that hall, and as the doctor knew a book was to have been left there +for him, he took the liberty of getting it; passing Maddy’s door he +heard the low sound of weeping, and looking in, saw her where she sat +or rather knelt upon the floor. + +“Homesick so soon!” he said, advancing to her side, and then amid a +torrent of tears, the whole came out. + +Maddy never could do as they did there, and everybody would laugh at +her so for an awkward thing; she never knew that folks ate dinner at +five instead of twelve—she should surely starve to death—she couldn’t +carve—she could not eat mud-turtle soup, and she did not know which +dress to wear for dinner—would the doctor tell her? There they were, +and she pointed to the bed, only five, and she knew Jessie thought it +so mean. + +Such was the substance of Maddy’s passionate outpouring of her griefs +to the highly perplexed doctor, who, after quieting her somewhat, +ascertained that the greatest present trouble was the deciding what +dress was suitable to the occasion. The doctor had never made dress his +study, but as it happened he liked blue, and so suggested it, as the +one most likely to be becoming. + +“That!” and Maddy looked confounded. “Why, grandma never let me wear +that, except on Sunday; that’s my very best dress.” + +“Poor child; I’m not sure it was right for you to come here where the +life is so different from the quiet, unpretentious one you have led,” +the doctor thought, but he merely said: “It’s my impression they wear +their best dresses here, all the time.” + +“But what will I do when that’s worn out! Oh, dear, dear, I wish I had +not come!” and another impetuous fit of weeping ensued, in the midst of +which Jessie came back, greatly disturbed on Maddy’s account, and +asking eagerly what was the matter. + +Very adroitly the doctor managed to draw Jessie aside, while as well as +he was able he gave her a few hints with regard to her intercourse with +Maddy, and Jessie, who seemed intuitively to understand him, went back +to the weeping girl, soothing her much as a little mother would have +soothed her child. They would have such nice times, when Maddy got used +to their ways, which would not take long, and nobody would laugh at +her, she said, when Maddy expressed her fears on that point. “You are +too pretty even if you do make mistakes!” and then she went into +ecstasies over the blue muslin, which was becoming to Maddy, and +greatly enhanced her girlish beauty. The tear stains were all washed +away, Jessie using very freely her mother’s _eau-de-cologne_, and +making Maddy’s cheeks very red with rubbing, the nut-brown hair was +brushed until it shone like satin, a little narrow band of black velvet +ribbon was pinned about Maddy’s snowy neck, and then she was ready for +that terrible ordeal, her first dinner at Aikenside. The doctor was +going to stay, and this helped to relieve her somewhat. + +“You must come to the housekeeper’s room and see her first,” Jessie +said, and with a beating heart and brain bewildered by the elegancies +which met her at every turn, Maddy followed to where the dreaded Mrs. +Noah, in rustling back silk and a thread lace collar, sat sewing and +greatly enjoying the leisure she had in her master’s absence. + +Mrs. Noah knew who Maddy was, remembering the old man said that she +would not disgrace a drawing-room as fine as that at Aikenside. She had +discovered, too, that Mrs. Agnes was opposed to her coming, that only +Guy’s determined will had brought her there; and this, if nothing else, +had disposed her to feel kindly toward the little governess. She had +expected to see her rather pretty, but was not prepared to find her +what she was. Maddy’s was a singular type of beauty—a beauty +untarnished by any selfish, uncharitable, or suspicious feeling. Clear +and truthful as a mirror, her brown eyes looked into Mrs. Noah’s, while +her low courtesy—so full of deference, found its way straight to that +motherly heart. + +“I am glad to see you, Miss Clyde,” she said, “very glad.” + +Maddy’s lip quivered a little and her voice shook as she replied: + +“Please call me Maddy. They do at home, and I shan’t be quite so—so—” + +She could not say “homesick,” lest she should break out again into a +fit of crying, but Mrs. Noah understood her, and remembering her own +experience when first she went from home, she involuntarily stooped to +kiss the pure, white forehead of the girl, who henceforth was sure of +one friend at least at Aikenside. + +The dinner was a success, so far as Maddy was concerned. Not a single +mistake did she perpetrate, though her cheeks burned painfully as she +felt the eyes of the polite waiters fixed so often upon her, and +fancied they might be laughing at her. But they were not, and thanks to +the kind-hearted Guy, they thought of her only with respect, as one who +was their superior and must be treated accordingly. Knowing how +different everything was at Aikenside from that to which she had been +accustomed, Guy, with the thoughtfulness natural to him, had taken the +precaution of speaking to each of the servants concerning Miss Clyde, +Jessie’s teacher. As he could not be there himself when she first came +it would devolve upon them, more or less, to make it pleasant for her +by kind, civil attentions, he said, hinting at the dire displeasure +sure to fall on any one who should be guilty of a misdemeanor in that +direction. To Paul, the coachman, he had been particular in his +charges, telling him who Maddy was, and arguing that from the insolence +once given to the grandfather the offender was bound to be more polite +to the grandchild. The carriage was to be at hers and Jessie’s command, +Paul never refusing a reasonable request to drive the young ladies when +and where they wished to go, while a pretty little black pony, recently +broken to the saddle for Agnes, was to be at Miss Clyde’s service, if +she chose to have it. As Guy’s slightest wish was always obeyed, +Maddy’s chances for happiness were not small, notwithstanding that she +felt so desolate and lonely when the doctor left her, and standing by +Jessie she watched him with a swelling heart until he was lost to view +in the deepening twilight. + +Feeling that she must be homesick, Mrs. Noah suggested that she try the +fine piano in the little music-room. + +“Maybe you can’t play, but you can drum ‘Days of Absence,’ as most +girls do,” and opening the lid she bade Maddy “thump as long as she +liked.” + +Music was a delight to Maddy, who coveted nothing so much as a +knowledge of it, and sitting down upon the stool, she touched the +soft-toned instrument, ascertaining by her far several sweet chords, +and greatly astonishing Jessie, who wondered at her skill. Twice each +week a teacher came up from Devonshire to give lessons to Jessie, but +as yet she could only play one scale and a few simple bars. These she +attempted to teach to Maddy, who caught at them so quickly and executed +them so well that Jessie was delighted. Maddy ought to take lessons, +she said, and some time during the next day she took to Mrs. Noah a +letter which she had written to Guy. After going into ecstasies over +Maddy, saying she was the nicest kind of a girl, that she prayed in the +morning as well as at night, and looked so sweet in blue, she asked if +she couldn’t take music lessons, too, advancing many reasons why she +should, one of which was that she could play now a great deal better +than herself. + +It was several days before an answer came to this letter, and when it +did it brought Guy’s consent for Maddy to take lessons, together with a +note for Mr. Simons, requesting him to consider Miss Clyde his pupil, +on the same terms with Jessie. + +Though greatly pleased with Aikenside, and greatly attached to Jessie, +Maddy had had many hours of loneliness when her heart was back in the +humble cottage where she knew they were missing her so much, but now a +new world, a world of music, was suddenly opened before her, and the +homesickness all disappeared. It had been arranged with Mrs. Noah, by +Agnes, that Jessie should only study for two hours each day, +consequently Maddy had nearly all the time to herself, and well did she +improve it, making so rapid progress that Simons looked on amazed +declaring her case to be without a parallel, while Jessie was left far +behind. Indeed, after a short time Maddy might have been her teacher, +and was of much service to her in practicing her lessons. + +Meanwhile the doctor came often to Aikenside, praising Maddy’s progress +in music, and though he did not know a single note, compelling himself +to listen while with childlike satisfaction she played him her last +lesson. She was very happy now at Aikenside, where all were so kind to +her, and half wished that the family would always remain as it was +then, that Agnes and Guy would not come home, for with their coming she +felt there would be a change. It was nearly time now to expect them. +Indeed, Guy had written on one Saturday that they should probably be +home the next, and during the ensuing week Aikenside presented that +most uncomfortable phase of a house being cleaned. Everything must be +in order for Mr. Guy, Mrs. Noah said, taking more pains with his rooms +than with the remaining portion of the building. Guy was her idol; +nothing was too good for him, few things quite good enough, and she +said so much in his praise that Maddy began to shrink from meeting him. +What would he think of her? Perhaps he might not notice her in the +least, and that would be terrible. But, no, a man as kind as he had +shown himself to her, would at least pay her some attention, and so at +last she began to anticipate his coming home, wondering what their +first meeting would be, what she should say to him, and what he would +think of her. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. +GUY AT HOME. + + +Saturday came at last, a balmy September day, when all nature seemed +conspiring to welcome the travelers for whom so extensive preparations +were making at Aikenside. They were expected at about six in the +afternoon, and just before that hour the doctor rode up to be in +readiness to meet them. In the dining-room the table was set as Maddy +had never seen it set before, making, with its silver, its china, and +cut-glass, a glittering display. There was Guy’s seat as carver, with +Agnes at the urn, while Maddy felt sure that the two plates between +Agnes and Guy were intended for Jessie and herself, the doctor +occupying the other side. Jessie would sit next her mother, which would +leave her near to Guy, where he could see every movement she made. +Would he think her awkward, or would he, as she hoped, be so much +absorbed with the doctor as not to notice her? Suppose she should drop +her fork, or upset one of those queer-looking goblets, more like bowls +than anything else? It would be terrible, and Maddy’s cheeks tingled at +the very thought of such a catastrophe. Were they goblets really, those +funny colored things, and if they were not, what were they? Summoning +all her courage, she asked the doctor, her prime counselor, and learned +that they were the finger-glasses, of which she had read, but which she +had never seen before. + +“Oh, must I use them?” she asked, in so evident distress that the +doctor could not forbear a laugh as he told her it was not of the +slightest consequence whether she used them or not, advising her to +watch Mrs. Agnes, who was _au fait_ in all such matters. + +Six o’clock came, but no travelers. Then an hour went by, and there +came a telegram that the cars had broken down and would not probably +arrive until late in the night, if indeed they did till morning. +Greatly disappointed, the doctor, after dinner, took his leave, telling +the girls they had better not sit up. Consequently, at a late hour they +both retired, sleeping so soundly as not to near the noise outside the +house; the banging of doors, the setting down of trunks, the tramp of +feet, Mrs. Noah’s words of welcome, one pleasant voice which responded, +and another more impatient one which sounded as if its owner were tired +and cross. + +Agnes and Guy had come. As a whole, Agnes’ season at Saratoga had been +rather disagreeable. Guy, it is true had been exceedingly kind. She had +been flattered by brainless fops. She had heard herself called “that +beautiful Mrs. Remington,” and “that charming young widow,” but no +serious attentions had been paid, no millionaire had asked to be her +second husband. If there had, she would have said yes, for Agnes was +not averse to changing her state of widowhood. She liked the doctor, +but if he did not propose, and some other body did, she should accept +that other body, of course. This was her intention when she left +Aikenside, and when she came back, it was with the determination to +raise the siege at once, and compel the doctor to surrender. She knew +he was not wealthy as she could wish, but his family were the +Holbrooks, and as she positively liked him, she was prepared to waive +the matter of money. In this state of mind it is not surprising that +the morning of the return home she should listen with a troubled mind +to Jessie’s rather exaggerated account of the number of times the +doctor had been there, and the nice things he had said to her and +Maddy. + +“He had visited them ever so much, staying ever so long. I know Maddy +likes him; I do, anyway,” Jessie said, never dreaming of the passion +she was exciting, jealousy of Maddy, hatred of Maddy, and a desire to +be revenged on a girl whom Dr. Holbrook visited “ever so much.” + +What was she that he should care for her? A mere nothing—a child, whom +Guy had taken up. Pity there was a Lucy Atherstone in the way of his +making her mistress of Aikenside. It would be a pretty romance, Guy +Remington and Grandpa Markham’s grandchild. Agnes was nervous and +tired, and this helped to increase her anger toward the innocent girl. +She would take immediate measures, she thought, to put the upstart +down, and the sight of Flora laying the cloth for breakfast suggested +to her the first step in teaching Maddy her place. + +“Flora,” she said, “I notice you are arranging the table for four. Have +we company?” + +“Why, no, ma’am; there’s Mr. Guy, yourself, Miss Jessie, and Miss +Clyde,” was Flora’s reply, while Agnes continued haughtily: “Remove +Miss Clyde’s plate. No one allows their governess to eat with them.” + +“But, ma’am,” and Flora hesitated, “she’s very pretty, and ladylike, +and young; she has always eaten with Miss Jessie and Dr. Holbrook when +he was here. He treats her as if she was good as anybody.” + +In her eagerness to serve Maddy and save her from insult, Flora was +growing bold, but she only hurt the cause by mentioning the doctor. +Agnes was determined now, and she replied: + +“It was quite right when we were gone, but it is different now, and Mr. +Remington, I am sure, will not suffer it.” + +“Might I ask him?” Flora persisted, her hand still on the plate. + +“No,” Agnes would attend to that, and also see Miss Clyde. All Flora +had to do was to remove the plate, which she finally did, muttering to +herself: “Such airs! but I know Mr. Guy won’t stand it.” + +Meantime Maddy had put on her prettiest delaine, tied her little dainty +black silk apron, Mrs. Noah’s gift, and with the feeling that she was +looking unusually well, started for the parlor to meet her employer, +Mrs. Agnes. Jessie had gone in quest of her brother, and thus Agnes was +alone when Maddy Clyde first presented herself before her. She had not +expected to find Maddy so pretty, and for a moment the hot blood +crimsoned her cheek, while her heart throbbed wildly beneath the rich +morning dress. Dr. Holbrook had cause for being attracted by that +fresh, bright face, she thought, and so she steeled herself against the +better impulses of her nature, impulses which pleaded that for the sake +of the past she should be kind to Maddy Clyde. + +“Ah, good-morning. You are Jessie’s governess, I presume,” she said, +bowing distantly, and pretending not to notice the hand which Maddy +involuntarily extended toward her. “Jessie speaks well of you, and I am +very glad you suit her. You have had a pleasant time, I trust?” + +Her voice was so cold and her manner so distant that Maddy’s eyes for +an instant filled with tears, but she answered civilly that she had +been very happy, and everybody was very kind. It was harder work to put +down Maddy Clyde than Agnes had expected, and after a little further +conversation there ensued a silence, which neither was inclined to +break. At last, summoning all her courage, Agnes began: + +“Excuse me, Miss Clyde, but your own good sense, of which I am sure you +have an abundance, must tell you that now Mr. Remington and myself are +at home, your intercourse with our family must be rather limited—that +is—ahem—that is, neither Mr. Remington nor myself are accustomed to +having our governess very much with us. I suppose you have had the +range of the parlors, sitting there when you liked, and all this was +perfectly proper. Mind, I am finding no fault with you. It is all quite +right,” she continued, as she saw the strange look of terror and +surprise visible on Maddy’s face. “The past is right, but in future it +will be a little different, I am willing to accord to a governess all +the privileges possible. They are human as well as myself, but society +makes a difference. Don’t you know it does?” + +“Yes—no—I don’t know. Oh, pray tell me what I am to do!” Maddy gasped, +her face as white as ashes, and her eyes wearing as yet only a scared, +uncertain look. + +With little, graceful tosses of the head, which set in motion every one +of the brown curls, Mrs. Agnes replied: + +“You are not, of course, to go to Mr. Remington. It is my matter, and +does not concern him. What I wish is this: You are to come to the +parlor only when invited, and are not to intrude upon us at any time, +particularly when company is here, such as—well, such as Dr. Holbrook, +if you please. As you cannot be with Jessie all the while, you will, +when your labors as governess are over, sit in your own room, or the +schoolroom, or walk in the back yard, just as the higher servants +do—such as Mrs. Noah and the sewing girl, Sarah. Occasionally we shall +have you in to dine with us, but usually you will take your meals with +Mrs. Noah and Sarah. By following these directions you will, I think, +give entire satisfaction.” + +When Mrs. Agnes had finished this, Maddy began to understand her +position, and into her white face the hot blood poured indignantly. +Wholly inexperienced, she had never dreamed that a governess was not +worthy to sit at the same table with her employer, that she must never +enter the parlors unbidden, or intrude herself in any way. No wonder +that her cheeks burned at the degradation, or that, for an instant, she +felt like defying the proud woman to her face. But the angry words +trembling on her tongue were repressed as she remembered her +grandfather’s teachings; and with a bow as haughty as any Mrs. Agnes +could have made, and a look on her face which could not easily be +forgotten, she left the room, and in a kind of stunned bewilderment +sought the garden, where she could, unseen, give way to her feelings. + +Once alone, the torrent burst forth, and burying her face in the soft +grass, she wept bitterly, never hearing the step coming near, and not +at first heeding the voice which asked what was the matter. Guy +Remington, too, had come out into the garden, accidentally wandering +that way, and so stumbling upon the little figure crying in the grass. +He knew it was Maddy, and greatly surprised to find her thus, asked +what was the matter. Then, as she did not hear him, he laid his hand +gently upon her shoulder, compelling her to look up. In all her +imaginings of Guy, she had never associated him with the man who had so +puzzled and confused her, and now she did not for a time suspect the +truth. She only thought him a guest at Aikenside; some one come with +Guy, and her degradation seemed greater than before. She was not +surprised when he called her by name; of course he remembered her, just +as she did him; but she did wonder a little what Mrs. Agnes would say, +could she know how kindly he spoke to her, lifting her from the grass +and leading her to a rustic seat at no great distance from them. + +“Now, tell me why you are crying so?” he said, brushing from her silk +apron the spot of dirt which had settled upon it. “Are you homesick?” +he continued, and then Maddy burst out again. + +She forgot that he was a stranger, forgot everything except that he +sympathized with her. + +“Oh, sir,” she sobbed, “I was so happy here till they came home, Mrs. +Remington and Mr. Guy. I never thought it was a disgrace to be a +governess; never heard it was so considered, or that I was not good +enough to eat with them till she told me this. Oh, dear, dear!” and +choked with tears Maddy stopped a moment to take breath. + +She did not look up at the young man beside her, and it was well she +did not, for the dark expression of his face would have frightened her. +Half guessing the truth, and impatient to hear more, he said to her: + +“Go on,” so sternly, that she started, and replied: + +“I know you are angry with me and I ought not to have told you.” + +“I am not angry—not at you at least—go on,” was Guy’s reply, and Maddy +continued: + +“She told me that now they had come home it would be different, that +only when invited must I come to the parlor, or anywhere, but must stay +in the servants’ part, and eat with Mrs. Noah and Sarah. I’d just as +soon do that. I am no better than they, only, only—the way she told me +made me feel so mean, as if I was not anybody, when I am,” and here +Maddy’s pride began to rise. “I’m just as good as she, if grandpa is +poor, and I won’t stay here to be treated like a nigger by her and Mr. +Guy. I liked him so much too, because he was kind to grandpa and to me +when I was sick. Yes, I did like him so much.” + +“And how is it now?” Guy asked, wondering who in the world she thought +he was. “How is it now?” + +“I s’pose it’s wicked to feel such things on Sunday, but, somehow, what +she said keeps making me so bad that I know I hate her, and I guess I +hate Mr. Guy!” + +This was Maddy’s answer, spoken deliberately, while she looked up at +the young man, who, with a comical expression about his mouth, answered +back: + +“I am Mr. Guy.” “You, you! Oh, I can’t bear it! I will die!” and Maddy +sprang up as quickly as if feeling an electric shock. + +But Guy’s arm was interposed to stop her, and Guy’s arm held her back, +while he asked where she was going. + +“Anywhere, out of sight where you can never see me again,” Maddy sobbed +vehemently. “It is bad enough to have you think me a fool, as you must; +but now, oh what do you think of me?” + +“Nothing bad, I assure you,” Guy said, still holding her wrist to keep +her there. “I supposed you knew who I was, but as you did not, I +forgive you for hating me so cordially. If you thought I sanctioned +what Mrs. Remington has said to you, you had cause to dislike me, but +Miss Clyde, I do not, and this is the first intimation I have had that +you were to be treated other than as a lady. I am master of Aikenside, +not Mrs. Agnes, who shall be made to understand it.” + +“Oh, please don’t quarrel about me. Let me go home, and then all will +be well,” Maddy cried, feeling, at that moment, more averse to leaving +Aikenside than she could have thought it possible. + +“We shall not quarrel, but I shall have my way; meanwhile go to your +room and stay there until told that I have sent for you.” + +They went to the house together, but separated in the hall; Maddy +repairing to her room, while Guy sought Mrs. Agnes. The moment she saw +his face she knew a storm was coming, but was not prepared for the +biting sarcasm and bitter reproaches heaped upon her by one who, when +roused, was a perfect hurricane. + +Maybe she had forgotten what she was when his father married her, he +said, but he had not, and he remembered well the wonder expressed by +many that his father should stoop to marry a poor school teacher. “Yes, +that’s what you were, madam, much as you despise Maddy Clyde for being +a governess; you were one once yourself, and before that time mercy +knows what you were—a hired girl, perhaps—your present airs would seem +to warrant as much!” + +Guy was in a sad passion by this time, and failed to note the effect +his last words had on Agnes, who turned livid with rage and terror; but +smothering down her wrath, she said beseechingly: + +“Pray, Guy, do not be so angry; I know I am foolish about some things, +and proud people who ‘come up’ as you say always are, I guess; I know +that marrying your father made me what I am, but everybody does not +know it, and it is not necessary they should. I don’t remember exactly +what I did say to this Clyde girl, but I thought it would be pleasanter +for you, pleasanter for us all, not to have her always around; it seems +she has presided at the table when Dr. Holbrook was here to tea, and +even you can’t think that quite right.” + +“I don’t know why,” and at mention of Dr. Holbrook Guy’s temper burst +out again. “Agnes, you can’t deceive me; I know the secret of your +abominable treatment of Maddy Clyde is jealousy.” + +“Guy—jealous, I jealous of that child;” and Agnes’ voice was expressive +of the utmost consternation. + +“Yes, jealous of that child; you think that because the doctor has been +kind to her, perhaps he wants her some time for his wife. I hope he +does; I mean to help it on; I’ll tell him to have her, and if he don’t +I’ll almost marry her myself!” and Guy paced up and down the parlor, +chafing and foaming like a young lion. + +Agnes was conquered, and quite as much bewildered as Maddy had been; +she heard only in part how Maddy Clyde was henceforth to be treated. + +“Yes, yes,” she gasped at last, as Guy talked on, “stop now, for +mercy’s sake, and I’ll do anything, only not this morning, my head +aches so I cannot go to the breakfast table; I must be excused,” and +holding her temples, which were throbbing with pain, induced by strong +excitement, Agnes hurried to her own room and threw herself upon the +bed, angry, mortified and subdued. + +The breakfast bell had rung twice while Guy was holding that interview +with Agnes, and at last Mrs. Noah came up herself to learn the cause of +the delay; standing in the hall she heard a part of what was +transpiring in the parlor. Mrs. Noah was proud and jealous of her +master’s dignity, and once or twice the thought had crossed her mind +that perhaps when he came home Maddy would be treated more as some +governesses were treated by their employers, but to have Agnes take the +matter up was quite a different thing, and Mrs. Noah smiled with grim +satisfaction, as she heard Guy issuing orders as to how Miss Clyde +should be treated. Standing back to let Agnes pass, she waited a +moment, and then, as if she had just come up, presented herself before +Guy, asking if he were ready for breakfast. + +“Yes, call Miss Clyde; tell her I sent for her,” was Guy’s answer, and +forthwith Mrs. Noah repaired to Maddy’s room, finding her still sobbing +bitterly. + +“I cannot go down,” she said; “my face is all stains, and it’s so +dreadful, happening on Sunday, too. What would grandpa say?” + +“You can wash off the stains. Come,” Mrs. Noah said, pouring water into +the bowl, and bidding Maddy hurry, “as Mr. Guy was waiting breakfast +for her.” + +“But I am not to eat with them,” Maddy began, when Mrs. Noah stopped +her by explaining how Guy ruled that house, and Agnes had been +completely routed. + +This did not quiet Maddy particularly, and her heart beat painfully as +she descended to the parlor, where Guy was still walking up and down. + +“Come, Miss Clyde, Jessie is nearly famished,” he said pleasantly, as +Maddy appeared, and without the slightest reference to what had passed +he drew Maddy’s arm within his own, and giving a hand to Jessie, who +had just come in, he went to the breakfast room, where Maddy was told +to preside. + +Guy watched her closely without seeming to do so, mentally deciding +that she was neither vulgar nor awkward. On the contrary, he thought +her very pretty, and very graceful for one so unaccustomed to society. +Nothing was said of Agnes, who kept her room the entire day, and did +not join the family until evening, when Guy sat upon the piazza with +Jessie in his lap, while Maddy was not very far away. At first there +was much constraint between Agnes and Maddy, but with Guy to manage, it +soon wore away, and Agnes felt herself exceedingly amiable when she +reflected how gracious she had been to her rival. + +But Maddy could not so soon forget. All through the day the conviction +had been settling upon her that she could not stay at Aikenside, and so +on the following morning, just after breakfast was over, she summoned +courage to ask Mr. Guy if she might talk with film. Leading the way to +his library, he bade her sit down, while he took the chair opposite, +and then waited for her to commence. + +Maddy was afraid of Guy. He did not seem quite like Dr. Holbrook. He +was haughtier in his appearance, while his rather elaborate style of +dress and polished manners gave him, in her estimation, a kind of +superiority over all the men she had ever met. Besides that, she +remembered how his dark eyes had flashed when she told him what she did +the previous day, and also that she had said to his face that she hated +him. She could not bear to leave a bad impression on his mind, so the +first words she said to him were: + +“Mr. Remington, I can’t stay here after all that has happened. It would +not be pleasant for me or Mrs. Agnes, so I am going home, but I want +you to forget what I said about hating you yesterday. I did not then +know who you were. I don’t hate you. I like you, and I want you to like +me.” + +She did not look at him, for her eyelids were cast down, and her lashes +were wet with the tears she could scarcely keep from shedding. Guy had +never known much about girls of Maddy’s age, and there was something +extremely fascinating in the artless simplicity of this half child, +half woman, sitting there before him, and asking him so demurely to +like her. She was very pretty, he thought, and with proper culture +would make a beautiful woman. Then, as he remembered his avowed +intention of urging the doctor to make her his wife some day, the idea +flashed upon him that it would be very generous, very magnanimous in +him to educate that young girl expressly for the doctor, and though he +hardly seemed to wait at all ere replying to Maddy, he had in the brief +interval formed a skeleton plan, and saw it in all its bearings and +triumphal result. + +“I am much obliged for your liking me,” he said, a very little +mischievously. “You surely have not much reason so to do when you +recall the incidents of our first interview. Maddy—Miss Clyde—I have +come to the conclusion that I knew less than you did, and I beg your +pardon for annoying you so terribly.” + +Then briefly Guy explained to her how it all had happened, blaming +himself far more than he did the doctor, who, he said, had repented +bitterly. “Had you died, Miss Clyde, when you were so sick, I half +believe he would have felt it his duty to die also. He likes you very +much; more indeed than any patient I ever knew him to have,” and Guy’s +eyes glanced curiously at Maddy to witness the effect his words might +have upon her. But Maddy merely answered: + +“Yes, I think he does like me, and I know I like him.” + +Mentally chastising himself for trying to find in Maddy’s head an idea +which evidently never was there, he began to speak of her proposition +of leave, saying he should not suffer it, Jessie needed her and she +must stay. She was not to mind the disagreeable things Mrs. Remington +had said. She was tired and nervous, and so gave way to some very +preposterous notions, which she had picked up somewhere. She would +treat Maddy better hereafter, and she must stay. It was pleasanter for +Jessie to have a companion so near her own age. Then, as he saw signs +of yielding in Maddy’s face, he continued: + +“How would you like to turn scholar for a short time each day, I being +your teacher? Time often hangs heavily upon my hands, and I fancy the +novelty of the thing would suit me. I have books. I will appoint your +lessons and the hour for recitation.” + +Guy’s face was scarlet by the time he finished speaking, for suddenly +he remembered to have heard or read of a similar instance which +resulted in the marriage of the teacher and pupil; besides that it +would subject him to so much remark, when it was known that he, the +fashionable and fastidious Guy, was teaching a pretty, attractive girl +like Maddy Clyde, and he sincerely hoped she would decline. But Maddy +had no such intention. Always in earnest herself, she supposed every +one else meant what they said, and without ever suspecting the peculiar +position in which such a proceeding would place both herself and Guy, +her heart leaped up at the idea of knowing what was in the books she +had never dared hope she might study. With her beautiful eyes full of +tears, which shone like diamonds, as she lifted them to Guy’s face, she +said: + +“Oh, I thank you so much. You could not make me happier, and I’ll try +so hard to learn. They don’t teach such things at the district school; +and when there was a high school in Honedale I could not go, for it was +three dollars a quarter, and grandpa had no three dollars for me. Uncle +Joseph needed help, and so I stayed at home. It’s dreadful to be poor, +but, perhaps, I shall some time be competent to teach in a seminary, +and won’t that be grand? When may I begin?” + +Guy had never met with so much frankness and simplicity in any one, +unless it were in Lucy Atherstone, of whom Maddy reminded him somewhat, +except that the latter was more practical, more—he hardly knew +what—only there was a difference, and a thought crossed his mind that +if Maddy had had all Lucy’s advantages, and was as old, she would be +what the world calls smarter. There was no disparagement to Lucy in his +thoughts, only a compliment to Maddy, who was waiting for him to answer +her question. There was no retracting now; he had offered his services; +she had accepted; and with a mental comment: “I dread Doc’s fun the +most, so I’ll explain to him how I am educating her for the future Mrs. +Dr. Holbrook,” he replied: + +“As soon as I am rested from my journey, or sooner, if you like; and +now tell me, please, who is this Uncle Joseph of whom you speak?” + +He remembered what the doctor had said of a crazy uncle, but wishing to +hear Maddy’s version of it, put to her the question he did. + +“Uncle Joseph is grandma’s youngest brother,” Maddy answered, “and he +has been in the lunatic asylum for years. As long as his little +property lasted, his bills were paid, but now they keep him from +charity, only grandpa helps all he can, and buys some little nice +things which he wants so badly, and sometimes cries for, they say. I +picked berries all last summer, and sold to buy him a thin coat and +pants. We should have more to spend than we do, if it were not for +Uncle Joseph,” and Maddy’s face wore a thoughtful expression as she +recalled all the shifts and turns she’d seen made at home that the poor +maniac might be more comfortable. + +“What made him crazy?” Guy asked, and after a moment’s hesitancy Maddy +replied: “I don’t believe grandma would mind my telling you, though she +don’t talk about it much. I only knew it a little while ago. He was +disappointed once. He loved a girl very much, and she made him think +that she loved him. She was many years younger than Uncle Joseph—about +my age at first, and when she grew up she said she was sick of him, +because he was so much older. He wouldn’t have felt so badly, if she +had not gone straight off and married a rich man who was a great deal +older even than Uncle Joseph; that was the hardest part, and he grew +crazy at once. It has been so long that he never can be helped, and +sometimes grandma talks of bringing him home, as he is perfectly +harmless. I suppose it’s wicked, but I most hope she won’t, for it +would be terrible to live with a crazy man,” and a chill crept over +Maddy, as if there had fallen upon her a foreshadowing of what might +yet be. “Mr. Remington,” she continued suddenly, “if you teach me, I +can’t, of course, expect three dollars a week. It would not be right.” + +“Perfectly right,” he answered. “Your services to Jessie will be worth +just as much as ever, so give yourself no trouble on that score.” + +He was the best man that ever lived, Maddy thought, and so she told the +doctor that afternoon when, as he rode up to Aikenside, she met him out +on the lawn before he reached the house. + +It did strike the doctor a little comically that one of Guy’s habits +should offer to turn school teacher, but Maddy was so glad, that he was +glad too, and doubly glad that across the sea there was a Lucy +Atherstone. How he wished that she was there now as Mrs. Guy, and he +must tell Guy so that very day. Seated in Guy’s library, the +opportunity soon occurred, Guy approaching the subject himself by +saying: + +“Guess, Hal, what crazy project I have just embarked in.” + +“I know without guessing; Maddy told me,” and the doctor’s eyebrows +were elevated just a little as he crossed his feet upon the window sill +and moved his chair so as to have a better view of Maddy and Jessie +romping in the grass. + +“And so you don’t approve?” was Guy’s next remark, to which the doctor +replied: + +“Why, yes; it’s a grand thing for her, providing you know enough to +teach her; but, Guy, this is a confounded gossiping neighborhood, and +folks will talk, I’m afraid.” + +“Talk about what!” and Guy bridled up as his independent spirit began +to rise, “What harm is there in my doing a generous act to a poor girl +like Maddy Clyde? Isn’t she graceful as a kitten, though?” and Guy +nodded toward the spot where she was playing. + +It annoyed the doctor to have Guy praise Maddy, but he would not show +it, and answered calmly: + +“It’s all right in you, but just because the poor girl is Maddy Clyde, +folks will talk. She is too handsome, Guy, for Madam Grundy to let +alone. If Lucy were only here, it would be different. Why, in the name +of wonder, are you two not married, if you are ever going to be?” + +“Jealous, as I live!” and Guy’s hand came down playfully on the +doctor’s shoulder. “I did not suppose you had got as far as that. You +are afraid of the effect it may have on me teaching a sweet-faced +little girl how to conjugate amo; and to cover up your own interest, +you bring Lucy forward as an argument. Eh, Hal, have I not probed the +secret?” + +The doctor was in no mood for joking, and only smiled gloomily, while +Guy continued: + +“Honestly, doctor, I am doing it for you. I imagine you fancy her, as +well you may. She’ll make a splend’d woman, but she needs educating, of +course, and I am going to do it. You ought to thank me, instead of +looking so like a thundercloud,” and Guy laughed merrily. + +The doctor was ashamed of his mood, and could not tell what spirit +prompted him to answer: + +“I am obliged to you, Guy; but as far as I am concerned, you may spare +yourself the trouble. If my wife needs educating, I can do it myself.” + +Guy was puzzled. Could it be that, after all, he was deceived, and the +doctor did not care for Maddy? It might be, and he hastened to change +the conversation to another topic than Maddy Clyde. The doctor stayed +to dinner, and as Guy watched him closely, he made up his mind that he +did care for Maddy Clyde, and this confirmed him in his plan of +educating her for him. + +Magnanimous Guy! He felt himself very good, very generous, very +condescending, and very forgiving, the early portion of the afternoon; +but later in the day he began to view Guy Remington in the light of a +martyr, said martyrdom consisting in the scornful toss of the head with +which Agnes had listened to his plan, and the open opposition of Mrs. +Noah. + +“Was he beside himself, or what?” this worthy asked. “She liked Maddy +Clyde, to be sure, but it wasn’t for him to demean himself by turning +her school master. Folks would talk awfully, and she couldn’t blame +’em; besides, what would Lucy say to his bein’ alone in a room with a +girl as pretty as Maddy? It was a duty he owed her at any rate to tell +her all about it, and if she said ’twas right, why, go it.” + +This was the drift of Mrs. Noah’s remarks, and as Guy depended much on +her judgment, he decided to write to Lucy to see if she had the +slightest objections to his teaching Maddy Clyde. Accordingly he wrote +that very night, telling her frankly all he knew concerning Maddy +Clyde, and narrating the circumstances under which he first had met +her, being careful also to repeat what he knew would have weight with +an English girl like Lucy, to wit, that though poor, Maddy’s father and +grandfather Clyde had been gentlemen, the one a clergyman, the other a +sea captain. Then he told of her desire for learning, and his plan to +teach her himself, of what the doctor and Mrs. Noah said about it, and +his final determination to consult her. Then he described Maddy +herself, feeling a strange thrill as he told how pure, how innocent, +how artless and beautiful she was, and asked if Lucy feared aught from +his association with her. + +“If you do,” he wrote, “you have but to say so, and though I am +committed, I will extricate myself in some way rather than wound you in +the slightest degree.” + +It would be some time ere an answer to this letter could be received, +and until such time Guy could not honorably hear Maddy’s lessons as he +had agreed to do. But Maddy was not suspicious, and accepting his +trivial excuse, waited patiently, while he, too, waited for the letter, +wondering what it would contain. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. +A GENEROUS LETTER. + + +At last the answer came, and it was Maddy who brought it to Guy. She +had been home that day, and on her return had ridden by the office as +Guy had requested her to do. She saw the letter bore a foreign +postmark, also that it was in the delicate handwriting of some female, +but the sight did not affect her in the least. Maddy’s heart was far +too heavy that day to care for a trifle, and so placing the letter +carefully in her basket she kept on to Aikenside. + +The letter was decidedly Lucy-ish in all that pertained to her “dearest +darling,” her “precious Guy,” but when she came to Maddy Clyde, her +true, womanly nature spoke; and Guy, while reading it, felt how good +she was. Of course he might teach Maddy Clyde all he wished to teach +her, and it made Lucy love him better to know that he was willing to do +such things. She wished she was there to help him; they would open a +school for all the poor, but she did not know when mamma would let her +come. That pain in her side was not any better, and her cough had come +earlier this season than last. The physician had advised a winter in +Naples, and they were going before very long. It would be pleasant +there, no doubt, only she should be farther away from her boy Guy, but +she would think of him, oh, so often, teaching that dear little Maddy +Clyde, and she would pray for him, too, just as she always did. Then +followed a few more lines sacred to the lover’s eye, lines which told +how pure was the love which sweet Lucy Atherstone bore for Guy +Remington, who, as he read, felt his heart beat with a throb of pain, +for Lucy spoke to him now for the first time of what might possibly be. + +“I’ve dreamed about it nights,” she said. “I’ve thought about it days, +and tried so hard to be reconciled; to feel that if God will have it +so, I am willing to die before you have ever called me your little +wife, or I have ever called you husband. Heaven is better than earth, I +know, and I am sure of going there, I think, but oh, dear Guy, a life +with you looks so very sweet, that sometimes your little Lucy shrinks +from the dark grave, which would hide her forever from you. Guy, you +once said you never prayed, and it made me feel so badly, but you will, +when you get this, won’t you? You will ask God to make me well, and may +be He will hear you. Do, Guy, please do pray for your Lucy, far away +over the sea.” + +Guy could not resist that touching appeal, “to pray for his little +Lucy,” and though his lips were all unused to prayer, bowing his head +upon his hands he did ask that she might live, beseeching the Father to +send upon him any calamity save this one—Lucy must be spared. Guy felt +better for having prayed, it was something to tell Lucy, something that +would please her well, and though his heart yet was very sad, a part of +the load was lifted, and he could think of Lucy now without the bitter +pain her letter first had cost him. Was there nothing that would save +her, nobody who could cure her? Her disease was not hereditary; surely +it might be made to yield; had English physicians no skill, would not +an American do better? It was possible, and if that mother of Lucy’s +would let her come where doctors knew something, she might get well; +but she wouldn’t; she was determined that no husband should be burdened +with an ailing wife, and so if the mountain would not come to Mahomet, +why, Mahomet must go to the mountain, and Guy fairly leaped from his +chair as he exclaimed: “I have it—Doc!—he’s the most skillful man I +ever knew; I’ll send him to England; send him to the Atherstones; he +shall go to Naples with them as their family physician; he can cure +Lucy; I’ll speak to him the very next time he comes here;” and with +another burden lifted from his mind, Guy began to wonder where Maddy +was, and why that day had been so long. + +He knew she had returned, for Flora had said she brought the letter, +and he was about going out, in hopes of finding her and Jessie, when he +heard her in the hall, as she answered some question of Mrs. Noah’s; +stepping to the door, he asked her to come in, saying he would, if she +chose, appoint the lessons talked about so long. Ordinarily, Maddy’s +eyes would have flashed with delight, for she had anticipated so much +from these lessons; now, however, there was a sad look upon her face +and she could scarcely keep from crying as she came at Guy’s bidding, +and sat upon the sofa, near to his armchair. Somehow it rested Guy to +look at Maddy Clyde, who, having recovered from her illness, seemed the +very embodiment of perfect health, a health which glowed and sparkled +all over her bright face; showing itself as well in the luxuriance of +her glossy hair as in the brilliancy of her complexion, and the flash +of her lustrous eyes. How Guy wished that Lucy could share in what +seemed almost superfluity of health; and why shouldn’t she? Dr. +Holbrook had cured Maddy; Dr. Holbrook could cure Lucy; and so for the +present dismissing that from his mind, he turned to Maddy, and said the +time had come when he could give those promised lessons, asking if she +would commence to-morrow, after she was through with Jessie, and what +she would prefer to take up first? + +“Oh, Mr. Remington,” and Maddy began to cry: “I am afraid I cannot stay +they need me at home, or maybe Grandpa said so and I don’t want to go, +though I know it’s wicked not to; oh, dear, dear!” + +Here Maddy broke down entirely, sobbing so convulsively that Guy became +alarmed, and wondered what he ought to do to quiet her. As she sat the +bowed head was just within his reach, and so he very naturally laid his +hand upon it, and as if it had been Jessie’s smoothed the silken hair, +while he asked why she must go home. Had anything occurred to make her +presence more necessary than it was at Aikenside? and into the young +man’s heart there crept a feeling that Aikenside would be very lonely +without Maddy Clyde. + +Controlling her voice as well as she was able, Maddy told him how the +physicians at the asylum had written that as Uncle Joseph would in all +human probability never be perfectly sane, and as a change of scene +would do him good, Mr. Markham had better try taking him a while; that +having been spoken with upon the subject, he seemed as anxious as a +little child, even crying when the night came around and he was not at +home, as he expressed it. “They have kept him so long,” Maddy said, +“that grandpa thought it his duty to relieve them, though he can’t well +afford it, and so he’s coming next week, and grandma will need some one +to help, and I must go. I know it’s wrong, but I do not want to go, try +as I will.” + +It was a gloomy prospect to exchange Aikenside for the humble home +where poverty had its abode, and it was not very strange that Maddy +should shrink from it at first. She did not stop to ask what was her +duty, or think how much happiness her presence might give her +grandparents, or how much she might cheer and amuse the weak imbecile, +her uncle. She was but human, and so when Guy began to devise ways of +preventing her going, she listened, while the pain at her heart grew +less as her faith in Guy grew stronger. He would drive down with her +to-morrow, he said, and see what could be done. Meanwhile she must dry +her eyes and go to Jessie, who was calling her. + +As Guy had half expected, the doctor came around that evening, and +inviting him into his private room, Guy proceeded at once to unfold his +scheme, asking him first: + +“How much he probably received a year for his services as physician.” + +The doctor could not tell at once, but after a little thought made an +estimate, and then inquired why Guy had asked the question. + +“Because, Doc, I have a project on foot. Lucy Atherstone is dying with +what they call consumption. I don’t believe those old fogies understand +her disease, and if you will go over to England and undertake her cure, +I’ll give you just double what you’ll get by remaining here. They are +going to Naples for the winter, and, undoubtedly, will spend some time +in Paris. It will be just the thing for you. Lucy and her mother will +be glad of your services when they know I sent you, Lucy likes you now. +Will you go? You can trust Maddy to me. I’ll take good care that she is +worthy of you when you come back.” + +At the mention of Maddy’s name, the doctor’s brow darkened. He was sure +that Guy meant kindly, but it grated on his feelings to be thus joked +about what he knew was a stern reality. Guy’s project appeared to him +at first a most insane one, but as he continued to enlarge upon it, and +the advantage it would be to the doctor to travel in the old world, a +feeling of enthusiasm was kindled in his own breast; a desire to visit +Naples and France, and the places he had dreamed of as a boy, but never +hoped to see, Guy’s plan began to look more feasible, and possibly he +might have yielded but for one thought, and that a thought of Maddy +Clyde. He would not leave her alone with Guy, even though Guy was true +to Lucy as steel. He would stay; he would watch; and in time he would +win the young girl waiting now for him in the hall below, waiting to +tell him ’mid blushes of shame and tears of regret how she had meant to +pay him with her very first wages, but now, Uncle Joseph was coming +home, and he must wait a little longer. + +“Would he, could he be so good?” and unmindful of Guy’s presence Maddy +laid her hand confidingly upon his arm, while her soft eyes looked +beseechingly into his. + +How the doctor wished Guy was away, and kindly taking the hint, Guy +left them together in the lighted hall. Sitting down on the sofa, and +making Maddy sit beside him, the doctor began: + +“Maddy, you know I mean what I say, at least to you, and when I tell +you that I never think of that bill except when you speak of it, you +will believe me. I know your grandfather’s circumstances, and I know, +too, that I did much to induce your sickness, consequently if I made +one out at all, it would be a very small one.” + +He did not get any further, for Maddy hastily interrupted him, and +while her eyes flashed with pride, exclaimed: + +“I will not be a charity patient! I say I will not! I’d be a hired girl +before I’d do it!” + +It troubled the doctor to see Maddy so disturbed about dollars and +cents—to know that poverty was pressing its iron hand upon her young +heart; and only because she was so young did he refrain from offering +her then and there a resting place from the ills of life in his +sheltering love. But she was not prepared, and he should only defeat +his object by his rashness, so he restrained himself, though he did +pass his arm partly around her waist as he said to her: + +“I tell you, Maddy, honestly, that when I want that bill liquidated +I’ll ask you. I certainly will, and I’ll let you pay it, too. Does that +satisfy you?” + +Yes, Maddy was satisfied, and after a little the doctor continued: + +“By the way, Maddy, I have some idea of going to Europe for a few +months, or a year or more. You know it does a physician good to study +awhile in Paris. What do you think of it? Shall I go?” + +The doctor had become quite necessary to Maddy’s happiness. He it was +to whom she confided all her little troubles, and to lose him would be +a terrible loss, and so she answered that if it would be much better +for him she supposed he ought to go, though she should miss him sadly +and be so lonely without him. + +“Would you, Maddy? Are you in earnest? Would you be lonelier for my +being gone?” the doctor asked, eagerly. With her usual truthfulness, +Maddy replied: “Of course I should;” and, when, after the conference +was ended, the doctor stood for a moment talking with Guy, ere bidding +him good-night, he said: “I think I shall not accept your European +proposition. Somebody else must cure Lucy.” + +The next day, as Guy had proposed, he rode down to Honedale, taking +Maddy with him, and offering so many reasons why she should not be +called home, that the old people began to relent, particularly as they +saw how Maddy’s heart was set on the lessons Guy was going to give her. +She might never have a like opportunity, the young man said, and as a +good education would put her in the way of helping them when they were +older and needed her more, it was their duty to leave her with them. He +knew they objected to her receiving three dollars a week, but he should +pay it just the same, and if they chose they might, with a part of it, +hire a little girl to do the work which Maddy would do were she at +home. All this sounded very feasible, especially as it was backed up by +Maddy’s eyes, brimful of tears, and fixed pleadingly upon her +grandfather. The sight of them, more than Guy’s arguments, influenced +the old man, who decided that if grandma were willing Maddy should +stay, unless absolutely needed at the cottage. Then the tears burst +forth, and winding her arms around her grandfather’s neck, Maddy sobbed +out her thanks, asking if it were selfish and wicked and naughty in her +to prefer learning rather than staying there. + +“Not if that’s your only reason,” grandpa replied. “It’s right to want +learning, quite right; but, if my child is biased by the fine things at +Aikenside, and hates to come back to her poor home, because ’tis poor, +I should say it was very natural, but not exactly right.” + +Maddy was very happy after it was settled, and chatted gayly with her +grandmother, while Guy went out with her grandfather, who wished to +speak with him alone. + +“Young man,” he said, “you have taken a deep interest in me and mine +since I first came to know you, and I thank you for it all. I’ve +nothing to give in return except my prayers, and those you have every +day; you and that doctor. I pray for you two just as I do for Maddy. +Somehow you three come in together. You’re uncommon good to Maddy. +’Tain’t every one like you who would offer and insist on learning her. +I don’t know what you do it for. You seem honest. You can’t, of course, +ever dream of making her your wife, and, if I thought—yes, if I +supposed”—here grandpa’s voice trembled, and his face became a livid +hue with the horror of the idea—“if I supposed that in your heart there +was the shadow of an intention to deceive my child, to ruin my Maddy, +I’d throttle you here on the spot, old as I am, and bitterly as I +should repent the rashness.” + +Guy attempted to speak, but grandpa motioned him to be silent, while he +went on: + +“I do not suspect you, and that’s why I trust her with you. My old eyes +are dim, but I can see enough to know that Maddy is beautiful. Her +mother was so before her, and the Clydes were a handsome race. My Alice +was elevated, folks thought, by marrying Captain Clyde, but I don’t +think so. She was pure and good as the angels, and Maddy is much like +her, only she has the ambition of the Clydes: has their taste for +everything a little above her. She wouldn’t make nobody blush if she +was mistress of Aikenside.” + +Grandpa felt relieved when he had said all this to Guy, who listened +politely, smiling at the idea of his deceiving Maddy, and fully +concurring with grandpa in all he said of her rare beauty and natural +gracefulness. On their return to the house grandpa showed Guy the +bedroom intended for Uncle Joseph, and Guy, as he glanced at the +furniture, though within himself how he would send down from Aikenside +some of the unused articles piled away on the garret when he +refurnished his house. He was becoming greatly interested in the +Markhams, caring nothing for the remarks his interest might excite +among the neighbors, some of whom watched Maddy half curiously as in +the stylish carriage, beside its stylish owner, she rode back to +Aikenside in the quiet, autumnal afternoon. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. +UNCLE JOSEPH. + + +In course of time Uncle Joseph came as was arranged, and on the day +following Maddy and Guy rode down to see him, finding him a tall, +powerfully built man, retaining many vestiges of manly beauty, and +fully warranting all Mrs. Markham had said in his praise. He seemed +perfectly gentle and harmless, though when Guy was announced as Mr. +Remington, Maddy noticed that in his keen black eyes there was for an +instant a fiery gleam, but it quickly passed away, as he muttered: + +“Much too young; he was older than I, and I am over forty. It’s all +right.” + +And the fiery eye grew soft and almost sleepy in its expression, as the +poor lunatic turned next to Maddy, telling her how pretty she was, +asking if she were engaged, and bidding her be careful that her +_fiancé_ was not more than a dozen years older than herself. + +Uncle Joseph seemed to take to her from the very first, following her +from room to room, touching her fair, soft cheeks, smoothing her silken +hair, telling her Sarah’s used to curl, asking if she knew where Sarah +was, and finally crying for her as a child cries for its mother, when +at last she went away. Much of this Maddy had repeated to Jessie, as in +the twilight they sat together in the parlor at Aikenside; and Jessie +was not the only listener, for, with her face resting on her hand, and +her head bent eagerly forward, Agnes sat, so as not to lose a word of +what Maddy was saying of Uncle Joseph. The intelligence that he was +coming to the red cottage had been followed with a series of headaches, +so severe and protracted that Dr. Holbrook had pronounced her really +sick, and had been unusually attentive. Anxiously she had waited for +the result of Maddy’s visit to the poor lunatic, and her face was +colorless as marble as she heard him described, while a faint sigh +escaped her when Maddy told what he had said of Sarah. + +Agnes was changed somewhat of late. She had grown more thoughtful and +quiet, while her manner toward Maddy was not as haughty as formerly. +Guy thought her improved, and thus was not so delighted as he would +otherwise have been, when, one day, about two weeks after Uncle +Joseph’s arrival at Honedale, she startled him by saying she thought it +nearly time for her to return to Boston, if she meant to spend the +winter there, and asked what she should do with Jessie. + +Guy was not quite willing for Agnes to leave him there alone, but when +he saw that she was determined, he consented to her going, with the +understanding that Jessie was to remain—a plan which Agnes did not +oppose, as a child so large as Jessie might stand in the way of her +being as gay as she meant to be in Boston. Jessie, too, when consulted, +said she would far rather stay at Aikenside; and so one November +morning, Agnes, wrapped in velvet and furs, kissed her little daughter, +and bidding good-by to Maddy and the servants, left a neighborhood +which, since Uncle Joseph was so near, had become so intolerable that +not even the hope of winning the doctor could avail to keep her in it. + +Guy accompanied her to the city, wondering why, when he used to like it +so much, it now seemed dull and tiresome, or why the society he had +formerly enjoyed failed to bring back the olden pleasure he had +experienced when a resident of Boston. Guy was very popular there, and +much esteemed by his friends of both sexes, and great were the efforts +made to entertain and keep him as long as possible. But Guy could not +be prevailed upon to stay there long, and after seeing Agnes settled in +one of the most fashionable boarding houses, he started for Aikenside. + +It was dark when he reached home, and as the evening had closed in with +a heavy rain, the house presented rather a cheerless appearance, +particularly as, in consequence of Mrs. Noah’s not expecting him that +day, no fires had been kindled in the parlors, or in any room except +the library. There a bright coal fire was blazing in the grate, and +thither Guy repaired, finding, as he had expected, Jessie and her +teacher. Not liking to intrude on Mr. Guy, of whom she still stood +somewhat in awe, Maddy soon arose to leave, but Guy bade her stay; he +should be lonely without her, he said, and so bringing her work she sat +down to sew, while Jessie looked over a book of prints, and Guy upon +the lounge studied the face which, it seemed to him, grew each day more +and more beautiful. Then he talked with her of books, and the lessons +which were to be resumed on the morrow, watching Maddy as her bright +face sparkled and glowed with excitement. Then he questioned her of her +father’s family, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction in knowing +that the Clydes were not a race of whose blood any one need be ashamed; +and Maddy was more like them he was sure than like the Markhams, and +Guy shivered a little as he recalled the peculiar dialect of Mr. and +Mrs. Markham, and remembered that they were Maddy’s grandparents. Not +that it was anything to him. Oh, no, only as an inmate of his family he +felt interested in her, more so perhaps than young men were apt to be +interested in their sister’s governess. + +Had Guy then been asked the question, he would, in all probability, +have acknowledged that in his heart there was a feeling of superiority +to Maddy Clyde; that she was not quite the equal of Aikenside’s heir, +nor yet of Lucy Atherstone. It was natural; he had been educated to +feel the difference, but any haughty arrogance of which he might have +been guilty was kept down by his extreme good sense and generous, +impulsive nature. He liked Maddy; he liked to look at her as, in the +becoming crimson merino which he really and Jessie nominally had given +her, she sat before him, with the firelight falling on her beautiful +hair, and making shadows on her sunny face. + +Guy was luxurious in his tastes, and it seemed to him that Maddy was +just the picture to set off that room, or in fact all the rooms at +Aikenside. She would disgrace none of them, and he found himself +wishing that Providence had made her something to him—sister or cousin, +or anything that would make her one of the Remington line. + +And now, my reader, do not fall to abusing Guy, or accuse him of +forgetting Lucy Atherstone, for he did not. He thought of her many +times that evening, and in his dreams that night Lucy and Maddy shared +pretty equally, but the latter was associated with the lessons of the +morrow, while Lucy was the bright daystar for which he lived and hoped. + +It did not take long for the people of Sommerville to hear that Guy +Remington had actually turned schoolmaster, having in his library for +two hours or more each day Jessie’s little girl-governess, about whose +brilliant beauty there was so much said—people wondering, as people +will, where it would end, and if it could be possible that the haughty +Guy had forgotten his English Lucy and gone to educating a wife. + +The doctor, to whom these remarks were sometimes made, silently gnashed +his teeth, then said savagely that “if Guy chose to teach Maddy Clyde, +he did not see whose business it was,” and then rode over to Aikenside +to see the teacher and pupil, half hoping that Guy would soom tire of +his project and give it up. But Guy grew more and more pleased with his +employment, until, at last, from giving Maddy two hours of his time, he +came to give her four, esteeming them the pleasantest of the whole +twenty-four. Guy was proud of Maddy’s improvement, praising her often +to the doctor, who also marveled at the rapid development of her mind +and the progress she made, grasping a knotty point almost before it was +explained, and retaining with wonderful tenacity what she learned. + +It mattered nothing to Guy that neighbors gossiped there were none +familiar enough to tell him what was said, except the doctor or Mrs. +Noah; and so he heard few of the remarks made so frequently, As in +Honedale, so in Sommerville Maddy was a favorite, and those who +interested themselves most in the matter never said anything worse of +her and Mr. Guy than that he might perhaps be educating his own wife, +and insinuating that it would be a great “come up” for Grandfather +Markham’s child. But Maddy never dreamed of such a thing, and kept on +her pleasant way, reciting every day to Guy and going every Wednesday +to the red cottage, whither, after the first visit to Uncle Joseph, Guy +never accompanied her. Jessie, on the contrary, went often to Honedale, +where one at least always greeted her coming, stealing up closely to +her, and whispering softly: “My Daisy is come again.” + +From the first Uncle Joseph had taken to Jessie, calling her Sarah for +a while, and then changing the name to “Daisy”—“Daisy Mortimer, his +little girl,” he persisted in calling her, watching from his window for +her coming, and crying whenever Maddy appeared without her. At first +Agnes, from her city home, forbade Jessie’s going so often to see a +lunatic; but when Jessie described the poor, crazy man’s delight at +sight of her, telling how quiet and happy he seemed if he could but lay +his hand on her head, or touch her hair, she withdrew her restrictions, +and, as if moved to an unwonted burst of tenderness, wrote to her +daughter: “Comfort that crazy man all you can; he needs it so much.” + +A few weeks after there came another letter from Agnes, but this time +it was to Guy, and its contents darkened his handsome face with anger +and vexation. Incidentally Agnes had heard the gossip, and written it +to Guy, adding in conclusion: “Of course I know it is not true, for +ever if there were no Lucy Atherstone, you, of all men, would not stoop +to Maddy Clyde. I do not presume to advise, but I will say this, that +now she is growing a young lady, folks will keep on talking so long as +you keep her there in the house; and it’s hardly fair toward Lucy.” + +This was what knotted up Guy’s forehead and made him, as Jessie said, +“real cross for once.” Somehow, he fancied, latterly, that the doctor +did not like Maddy’s being there, while even Mrs. Noah managed to keep +her out of his way as soon as the lessons were ended. What did they +mean? what were they afraid of, and why did they presume to interfere +with him? he’d know, at all events; and summoning Mrs. Noah to his +presence, he read that part of Agnes’ letter, pertaining to Maddy, and +then asked what it meant. + +“It means this, that folks are in a constant worry, for fear you’ll +fall in love with Maddy Clyde.” + +“I fall in love with that child!” Guy repeated, laughing at the idea, +and forgetting that he had long since, accused the doctor of doing that +very thing. + +“Yes, you,” returned Mrs. Noah, “and ’taint strange they do; Maddy is +not a child: she’s nearer sixteen than fifteen, is almost a young lady; +and if you’ll excuse my boldness, I must say, I ain’t any too well +pleased with the goin’s on myself; not that I don’t like the girl, for +I do, and I don’t blame her an atom. She’s as innocent as a new-born +babe, and I hope she’ll always stay so; but you, Mr. Guy, you—now tell +me honest—do you think as much of Lucy Atherstone, as you used to, +before you took up school-keepin’?” + +Guy did not like to be interfered with, and naturally high-spirited, he +at first flew into a passion, declaring that he would not have folks +meddling with him, that he thought of Lucy Atherstone all the time, and +he did not know what more he could do; that ’twas a pity if a man could +not enjoy himself in his own way, provided that way were harmless, that +he’d never, in all his life, spent so happy a winter as the last; +that—- + +Here Mrs. Noah interrupted him with: “That’s it, the very _it_; you +want nothing better than to have that girl sit close to you when she +recites, as she does; and once when she was workin’ out some of them +plusses and minuses, and things, her slate rested on your knee; it did, +I saw it with my own eyes; and then, let me ask, when Jessie is +drummin’ on the piano, why don’t you bend over her, and turn the +leaves, and count the time, as you do when Maddy plays; and how does it +happen that lately Jessie is one too many, when you hear Maddy’s +lessons. She has no suspicions, but I know she ain’t sent off for +nothin’; I know you’d rather be alone with Maddy Clyde than to have +anybody present, isn’t it so?” + +Guy began to wince. There was much truth in what Mrs. Noah had said. He +did devise various methods of getting rid of Jessie, when Maddy was in +his library, but it had never looked to him in just the light it did +when presented by Mrs. Noah, and he doggedly asked what Mrs. Noah would +have him do. + +“First and foremost, then, I’d have you tell Maddy yourself that you +are engaged to Lucy Atherstone; second, I’d have you write to Lucy all +about it, and if you honestly can, tell her that you only care for +Maddy as a friend; third, I’d have you send the girl—-” + +“Not away from Aikenside! I never will!” and Guy sprang to his feet. + +The mine had exploded, and for an instant the young man reeled, as he +caught a glimpse of where he stood; still he would not believe it, or +confess to himself how strong a place in his affections was held by the +beautiful girl now no longer a child. It was almost a year since that +April afternoon when he first met Maddy Clyde, and from a timid, +bashful child, of fourteen and a half, she had grown to the rather +tall, and rather self-possessed maiden of fifteen and a half, almost +sixteen, as Mrs. Noah said, “almost a woman;” and as if to verify the +latter fact, she herself appeared at that very moment, asking +permission to come in and find a book, which had been mislaid, and +which she needed in hearing Jessie’s lessons. + +“Certainly, come in,” Guy said, and folding his arms he leaned against +the mantel, watching her as she hunted for the missing book. + +There was no pretense about Maddy Clyde, nothing put on for effect, and +yet in every movement she showed marks of great improvement, both in +manner and style. Of one hundred people who might glance at her, +ninety-nine would look a second time, asking who she was. Naturally +graceful and utterly forgetful of herself, she always appeared to good +advantage, and never to better than now, when two pairs of eyes were +watching her, as standing on tiptoe, or kneeling upon the floor to look +under the secretary, she hunted for the book. Not the remotest +suspicion had Maddy of what was occupying the thoughts of her +companions, though as she left the room and glanced brightly up at Guy, +it struck her that his face was dark and moody, and a painful sensation +flitted through her mind that in some way she had intruded. + +“Well,” was Mrs. Noah’s first comment, as the door closed on Maddy, but +as Guy made no response to that, she continued: “She is pretty. That +you won’t deny.” + +“Yes, more than pretty. She’ll make a most beautiful woman.” + +Guy seemed to talk more to himself than to Mrs. Noah, while his foot +kicked the fender, and he mentally compared Lucy and Maddy with each +other, and tried to think that it was not the result of that +comparison, but rather Mrs. Noah’s next remark, which affected him +unpleasantly. The remark or remarks were as follows: + +“Of course she’ll make a splendid woman. Everybody notices her now for +her beauty, and that’s why you’ve no business to keep her here where +you see her every day. It’s a wrong to her, lettin’ yourself alone.” + +Guy looked up inquiringly, and Mrs. Noah continued: + +“I’ve been a girl myself, and I know that Maddy can’t be treated as you +treat her without its having an effect. I’ve no idea that it’s entered +her head yet, but it will by-and-by, and then good-by to her +happiness.” + +“For pity’s sake, what do you mean? Do explain, and not talk to me in +riddles. What have I done to Maddy, or what am I going to do?” + +Gay spoke savagely, and his boots were in great danger of being burned +as he kicked vigorously against the fender. Coming nearer to him, and +lowering her voice, Mrs. Noah replied: + +“You are going to teach her to love you, Guy Remington, just as sure as +my name is Noah.” + +“And is that anything so very bad, I’d like to know. Most girls do not +find love distasteful,” and Guy walked hastily to the window, where he +stood for a moment gazing out upon the soft April snow, which was +falling, and feeling anything but satisfied either with the weather or +himself; then walking back, and taking a seat before the fire, he said: +“I understand you now. You would save Maddy Clyde from sorrow, and you +are right. You know more of girls than I do. She might in time get +to—to—think of me as she ought not. I never looked upon it in this +light before. I’ve been so happy with her;” here Guy’s voice faltered a +little, but he recovered himself and went on: “I will tell her about +Lucy tonight, but the sending her away, I can’t do that. Neither will +she be happy to go back where I took her from, for though the best of +people, they are not like Maddy, and you know it.” + +Yes, Mrs. Noah did know it, and pleased that her boy, as she called +Guy, had shown some signs of penitence and amendment, she said she did +not think it necessary to send Maddy home; she did not advise it +either. She liked the girl, and what she advised was this, that Guy +should send Maddy and Jessie both to boarding school. Agnes, she knew, +would be willing, and it was the best thing he could do. Maddy would +thus learn what was expected of a teacher, and as soon as she +graduated, she could procure some eligible situation, or if Lucy were +there, and desired it, she could come and stay forever for all what she +cared. + +“And during the vacations, where must she go then?” Guy asked. + +“Go where she pleases, of course. As Jessie is so fond of her, and they +are much like sisters, it will not be improper for her to come here, as +I see, provided Agnes is here. Her presence, of course, would make a +difference,” Mrs. Noah replied, while Guy continued: + +“I know you are right; that is, I do not wish to do Maddy a harm by +placing temptation in her way, neither will I have everybody meddling +with my business. I tell you I won’t. I don’t mean you, for you have a +right to say what no one else has,” and he glanced half angrily at Mrs. +Noah. “Pity if I can’t take an interest in a girl, because I once +wronged her, without every old woman in Christendom thinking she needs +to fall in love with me, and so be ruined for life. Maddy Clyde has too +good sense for that, or will have when I tell her about Lucy.” + +“And you will do so?” Mrs. Noah said coaxingly. + +“Of course I will, and write to Lucy, too, telling her how you talked, +and how I care no more for Maddy than I do for Jessie.” + +“And will that be true?” Mrs. Noah asked. + +Guy could not look her fully in the face then, so he kicked the grate +until the concussion sent the red-hot coals out upon the carpet as he +replied: + +“True? Yes, every word of it.” + +Mrs. Noah noted all this, and thinking within herself: + +“I orto have took him in hand long ago,” she came up to him and said +kindly, soothingly: “We shall all miss Maddy; I as much as any one, but +I do think it best for her to go to school; and so, after tea, I’ll +manage to keep Jessie with me, and send Maddy to you, while you tell +her about Lucy and the plan.” + +Guy nodded a little jerking kind of a nod, in token of his assent, and +then with that perversity which prompts women particularly to press a +subject after enough has been said upon it, Mrs. Noah, as she turned to +leave the room, gave vent to the following: + +“You know, Guy, as well as I, that pretty and smart as she is, Maddy is +really beneath you, and no kind of a match, even if you wan’t as good +as married, which you be;” and the good lady left the room in time to +escape seeing the sparks fly up the chimney, as Guy now made a most +vigorous use of the poker, and so did not finish the scorching process +commenced on the end of his boot. + +Mrs. Noah’s last remark awakened in Guy a Singular train of thought. +Yes, Maddy was his inferior as the world saw matters, and settling +himself in the chair he tried to fancy what that same world would say +if he should make Maddy his wife. Of course he had no such intention, +he was just imagining something which never could possibly happen, +because in the first place he wouldn’t marry Maddy Clyde if he could, +and he couldn’t if he would! Still, it was not an unpleasant occupation +fancying what folks, and especially Agnes, would say if he did, and so +he sat dreaming about it until the bell rang for supper, when with a +nervous start he woke from the reverie, and wishing the whole was over, +started for the supper. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. +MADDY AND LUCY. + + +Supper was over, and Guy was back again in his library. He had not +stopped as he usually did, to romp with Jessie or talk to Maddy Clyde, +until it was so dark that he could not see her sparkling face, but had +come directly back, dropping the heavy curtains and piling fresh coal +upon the fire. Mrs. Noah had lighted the lamps and then gone after +Maddy, explaining to Jessie how she must stay with her while Maddy went +to Mr. Guy, who wanted to talk with her. + +“Is he angry with me, Mrs. Noah?” and remembering his moody looks when +she went in quest of the book, Maddy felt her heart misgive her as to +what might be the result of an interview with Guy. + +Mrs. Noah, however, reassured her, and Maddy stole for a moment to her +own room to see how she was looking. The crimson dress, with its soft +edge of lace about the slender throat, became her well, and smoothing +the folds of her black silk apron, whose jaunty shoulder pieces gave +her a very girlish appearance, she went down to where Guy was waiting +for her. He heard her coming, and involuntarily drew nearer to him the +chair where he intended she should sit. But Maddy took instead a stool, +and leaning her elbow on the chair, turned her face fully toward him, +waiting for him to speak. + +“Maddy,” he began, “are you happy here at Aikenside?” + +“Oh, yes, very, very happy,” and Maddy’s soft eyes shone with the +happiness she tried to express. + +It was at least a minute before he spoke again, and when he did, it +came out how he had concluded it best to send her and Jessie to school, +for a year or two at least; not that he was tired of teaching her, but +it would be better for her, he thought, to mingle with other girls and +learn the ways of the world. Aikenside would still be her home, still +the place where her vacations would be spent with Jessie if she chose, +and then he spoke of New York as the place he had in view, and asked +her what she thought of it. + +Maddy was too much stunned to think of anything at first. That the good +she had coveted most should be placed within her grasp, and by Guy +Remington too, was almost too much to credit. She was happy at +Aikenside, but she had never expected her life there to continue very +long, and had often wished that when it ended she might devise some +means of entering a seminary as other young ladies did. But she had +never dreamed of being sent to school by Guy, nor could she conceive of +his motive. He hardly knew himself, only he liked her, and wished to do +something for her. This was his reply to her tearful question: + +“Oh, Mr. Remington, you are so good to me; what makes you?” + +He liked her, and all over Maddy’s face there spread a beautiful flush +as the words rang in her ears. And then she told Guy how much she +wished to be a teacher, and so take care of her grandparents and her +poor Uncle Joseph. It seemed almost cruel for that young creature to be +burdened with the care of those three half-helpless people, and Guy +shuddered just as he usually did when he associated Maddy with them, +but when he listened while she told him of all the castles she had +built, and in every one of which there was a place for “our folks,” as +she termed them, it was more in the form of a blessing than a caress +that his hand rested on her shining hair. + +“You are a good girl, Maddy,” he said, “and I am glad now that I have +concluded to send you where you can be better fitted for the office you +mean to fill than you could be here, but I shall miss you sadly. I like +little girls, and though you can hardly be classed there now, you seem +to me much like Jessie, and I take pleasure in doing for you as I would +for her. Maddy—-” + +Guy stopped, uncertain what to say next, while Maddy’s eyes again +looked up inquiringly. + +He was going now to tell “the little girl much like Jessie” of Lucy +Atherstone, and the words would not come at first. + +“Maddy,” he said, again blushing guiltily, “I have said I liked you, +and so I hope will some one else. I have written of you to her.” + +Up to this point Maddy had a vague idea that he meant the doctor, but +the “her” dispelled that thought, and a most inexplicable feeling of +numbness crept over her as she asked faintly: + +“Written to whom?” + +Guy did not look at Maddy. He only knew that her head moved out from +beneath his hand as he replied: + +“To Miss Atherstone—Miss Lucy Atherstone. Have you never heard of her?” + +No, Maddy never had, and with that same numbness she could not +understand, she listened while Guy told her who Lucy Atherstone was, +and why she was not at that moment the mistress of Aikenside. There was +no reason why Guy should be excited, but he was, and he talked very +rapidly, never once glancing at Maddy until he had finished speaking. +She was looking at him intently, wondering if he could hear as she did +the beatings of her heart. Had her life depended upon it, she could not +at first have spoken, for the numbness which, like bands of steel, +seemed to press all the feeling out of it. She did not know why it was +that hearing of Lucy Atherstone should affect her so. Surely she ought +to be glad for Guy that he possessed the love of so sweet a creature as +he described her to be. He was glad, she knew, he talked so +energetically—so much as if it were a pleasure to talk; and she was +glad, too, only it had taken her so by surprise to know that Mr. Guy, +whom she had rather considered as exclusively her own and Jessie’s was +engaged, and that some time, before long it might be, Aikenside would +really have a mistress. She did not quite understand Guy’s last words, +although she was looking at him, and he asked her twice if she would +like to see Lucy’s picture ere she comprehended what he meant. + +“Yes,” came faintly from the parted lips, about which there was a +slight quiver as she put up her hand to take the case Guy drew from his +bosom. + +Turning it to the light she gazed silently upon the sweet young face, +which seemed to return her gaze with a look as earnest and lifelike as +her own. + +“What do you think of her—of my Lucy? Is she not pretty?” Guy asked, +bending down so that his dark hair swept against Maddy’s, while his +warm breath touched her burning cheeks. + +“Yes, she’s beautiful, oh! so beautiful, and happy, too. I wish I had +been like her. I wish—” and Maddy burst into a most uncontrollable fit +of weeping, her tears dropping like rain upon the inanimate features of +Lucy Atherstone. + +Guy looked at her amazed, his own heart throbbing with a keen pang of +something undefinable as he listened to her stormy weeping. What did +ail her? he wondered. Could it be that the evil against which he was +providing had really come upon her? Was Maddy more interested in him +than he supposed? He hoped not, though with a man’s vanity he felt a +slight thrill of satisfaction in thinking that it might be so. Guy knew +this feeling was not worthy of him, and he struggled to cast it off, +while he asked Maddy why she cried. + +Child as she was, the real cause of her tears never entered her brain, +and she answered: + +“I can’t tell why, unless I was thinking how different Miss Atherstone +is from me. She’s rich and handsome. I am poor and homely, and—” + +“No, Maddy, you are not;” and Guy interrupted her. + +Gently lifting up her head, he smoothed back her hair, and keeping a +hand on each side of her face, said, pleasantly: + +“You are not homely. I think you quite as pretty as Lucy; I do, +really,” he continued, as her eyes kindled at the compliment. “I am +going to write to her to-night, and shall tell her more about you. I +want you to like each other very much when she comes, so that you may +live with us. Aikenside would not be Aikenside without you, Maddy.” + +In all his wooings of Lucy Atherstone, Guy’s voice had never been +tenderer in its tone than when he said this to Maddy, whose lip +quivered again, and who involuntarily laid her head now upon his knee +as she cried a second time, not noisily, but quietly, softly, as if +this crying did her good. For several minutes they sat there thus, the +nature of their thoughts known only to each other, for neither spoke, +until Maddy, half ashamed of her emotions, lifted up her head, and +said: + +“I do not know what made me cry, only I’d been so happy here that I +guess I’d come to think that you only liked Jessie and me. Of course I +knew that some time you would see and think all the world of somebody +else, but I did not expect it so soon. I am afraid Miss Atherstone will +not fancy me, and I know most I shall not feel as free here, after she +comes, as I do now. Then your being so good, sending me to school, +helped me to cry more, and so I was very foolish. Don’t tell Miss +Atherstone that I cried. Tell her, though, how beautiful she is, and +how glad I am that she loves you, and is going to be your wife.” + +Maddy’s voice was very steady in its tone. She evidently meant what she +said, but Guy, the bad man, did not feel as graciously as he ought to +have felt in knowing that Maddy Clyde was glad “Lucy loved him, and was +to be his wife.” + +Guy was rather uncomfortable, and as Maddy was in some way associated +with his discomfort, he did not oppose her when she arose to leave him. + +Had Maddy been more a woman, or less a child, she would have seen that +it was well for her to know of Lucy Atherstone before her feelings for +Guy Remington had assumed a definite form. As it was, she never dreamed +how near she was to loving Aikenside’s young heir; and while talking +with Jessie of the grand times they should have at school, she marveled +at that little round spot of pain which was burning at her heart, or +why she should wish that Guy would not speak of her in his letter to +Lucy Atherstone. + +But Guy did speak of her, frankly confessing the interest he felt in +her, telling just how people were beginning to talk, and asking Lucy if +she cared, declaring that if she did, he would not see Maddy Clyde any +more than was necessary. In a little less than four weeks there came an +answer from Lucy, who, with health somewhat improved, had returned to +England, and wrote to Guy from Brighton, where she expected to spend +the summer, half hoping Guy might join her there, though she could not +urge it, as mamma still insisted that she was not able to take upon +herself the duties of a wife. Then she spoke of Maddy Clyde, saying +“She was not one bit jealous of her dear Guy, Of course ignorant, +meddling people, of whom she feared there were a great many in America, +would gossip, but he was not to mind them.” Then she said that if Maddy +were willing, she would so much like her picture, as she had a +curiosity to know just how she looked, and if Maddy pleased, “would she +write a few lines, so as not to seem so much a stranger?” + +Lucy Atherstone had been educated to think a great deal of birth, and +blood, and family, and Guy never did a wiser thing than when he told +her that according to English views, Maddy was a lady. It went far +toward reconciling Lucy to his interest in one whom her haughtier and +more sanguine mother called a rival, advising her mother to ignore her +altogether. But Lucy’s was a different nature, and though it cost her +pride a pang, she asked for a line from Maddy, partly to mortify that +pride, and partly to prove to Guy how free she was from jealousy. + +“Darling little Lucy, I do love her very dearly,” was Guy’s comment, as +he finished reading her letter, feeling somewhat as if her mother were +a kind of cruel ogress, bent on preventing him from being happy. Then, +as he remembered Lucy’s hope that he might join her, and thought how +much easier of access New York was than Brighton, he said, half +petulantly: + +“I’ve been to England for nothing times enough. When that mother of +hers says I may have Lucy, I’ll go again, but not before. It don’t +pay.” + +And crushing the letter into his pocket, he went out upon the piazza +where were assembled Maddy, Jessie and Mrs. Agnes, the latter of whom +had come to Aikenside the day before. + +At first she had objected to the boarding-school arrangement, saying +Jessie was too young, but Guy as usual had overruled her objections, as +he had those of Grandpa Markham, and it was now a settled thing that +Maddy and Jessie both should go to New York, Mrs. Agnes to accompany +them if she chose, and having a general supervision of her child. This +was Guy’s plan, the one which had prevailed with the fashionable woman, +who, tired of Boston, was well pleased with the prospect of a life in +New York. Guy’s interest in Maddy was wholly inexplicable to her, +unless she explained it on the principal that in the Remington nature +there was a fondness for governesses, as had been exemplified in her +own history. That Guy would ever marry Maddy she doubted, but the mere +possibility of it made her set her teeth firmly together as she thought +how embarrassing it would be to acknowledge as the mistress of +Aikenside the little girl whom she had sought to banish from her table. +Since her return she had had no opportunity of judging for herself how +matters stood, and was consequently much relieved when, as Guy joined +them, he began at once to speak of Lucy, telling of the letter, and her +request for Maddy’s picture. + +“Me? Mine? You cannot mean that?” Maddy exclaimed, her eyes opening +wide with wonder, but Guy did mean it, and began to plan a drive on the +morrow to Devonshire, where there was at that time a tolerably fair +artist. + +Accordingly the next day the four went down to Devonshire, calling +first upon the doctor, whose face brightened when he heard why they had +come. During the weeks that had passed, the doctor had not been blind +to at that was passing at Aikenside, and the fear that Guy was more +interested in Maddy than he ought to be, had grown almost to a +certainty. Now, however, he was not so sure. Indeed, the fact that Guy +had told her of Lucy Atherstone would indicate that his suspicions were +groundless, and he entered heartily into the picture plan, saying +laughingly that if he supposed Miss Lucy would like his face he’d sit +himself, and bidding Guy be sure to ask her. The doctor’s gay spirits +helped raise those of Maddy, and as that little burning spot in her +heart was fast wearing away, she was in just the mood for a most +admirable likeness. Indeed, the artist’s delight at his achievement was +unbounded, as he declared it the very best picture he had ever taken. +It was beautiful, even Agnes acknowledged to herself, while Jessie wait +into raptures, and Maddy blushed to hear her own praises. Guy said +nothing, except to ask that Maddy should sit again; this was good, but +a second might be better. So Maddy sat again, succeeding quite as well +as at first, but as the artist’s preference was for the former, it was +left to be finished up, with the understanding that Guy would call for +it. As the ladies passed down the stairs, Guy lingered behind, and when +sure they were out of hearing, said in a low voice: + +“You may as well finish both; they are too good to be lost.” + +The artist bowed, and Guy, with a half guilty blush, hurried down into +the street, where Agues was waiting for him. Two hours later, Guy, in +Mrs. Conner’s parlor, was exhibiting the finished picture, which in its +handsome casing, was more beautiful than ever, and more natural, if +possible. + +“I think I might have one of Maddy’s,” Jessie said, half poutingly; +then, as she remembered the second sitting, she begged of Guy to get it +for her, “that was a dear brother.” + +But the “dear brother” did not seem inclined to comply with her +request, putting her off, until, despairing of success, Jessie, when +alone with the doctor, tried her powers of persuasion on him, coaxing +until in self-defense he crossed the street, and entering the +daguerrean gallery asked for the remaining picture of Miss Clyde, +saying that he wished it for little Miss Remington. + +“Mr. Remington took them both,” the artist replied, commencing a +dissertation on the style and beauty of the young girl, all of which +was lost upon the doctor, who, in a kind of maze, quitted the room, and +returning to Jessie, said to her carelessly: “He hasn’t it. You know +they rub out those they do not use. So you’ll have to do without; and, +Jessie, I wouldn’t tell Guy I tried to get it for you.” + +Jessie wondered why she must not tell Guy, but the fact that the doctor +requested her not was sufficient. Consequently Guy little guessed that +the doctor knew what it was he carried so carefully in his coat pocket, +looking at it earnestly when at home and alone in his own room, +admiring its soft, girlish beauty, half shrinking from the lifelike +expression of the large, bright eyes, and trying to convince himself +that his sole object in getting it was to give it to the doctor after +Maddy was gone! It would be such a surprise, and the doctor would be so +glad, that Guy finally made himself believe that he had done a most +generous thing! + +“I am going to send Lucy your picture to-day, and as she asked that you +should write her a few lines, suppose you do it now,” Guy said to Maddy +next morning, as they were leaving the breakfast table. + +It was a sore trial to Maddy to write to Lucy Atherstone, but she +offered no remonstrance, and so accompanying the picture was a little +note, filled mostly with praises of Mr. Guy, and which would be very +gratifying to the unsuspecting Lucy. + +Now that it was fully decided for Jessie to go with Maddy, her lessons +were suspended, and Aikenside for the time being was turned into a vast +dressmaking and millinery establishment. With his usual generosity, Guy +had given Agnes permission to draw upon his purse for whatever was +needed, either for herself or Jessie, with the definite understanding +that Maddy should have an equal share of dress and attention. + +“It will not be necessary,” he said, “for you to enlighten the citizens +of New York with regard to Maddy’s position. She goes there as Jessie’s +equal, and as such her wardrobe must be suitable.” + +No one could live long with Maddy Clyde without becoming interested in +her, and in spite of herself Agnes’ dislike was wearing away, +particularly as of late she had seen no signs of special attention on +the doctor’s part. He had gotten over his weakness, she thought, and so +was very gracious toward Maddy, who, naturally forgiving, began to like +her better than she had ever dreamed it possible for her to like so +proud and haughty a woman. Down at the cottage in Honedale there were +many consultations held and many fears expressed by the aged couple as +to what would be the result of all Guy was doing for their child. +Womanlike, Grandma Markham felt a flutter of pride in thinking that +Maddy was going to school in a big city like New York. It gave her +something to talk about with her less fortunate neighbors, who +wondered, and gossiped, and envied, but could not bring themselves to +feel unkindly toward the girl Maddy, who had grown up in their midst, +and who as yet was wholly unchanged by prosperity. Grandpa Markham, on +the contrary, though pleased that Maddy should have every opportunity +for acquiring the education she so much desired, was fearful of the +result—fearful that there might come a time when his darling would +shrink from the relations to whom she was as sunshine to the flowers. +He knew that the difference between Aikenside and the cottage must +strike her unpleasantly every time she came home, and he did not blame +her for her always apparent readiness to go back. That was natural, he +thought, but a life in New York, that great city which to the +simple-hearted old man seemed a very Babylon of iniquity, was +different, and for a time he demurred to sending her there. But Guy +persuaded him, and when he heard that Agnes was going, too, he +consented, for he had faith in Agnes as a protector. Maddy had never +told him of the scene which followed that lady’s return from Saratoga. +Indeed, Maddy never told anything but good of Aikenside or its inmates, +and so Mrs. Agnes came in for a share of the old people’s gratitude, +while even Uncle Joseph, hearing daily a prayer for the “young madam,” +as grandpa termed her, learned to pray for her himself, coupling her +name with that of Sarah, and asking in his crazy way that God would +“forgive Sarah” first, and then “bless the madam—the madam—the madam.” + +A few days before Maddy’s departure, grandpa went up to see “the +madam;” anxious to know something more than hearsay about a person to +whose care his child was to be partially intrusted. Agnes was in her +room when told who wanted to see her. Starting quickly, she turned so +deadly white that Maddy, who brought the message, flew to her side, +asking in much alarm, what was the matter. + +“Only a little faint. It will soon pass off,” Agnes said, and then, +dismissing Maddy, she tried to compose herself sufficiently to pass the +ordeal she so much dreaded, and from which there was no possible +escape. + +Thirteen years! Had they changed her past recognition? She hoped, she +believed so, and yet, never in her life had Agnes Remington’s heart +beaten with so much terror and apprehension as when she entered the +reception room where Guy sat talking with the infirm old man she +remembered so well. He had grown older, thinner, poorer looking, than +when she saw him last, but in his wrinkled face there was the same +benignant, heavenly expression which, when she was better than she was +now, used to remind her of the angels. His snowy hair was parted just +the same as ever, but the mild blue eye was dimmer, and it rested on +her with no suspicious glance as, partially reassured, she glided +across the threshold, and bowed civilly when Guy presented her. + +A little anxious as to how her grandfather would acquit herself, Maddy +sat by, wondering why Agnes appeared so ill at ease, and why her +grandsire started sometimes at the sound of her voice, and looked +earnestly at her. + +“We’ve never met before to my knowledge, young woman,” he said once to +Agnes, “but you are mighty like somebody, and your voice when you talk +low keeps makin’ me jump as if I’d heard it summers or other.” + +After that Agnes spoke in elevated tones, as if she thought him deaf, +and the mystified look of wonder did not return to his face. Numerous +were the charges he gave to Agnes concerning Maddy, bidding her be +watchful of his child, and see that she did not “get too much drinked +in with the wicked things on Broadway!” then, as he arose to go, he +laid his trembling hand on her head and said solemnly: “You are young +yet, lady, and there may be a long life before you. God bless you, +then, and prosper you in proportion as you are kind to Maddy. I’ve +nothing to give you nor Mr. Guy for your goodness only my prayers, and +them you have every day. We all pray for you, lady, Joseph and all, +though I doubt me he knows much the meaning of what he says.” “Who, +sir? What did you say?” and Agnes’ face was scarlet, as grandpa +replied: “Joseph, our unfortunate boy; Maddy must have told you, the +one who’s taken such a shine to Jessie. He’s crazy-like, and from the +corner where he sits so much, I can hear him whispering by the hour, +sometimes of folks he used to know, and then of you, who we call madam. +He says for ten minutes on the stretch: “God bless the madam—the +madam—the madam!” You’re sick, lady; talkin’ about crazy folks makes +you faint,” grandpa added, hastily, as Agnes turned white, like the +dress she wore. “No—oh, no, I’m better now,” Agnes gasped, bowing him +to the door with a feeling that she could not breathe a moment longer +in his presence. He did not hear her faint cry of bitter, bitter +remorse, as he walked through the hall, nor know she watched him as he +went slowly down the walk, stopping often to admire the fair blossoms +which Maddy did not feel at liberty to pick. “He loved flowers,” Agnes +whispered, as her better nature prevailed over every other feeling, +and, starting eagerly forward, she ran after the old man, who, +surprised at her evident haste, waited a little anxiously for her to +speak. It was rather difficult to do so with Maddy’s inquiring eyes +upon her, but Agnes managed at last to say: “Does that crazy man like +flowers—the one who prays for the madam?” “Yes, he used to years ago,” +grandpa replied; and, bending down, Agnes began to pick and arrange +into a most tasteful bouquet the blossoms and buds of May, growing so +profusely within the borders. + +“Take them to him, will you?” and her hand shook as she passed to +Grandpa Markham the gift which would thrill poor crazy Joseph with a +strange delight, making him hold converse a while with the unseen +presence which he called “she,” and then whisper blessings on the +madam’s head. Three days after this, a party of four left Aikenside, +which presented a most forlorn and cheerless appearance to the +passers-by, who were glad almost as the servants when, at the +expiration of a week, Guy came back and took up his olden life of +solitude and loneliness, with nothing in particular to interest him, +except his books the letters he wrote to Lucy; unless, indeed, it were +those he was going to write to Maddy, who, with Jessie, had promised to +become his correspondents. Nothing but these and the picture—the +doctor’s picture—the one designed expressly for him, and which troubled +him greatly. Believing that he had fully intended it for the doctor, +Guy felt as if it were, in a measure, stolen property, and this made +him prize it all the more. + +Now that Maddy was away, Guy missed her terribly, wondering how he had +ever lived without her, and sometimes working himself into a violent +passion against the meddlesome neighbors who would not let her remain +with him in peace, and who, now that she was gone, did not stop their +talking one whit. Of this last, however, he was ignorant, as there was +no one to tell him how people marveled more than ever, feeling +confident now that he was educating his own wife, and making sundry +hateful remarks as to what he intended doing with her relations. Guy +only knew that he was very lonely, that Lucy’s letters seemed insipid, +that even the doctor failed to interest him, as of old, and that his +greatest comfort was in looking at the bright young face which seemed +to smile so trustfully upon him from the tiny casing, just as Maddy had +smiled upon him when, in Madam ——’s parlor, he bade her good-by. The +doctor could not have that picture, he finally decided. Hal ought to be +satisfied with getting Maddy, as of course he would, for wasn’t he +educating her for that very purpose? Certainly he was, and, as a kind +of atonement for what he deemed treachery to his friend, he talked with +him often of her, always taking it for granted that when she was old +enough, the doctor would woo and win the little girl who had come to +him in his capacity of inspector, as candidate number one. + +At first, the doctor suspected him of acting a part in order to cover +up some design of his own with regard to Maddy, and affected an +indifference he did not feel; but, as time passed on, Guy, who really +believed himself sincere, managed to make the doctor believe so, too. +Consequently, the latter abandoned his suspicions, and gave himself up +to blissful dreams of what might possibly be when Maddy should have +become the brilliant woman she was sure one day to be. Alas! for the +doctor’s dreams. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. +THE HOLIDAYS. + + +The summer vacation had been spent by the Remington’s and Maddy at the +seaside, the latter coming to the cottage for a week before returning +to her school in New York, and as the doctor was then absent from home, +she did not meet him at all. Consequently he had not seen her since she +left Aikenside for New York. But she was at home now for the Christmas +holidays—was down at the cottage, too; and unusually nervous for him, +the doctor stood before the little square glass in his back office, +trying to make himself look as well as possible, for he was going that +very afternoon to call upon Miss Clyde. He was glad she was not at +Aikenside; he would rather meet her where Guy was not, and he hoped he +might be fortunate enough to find her alone. + +The doctor was seriously in love. He acknowledged that now to himself, +confessing, too, that with his love was mingled a spice of jealousy, +lest Guy Remington should be expending more thought on Maddy Clyde than +was consistent with the promised husband of Lucy Atherstone. He wished +so much to talk with Guy about her, and yet he dreaded it; for if the +talk should confirm his suspicious there would be no hope for him. No +girl in her right mind would prefer him to Guy Remington, and with a +little sigh the doctor was turning away from the glass, when, as if to +verify a familiar proverb, Guy himself drove up in a most dashing +equipage, the silver-tipped harness of his high-mettled steed flashing +in the wintry sunlight, and the bright-hued lining of his fanciful +robes presenting a very gay appearance. + +Guy was in the best of spirits. For an entire half day he had tried to +devise some means to getting Maddy up to Aikenside. It was quite too +bad for her to spend the whole vacation at the cottage, as she seemed +likely to do. He knew she was lonely there; that the bare floor and +low, dark walls affected her unpleasantly. He had seen that in her face +when he bade her good-by, for he had carried her down to the cottage +himself, and now he was going after her. There was to be a party at +Aikenside; the very first since Guy was its master. The neighbors had +said he was too proud to invite them, but they should say so no more. +The house was to be thrown open in honor of Guy’s twenty-sixth +birthday, and all who were at all desirable as guests were to be bidden +to the festival. First on the list was the doctor, who, remembering how +averse Guy was to large parties, wondered at the proceedings. But Guy +was all engaged in the matter, and after telling who were to be +invited, added rather indifferently: “I’m going now down to Honedale +after Maddy. It’s better for her to be with us a day or two beforehand. +You’ve seen her, of course.” + +No, the doctor had not; he was just going there, he said, in a tone so +full of sad disappointment, that Guy detected it at once, and asked if +anything was the matter. + +“Guy,” the doctor continued, sitting down by his friend, “I remember +once your making me your confidant about Lucy. You remember it, too?” + +“Yes, why? well?” Guy replied, beginning to feel strangely +uncomfortable as he half divined what was coming next. + +Latterly Guy had stopped telling the doctor that he was educating Maddy +for him. Indeed, he did not talk of her at all, and the doctor might +have fancied her out of his mind but for the frequent visits to New +York, which Guy found it absolutely necessary to make. Guy did not +himself understand the state of his own feelings with regard to Maddy, +but if compelled to explain them they would have been something as +follows: He fully expected to marry Lucy Atherstone; the possibility +that he should not had never occurred to him, but that was no reason +why Maddy Clyde need be married for these many years. She was very +young yet; there was time enough for her to think of marrying when she +was twenty-five, and in the meanwhile it would be splendid to have her +at Aikenside as Lucy’s and his friend. Nothing could be nicer, and Guy +did not care to have this little arrangement spoiled. But that the +doctor had an idea of spoiling it, he had not a doubt, particularly +after the doctor’s next remark. + +“I have not seen Maddy since last spring, you know. Is she very much +improved?” + +“Yes, very much. There is no more stylish-looking girl to be seen on +Broadway than Maddy Clyde,” and Guy shook down his pantaloons a little +awkwardly. + +“Well, is she as handsome as she used to be, and as childish in her +manner?” the doctor asked; and Guy replied: + +“I took her to the opera once, last month, and the many admiring +glances cast at our box proved pretty positively that Maddy’s beauty +was not of the ordinary kind.” + +“The opera!” the doctor exclaimed; “Maddy Clyde at the opera! What +would her grandfather say? He is very puritanical, you know.” + +“Yes, I know; and so is Maddy, too. She wrote and obtained his consent +before she’d go with me. He won’t let her go to a theatre anyhow.” + +Here an interval of silence ensued, and then the doctor began again, + +“Guy, you told me once you were educating Maddy Clyde for me, and I +tried then to make you think I didn’t care; but I did, oh, so much. +Guy, laugh at me, if you please. I cannot blame you if you do; but the +fact is, I believe I’ve loved Maddy Clyde ever since that time she was +so sick. At all events, I love her now, and I was going down there this +very afternoon to tell her so. She’s old enough. She was sixteen last +October, the—the——” + +“Tenth day,” Guy responded, thus showing that he, too, was keeping +Maddy’s age, even to a day. + +“Yes, the tenth day,” resumed the doctor. “There’s ’most eleven years’ +difference between us, but if she feels at all as I do, she will not +care, Guy;” and the doctor began to talk earnestly: “I’ll be candid +with you, and say that you have sometimes made my heart ache a little.” + +“Me!” and Guy’s face was crimson, while the doctor continued: + +“Yes, and I beg your pardon for it; but let me ask you one question, +and upon its answer will depend my future course with regard to Maddy: +You are true to Lucy?” + +Guy felt the blood trickling at the roots of his hair, but he answered +truthfully as he believed: + +“Yes, true as steel;” while the generous thought came over him that he +would further the doctor’s plans all he possibly could. + +“Then I am satisfied,” the doctor rejoined; “and as you have rather +assumed the position of her guardian or brother, I ask your permission +to offer her the love which whether she accepts it or not, is hers.” + +Guy had never felt a sharper pang than that which now thrilled through +every nerve, but he would not prove false to the friend confiding in +him, and he answered calmly: + +“You have my consent; but, Doc, better put it off till you see her at +Aikenside. There’s no chance at the cottage, with those three old +people. I wonder she don’t go wild. I’m sure I should.” + +Guy was growing rather savage about something, but the doctor did not +mind; and grasping his arm as he arose, he said: + +“And you’ll manage it for me, Guy? You know how. I don’t. You’ll +contrive for me to see her alone, and maybe say a word beforehand in my +favor.” + +“Yes, yes, I’ll manage it. I’ll fix it right. Don’t forget, day after +to-morrow night. The Cutlers’ will be there, and, by the way, Marcia +has got to be a splendid girl. She fancied you once, you know. Old +Cutler is worth half a million.” And Guy tore himself away from the +doctor, who, now that the ice was broken, would like to have talked of +Maddy forever. + +But Guy was not thus inclined, and in a mood not extremely amiable, he +threw himself into his sleigh and went dashing down toward Honedale. +For some unaccountable reason he was not now one bit interested in the +party, and, were it not that a few of the invitations were issued, he +would have been tempted to give it up. Guy did not know what ailed him. +He only felt as if somebody had been meddling with his plans, and had +he been in the habit of swearing, he would probably have sworn; but as +he was not, he contented himself with driving like a second Jehu he +reached Honedale, where a pair of soft, brown eyes smiled up into his +face, and a little, fat, warm hand was clasped in his, as Maddy came +even to the gate to meet him. + +She was very glad to see him. The cottage with its humble adornings did +seem lonely, almost dreary, after the life and bustle of New York, and +Maddy had cried more than once to think how hard and wicked she must be +growing when her home had ceased to be the dear old home she once loved +so well. She had been there five days now, and notwithstanding the +efforts of her grandparents to entertain her, each day had seemed a +week in its duration. Neither the doctor nor Guy had been near her, and +capricious little Maddy had made herself believe that the former was +sadly remiss in his duty, inasmuch as he had not seen her for so long. +He had been in the habit of calling every week, her grandmother said, +and this did not tend to increase her amiability. Why didn’t he come +now when he knew she was at home? Didn’t he want to see her? Well, she +could be indifferent, too, and when they did meet, she’d show how +little she cared! + +Maddy was getting to be a woman with womanly freaks, as the reader will +readily see. At Guy she was not particularly piqued. She did not take +his attentions, as a matter of course; still she thought more of him, +if possible, than of the doctor, during those five days, saying to +herself each morning: “He’ll surely come to-day,” and to herself each +night: “He will be here to-morrow.” She had something to show him at +last—a letter from Lucy Atherstone, who had gradually come to be her +regular correspondent, and whom Maddy had learned to love with all the +intensity of her girlhood. To her ardent imagination Lucy Atherstone +was but a little lower than the angels, and the pure, sweet thoughts +contained in every letter were doing almost as much toward molding her +character as Grandpa Markham’s prayers and constant teachings. Maddy +did not know it, but it was these letters from Lucy which kept her from +loving Guy Remington. She could not for a moment associate him with +herself when she so constantly thought of him as the husband of +another, and that other Lucy Atherstone. Not for worlds would Maddy +have wronged the gentle creature who wrote to her so confidingly of +Guy, envying her in that she could so often see his face and hear his +voice, while his betrothed was separated from him by many thousand +miles. Little by little it had come out that Lucy’s mother was averse +to the match, that she had in her mind the case of an English lord, who +would make her daughter “My Lady;” and this was the secret of her +deferring so long her daughter’s marriage. In her last letter to Maddy, +however, Lucy had written with more than her usual spirit that she +would come in possession of her property on her twenty-fifth birthday. +She should then feel at liberty to act for herself, and she launched +out into joyful anticipations of the time when she should come to +Aikenside and meet her dear Maddy Clyde. Feeling that Guy, if he did +not already know it, would be glad to hear it, Maddy had all the +morning been wishing he would come; and when she saw him at the gate +she ran out to meet him, her eyes and face sparkling with eager joy as +she suffered him to retain her hand while she said: “I am so glad to +see you, Mr. Remington. I almost thought you had forgotten me at +Aikenside, Jessie and all.” + +Guy began to exclaim against any one’s forgetting her, and also to +express his pleasure at finding her so glad to see him, when Maddy +interrupted him with, “Oh, it’s not that; I’ve something to show +you—something which will make you very happy. I had a letter from Lucy +last night. When she is twenty-five she will be her own mistress, you +know, and she means to be married in spite of her mother—she says—let +me see—” and drawing from her bosom Lucy’s letter, Maddy read, “‘I do +not intend to fail in filial obedience, but I have tired dear Guy’s +patience long enough, and as soon as I can I shall marry him.’ Isn’t it +nice?” and returning the letter to its hiding place, Maddy scooped up +in her hand and ate a quantity of the snow beside the path. + +“Yes, it was very nice,” Guy admitted, but there was a shadow on his +brow as he followed Maddy into the cottage, where the lunatic, who had +been watching them from the window, shook his head doubtfully and said, +“Too young, too young for you, young man. You can’t have our Sunshine +if you want her.” + +“Hush, Uncle Joseph,” Maddy whispered, softly, taking his arm and +laying it around her neck. “Mr. Remington don’t want me. He is engaged +to a beautiful English girl across the sea.” + +Low as Maddy’s words were, Guy heard them, as well as the crazy man’s +reply, “Engagements have been broken.” + +That was the first time the possibility had ever entered Guy’s brain +that his engagement might be broken, provided he wished it, which he +did not, he said to himself positively. Lucy loved him, he loved Lucy, +and that was enough, so in a kind of abstracted manner arising from the +fact that he was calculating how long it would be before Lucy was +twenty-five, he began to talk with Maddy, asking how she had spent her +time, and so forth. This reminded Maddy of the doctor, who, she said, +had not been to see her at all. + +“He was coming this morning,” Guy rejoined, “but I persuaded him to +defer his call until you were at Aikenside. I have come to take you +back with me, as we are to have a party day after to-morrow evening, +and I wish you to be present.” + +A party, a big party, such as Maddy had never in her life attended! How +her eyes sparkled from mere anticipation as she looked appealingly to +her grandfather, who, though classing parties with the pomps and +vanities from which he would shield his child, still remembered that he +once was young, that fifty years ago he, too, like Maddy, wanted “to +see the folly of it,” and not take the mere word of older people that +in every festive scene there was a pitfall, strewn over so thickly with +roses that it was ofttimes hard to tell just where its boundary line +commenced. Besides that, grandpa had faith in Guy, and so his consent +was granted, and Maddy was soon on her way to Aikenside, which +presented a gayer, busier appearance than she had ever known before. +Jessie was wild with delight, dragging forth at once the pink dress +which she was to wear, and whispering to Maddy that Guy had bought a +dark blue silk for her, and that Sarah Jones was at that moment +fashioning it after a dress left there by Maddy the previous summer. + +“Mother said plain white muslin was more appropriate for a young girl, +but Brother Guy said no; fee blue would be useful after the party; it +was what you needed, and so he bought it and paid a dollar and +three-quarters a yard, but it’s a secret until you are called to try it +on. Isn’t Guy splendid?” + +He was indeed splendid, Maddy thought, wondering why he was so kind to +her, and if it would be so when Lucy came. The dress fitted admirably, +only Maddy thought grandpa would say it was too low in the neck, but +Sarah overruled her objections, assisted by Guy, who, when the dress +was completed and tried on for the last time, was called in by Jessie +to see if “Maddy’s neck didn’t look just like cheese curd,” and if “she +shouldn’t have a piece sewed on as she suggested.” The neck was _au +fait_, Guy said, laughing as Maddy for blushing so, and saying when he +saw how really distressed she seemed that he would provide her with +something to relieve the bareness of which she complained. “Oh, I know, +I saw, I peeked in the box,” Jessie began, but Guy put his hand over +the little tattler’s mouth, bidding her keep the result of her peeking +to herself. + +And for once Jessie succeeded in doing so, although she several times +set Maddy to guessing what it was Guy had for her in a box! As the size +of the box was not mentioned, Maddy had fully made up her mind to a +shawl or scarf, and was proportionately disappointed when, as she was +dressing for the party, there was sent up to her room a small round +box, scarcely large enough to hold an apple, much less a small scarf. +The present proved to be a pair of plain but heavy bracelets, and a +most exquisitely wrought chain of gold, to which was appended a +beautiful pearl cross, the whole accompanied with the words, “From +Guy.” Jessie was in ecstasies again. Clasping the ornaments on Maddy’s +neck and arms, she danced around her, declaring there never was +anything more beautiful, or anybody as pretty as Maddy was in her rich +party dress. Maddy was fond of jewelry—as what young girl is not?—and +felt a flush of gratified pride, or vanity, or satisfaction, whichever +one chooses to call it, as she glanced at herself in the mirror and +remembered the time when, riding with the doctor, she had met Mrs. +Agnes, with golden bracelets flashing on her arms, and wished she might +one day wear something like them. The day had come sooner than she then +anticipated, but Maddy was not as happy in possession of the coveted +ornaments as she had thought she should be. Somehow, it seemed to her +that Guy ought not to have given them to her, that it was improper for +her to keep them, and that both Mrs. Noah and Agnes thought so, too. +She wished she knew exactly what was right, and then, remembering that +Guy had said the doctor was expected early, she decided to ask his +opinion on the subject and abide by it. + +At first Agnes had cared but little about the party, affecting to +despise the people in their immediate neighborhood; but when Guy gave +her permission to invite from the adjoining towns, and even from +Worcester if she liked, her spirits arose; and when her toilet was +completed, she shone resplendent in lace and diamonds and curls, +managing to retain through all a certain simplicity of dress +appropriate to the hostess. But beautiful as Agnes was, she felt in her +jealous heart that there was about Maddy Clyde an attraction she did +not possess. Guy saw it, too, and while complimenting his pretty +mother-in-law, kept his eyes fixed admiringly on Maddy, who started him +into certain unpleasant remembrances by asking if the doctor had come +yet. + +“No—yes—there he was now,” and Guy looked into the hall, where the +doctor’s voice was heard inquiring for him. + +“I want to see him a minute, alone, please. There’s something I want to +ask him.” And, unmindful of Agnes’ darkening frown, or Guy’s look of +wonder, Maddy darted from the room, and ran hastily down the hall to +where the doctor stood, waiting for Guy, not for her. + +He had not expected to meet her thus, or to see her thus, and the sight +of her, grown so tall, so womanly, so stylish and so beautiful, almost +took his breath away. And yet, as he stood with her soft hand in his, +and surveyed her from head to foot, he felt that he would rather have +had her as she was when a dainty frill shaded her pale, wasted face, +when the snowy ruffle was fastened high about her throat, and the +cotton bands were buttoned about her wrists, where gold ones now were +shining. The doctor had never forgotten Maddy as she was then, the very +embodiment, he thought, of helpless purity. The little sick girl, so +dear to him then, was growing away from him now; and these adornings, +which marked the budding woman, seemed to remove her from him and place +her nearer to Guy, whose bride should wear silk and jewels, just as +Maddy did. + +She was very glad to see him, she said, asking in the same breath why +he had not been to the cottage, if she had not grown tall, and if he +thought her one bit improved with living in a city? + +“One question at a time, if you please,” he said, drawing her a little +more into the shadow of the door where they would be less observed by +any one passing through. + +Maddy did not wait for him to answer, so eager was she to unburden her +mind and know if she ought to keep the costly presents, at which she +knew he was looking. + +“If he remembers his unpaid bill, he must consider me mighty mean,” she +thought: and then, with her usual frankness, she told him of the +perplexity and asked his opinion. + +“It would displease Mr. Guy very much if I were to give them back,” she +said: “but it hardly is right for me to accept them, is it?” + +The doctor did not say she ought not to wear the ornaments, though he +longed to tear them from her arms and neck and throw them anywhere, he +cared not where, so they freed her wholly from Guy. + +They were very becoming, he said. She would not look as well without +them; so she had better wear them to-night, and to-morrow, if she would +grant him an interview, he would talk with her further. + +Dissembling doctor! He said all this to gain the desired interview with +Maddy, the interview for which Guy was to prepare her. That he had not +done so he felt assured, but he could not be angry with him, as he came +smilingly toward them, asking if they had talked privacy long enough, +and glancing rather curiously at Maddy’s face. There was nothing in its +expression to disturb him, and, offering her his arm, he led her back +to the drawing-rooms where Agnes was smoothing down the folds of her +dress, preparatory to receiving the guests just descending the stairs. +It was a brilliant scene which Aikenside presented that night, and amid +it all Agnes bore herself like a queen, while Jessie, with her sunny +face and golden hair, came in for a full share of attention. But amid +the gay throng there was none so fair or so beautiful as Maddy, who +deported herself with as much ease and grace as if she had all her life +long been accustomed to just such occasions as this. At a distance the +doctor watched her, telling several who she was, and once resenting by +both look and manner a remark made by Maria Cutler to the effect that +she was nobody but Mrs. Remington’s governess, a poor girl whom Guy had +taken a fancy to educate out of charity. + +“He seems very fond of his charity pupil, upon my word. He scarcely +leaves her neighborhood at all,” whispered old Mrs. Cutler, the mother +of Maria, who, Guy said, once fancied Dr. Holbrook, and who had no +particular objections to fancying him now, provided it could be +reciprocal. + +But the doctor was only intent on Maddy, knowing always just where she +was standing, just who was talking to her; and just how far from her +Guy was. He knew, too, when the latter was urging her to sing; and, +managing to get nearer, heard her object that no one cared to hear her. + +“But I do; I wish it,” Guy replied in that tone which people generally +obeyed; and casting a half-frightened look at the sea of faces around +her, Maddy suffered him to lead her to the piano, sitting quite still +while he found what he wished her to play. + +It was his favorite song, and one which brought out Maddy’s voice in +its various modulations. + +“Oh, please, Mr. Remington, anything but a song. I cannot sing,” Maddy +whispered pleadingly; but Guy answered resolutely, “You can.” + +There was no appeal after this, but a resigned, obedient look, which +made the doctor gnash his teeth as he leaned upon the instrument. What +right had Guy to command Maddy Clyde, and why should she obey? and yet, +as the doctor glanced at Guy, he felt that were he in Maddy’s place, he +should do the same. + +“No girl can resist Guy Remington,” he thought. “I’m glad there’s a +Lucy Atherstone over the sea.” And with a smile of encouragement for +Maddy, who was pale with nervous timidity, he listened while her sweet, +birdlike voice trembled for a moment with fear; and then, gaining from +its own sound, filled the room with melody, and made those who had +wandered off to other parts of the building hasten back to see who was +singing. + +Maria Cutler had presided at the piano earlier in the evening, as had +one or two other young ladies, but to none of these had Guy paid half +the attention he did to Maddy, staying constantly by her, holding her +fan, turning the leaves of music, and dictating what she should play. + +“There’s devotion,” tittered a miss in long ringlets; “but she really +does play well,” and she appealed to Maria Cutler, who answered, “Yes, +she keeps good time, and I should think might play for a dance. I mean +to ask her,” and going up to Guy she said, “I wish to speak to—to—well, +Jessie’s governess. Introduce me, please.” + +Guy waited till Maddy was through, and then gave the desired +introduction. In a tone not wholly free from superciliousness, Miss +Cutler said: + +“Can you play a waltz or polka, Miss Clyde? We are aching to exercise +our feet.” + +Maddy bowed and struck into a spirited waltz, which set many of the +people present to whirling in circles, and produced the result which +Maria so much desired, viz: it drove Guy away from the piano, for he +could not mistake her evident wish to have him as a partner, and with +his arm around her waist he was soon moving rapidly from that part of +the room, leaving only the doctor to watch Maddy’s fingers as they flew +over the keys. Maddy never thought of being tired. She enjoyed the +excitement, and was glad she could do something toward entertaining +Guy’s guests. But Guy did not forget her for an instant. Through all +the mazes of the giddy dance, he had her before his eye, seeing not the +clouds of lace and muslin encircled by his arm, but the little figure +in blue sitting so patiently at the piano until he knew she must be +tired, and determined to release her. As it chanced, Maria was again +his partner, and drawing her nearer to Maddy, he said, “Your fingers +ache by this time, I am sure. It is wrong to trouble you longer. Agnes +will take your place while you try a quadrille with me.” + +“Oh, thank you,” Maddy answered. “I am not tired in the least. I had as +lief play till morning, provided they are satisfied with my time and my +stock of music holds out.” + +“But it is not fair for one to do all the playing; besides, I want you +to dance with me—so consider yourself invited in due form to be my next +partner.” + +Maddy’s face crimsoned for an instant, and then in a low voice she +said, “I thank you, but I must decline.” + +“Maddy!” Guy exclaimed, in tones more indicative of reproach than +expostulation. + +There were tears in Maddy’s eyes, and Maria Cutler, watching her, was +vexed to see how beautiful was the expression of her face as she +answered frankly, “I have never told you that grandpa objected to my +taking dancing lessons when I wrote to him about it. He does not like +me to dance.” + +“A saint!” Maria uttered under her breath, smiling contemptuously as +she made a movement to leave the piano, hoping Guy would follow her. + +But he did not at once. Standing for a moment irresolute, while he +looked curiously at Maddy, he said at last: + +“Of course I interfere with no one’s scruples of that kind, but I +cannot allow you to wear yourself out for our amusement.” + +“I like to play—please let me,” was Maddy’s reply; and, as the set upon +the floor were waiting for her, she turned to the instrument, while Guy +mechanically offered his arm to Maria, and sauntered toward the green +room. + +“What a blue old ignoramus that grandfather must be, to object to +dancing, don’t you think so?” + +Maria laughed a little spitefully, secretly glad that Maddy had +refused, and secretly angry at Guy for seeming to care so much. + +“Say,” she continued, as Guy did not answer her, “don’t you think it a +sign that something is lacking in brains or education, when a person +sets up that dancing is wicked?” + +Guy would have taken Maddy’s side then, whatever he might have thought, +and he replied: + +“No lack of brains, certainly; though education and circumstances have +much to do with one’s views upon that subject. For my part, I like to +see people consistent. Now, that old ignoramus, as you call him, lays +great stress on pomp and vanities, and when I asked him once what he +meant by them, he mentioned dancing in particular as one of the things +which you, church people, promise to renounce;” and Guy bowed toward +Maria, who, knowing that she was one of the church people referred to, +winced perceptibly. + +“But this girl—this Maddy. There’s no reason why she should decline,” +she said; and Guy replied: “Respect for her grandfather, in her case, +seems to be stronger than respect for a higher power in some other +cases.” + +“It’s just as wicked to play for dancing as ’tis to dance,” Maria +remarked impatiently, while Guy rejoined: + +“That is very possible; but I presume Maddy has never seen it in that +light, which makes a difference;” and the two retraced their steps to +the rooms where the gay revelers were still tripping to Maddy’s +stirring music. + +After several ineffectual efforts Agnes had succeeded in enticing the +doctor away from the piano, and thus there was no one near to see how +at last the bright color began to fade from her cheeks as the notes +before her ran together, and the keys assumed the form of one huge key +which Maddy could not manage. There was a blur before her eyes, a +buzzing in her ears, and just as the dancers were entering heart and +soul into the merits of a popular polka, there was a sudden pause in +the music, a crash among the keys, and a faint cry, which to those +nearest to her sounded very much like “Mr. Guy,” as Maddy fell forward +with her face upon the piano. It was hard telling which carried her +from the room, the doctor or Guy, or which face of the three was the +whitest. Guy’s was the most frightened, for the doctor knew she had +only fainted, while Guy, struck with the marble rigidity of the face so +recently flushed with excitement, said at first, “She’s dead,” while +over him there flashed a feeling that life with Maddy dead would be +desolate indeed. But Maddy was not dead, and Guy, when he went back to +his guests carried the news that she had recovered from her faint, +which she kindly ascribed to the heat of the rooms, instead of fatigue +from playing so long. The doctor was with her and she was doing as well +as could be expected, he said, thinking within himself how he wished +they would go home, and wondering what attraction there was there, now +that Maddy’s place was vacant. Guy was a vastly miserable man by the +time the last guest had bidden him good-night, and he had heard for the +hundred-and-fiftieth time what a delightful evening it had been. +Politeness required that he should look to the very last as pleasant +and unconcerned as if upstairs there were no little sick girl, all +alone undoubtedly with Dr. Holbrook, whom he mentally styled a “lucky +dog,” in that he was not obliged to appear again in the parlors unless +he chose. + +The doctor knew Maddy did not require his presence after the first half +hour, but he insisted upon her being sent to bed, and then went +frequently to her door until assured by Mrs. Noah that she was sleeping +soundly, and would, if let alone, be well as ever on the morrow, a +prediction which proved true, for when at a late hour next morning the +family met at the breakfast table, Maddy’s was the brightest, freshest +face of the whole, not even excepting Jessie’s. Maddy, too, was +delighted with the party, declaring that nothing but pleasurable +excitement and heat had made her faint, and then with all the interest +which young girls usually attach to fainting fits, she asked how she +looked, how she acted, if she didn’t appear very ridiculous, and how +she got out of the room, saying the only thing she remembered after +falling was a sensation as if she were being torn in two. + +“That’s it,” cried Jessie, who readily volunteered the desired +information, “Brother Guy was ’way off with Maria Cutler, and doctor +was with mamma, but both ran, oh, so fast, and both tried to take you +up. I think Miss Cutler real hateful, for she said, so meanlike, ‘Do +you see them pull her, as if ’twas of the slightest consequence which +carried her out?’” + +“Jessie,” Guy interposed sternly, while the doctor looked +disapprovingly at the little girl, who subsided into silence after +saying, in an undertone, “I do think she’s hateful, and that isn’t all +she said either about Maddy.” + +It was rather uncomfortable at the table after that, and rather quiet, +too, as Maddy did not care to ask anything more concerning her faint, +while the others were not disposed to talk. + +Breakfast over, the two young men repaired to the library, where Guy +indulged in his cigar, while the doctor fidgeted for a time, and then +broke out abruptly: + +“I say, Guy, have you said anything to her about—well, about me, you +know?” + +“Why, no, I’ve hardly had a chance; and then, again, I concluded it +better for each one to speak for himself;” and carelessly knocking the +ashes from his half-smoked cigar, Guy leaned back in his chair, with +his eyes, and, to all appearance, thoughts, wholly intent upon the +curls of smoke rising above his head. + +“Guy, if you were not engaged, I should be tempted to think you wanted +Maddy Clyde yourself,” the doctor suddenly exclaimed, confronting Guy, +who, still watching the rings of smoke, answered with the most +provoking coolness, “You should?” + +“Yes, I should; and I am not certain but you do as it is, Guy,” and the +doctor grew very earnest in his manner, “if you do care for Maddy +Clyde, and she for you, pray tell me so before I make a fool of +myself.” + +“Doctor,” returned Guy, throwing the remains of his cigar into the +grate and folding his hands on his head, “you desire that I be frank, +and I will. I like Maddy Clyde very much—more indeed than any girl I +ever met—except Lucy. Had I never seen her—Lucy, I mean—I cannot tell +how I should feel toward Maddy. The chances are, however, that much as +I admire her, I should not make her my wife, even if she were willing. +But I have seen Lucy. I am engaged to be married. I shall keep that +engagement, and if you have feared me at all as a rival, you may fear +me no longer. I do not stand between you and Maddy Clyde.” + +Guy believed that he was saying the truth, notwithstanding that his +heart beat faster than its wont and his voice was a little thick. It +was doubtful whether he would marry Maddy Clyde, if he could. By nature +and education he was very proud, and the inmates of the red cottage +would have been an obstacle to be surmounted by his pride. He knew they +were good, far, far better than himself; but, from his earliest +remembrance, he had been taught that blood and family and position were +all-important; that by virtue of them Remington was a name of which to +be proud; that his father’s foolish marriage with a pretty governess +was the first misalliance ever known in the family, and that he was not +likely to follow that example was a point fully established in his own +mind. He might admire Maddy very much, and, perhaps, build castles of +what might possibly have been, had she been in his sphere of life; but, +should he verily think of making her his wife, the olden pride would +certainly come up a barrier between them. Guy could not explain all +this to the doctor, who would have been tempted to knock him down, if +he had; but he succeeded in quieting his fears, and even suggested +bringing Maddy in there, if the doctor wished to know his fate that +morning. + +“I hear her now—I’ll call her,” he said; and, opening the door, he +spoke to Maddy, just passing through the hall. “Dr. Holbrook wishes to +see you,” he said, as Maddy came up to him; and, holding the door for +her to enter, he saw her take the seat he had just vacated. Then, +closing it upon them, he walked away, thinking that last night’s party, +or something, had produced a bad effect on him, making him blue and +wretched, just as he should suppose a criminal would feel when about to +be executed. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. +THE DOCTOR AND MADDY. + + +Now that they were alone, the doctor’s courage forsook him, and he +could only stammer out some commonplace remarks about the party, asking +how Maddy Lad enjoyed it, and if she was sure she had entirely +recovered from the effects of her fainting fit. He was not getting on +at all, and it was impossible for him to say anything as he had meant +to say it. Why couldn’t she help him, instead of looking so +unsuspiciously at him with those large, bright eyes? Didn’t she know +how dear she was to him? He should think she might. She might have +divined it ere this; and if so, why didn’t she blush, or something? + +At last she came to his aid by saying, “You promised to tell me about +the bracelets and necklace, whether I ought to keep them.” + +“Yes, oh yes, he believed he did.” And getting up from his chair, the +doctor began to walk the floor, the better to hide his confusion. “Yes, +the bracelets. You looked very pretty in them, Maddy, very; but you are +always pretty—ahem—yes. If you were engaged to Guy, I should say it was +proper; but if not, why, I don’t know; the fact is, Maddy, I am not +quite certain what I am saying, so you must excuse me. I almost hated +you that day you sent the note, telling me you were coming to be +examined; but I had not seen you then. I did not know how, after a +while—a very little while—I should in all probability—well, I did; I +changed my mind, and I—I guess you have not the slightest idea what I +mean.” And stopping suddenly, he confronted the astonished Maddy, who +replied: + +“Not the slightest, unless you are going crazy.” + +She could in no other way account for his strange conduct, and she sat +staring at him while he continued: “I told you once that when I wanted +my bill I’d let you know. I’d ask for pay. I want it now. I present my +bill.” + +With a scared, miserable feeling, Maddy listened to him, wondering +where she should get the money, if it were possible for her grandfather +to raise it, and how much her entire wardrobe would bring, suppose she +should sell it! The bill had not troubled her latterly, for she had +fallen into a way of believing that the doctor would wait until she was +graduated and could earn it by teaching. Nothing could be more +inopportune than for him to present it now; and with a half-stifled sob +she began to speak, but he stopped her by a gesture, and sitting down +beside her, said, in a voice more natural than the one with which he +had at first addressed her: + +“Maddy, I know you have no money. It is not that I want, Maddy; I +want—I want—you.” + +He bent down over her now, for her face was hidden in her hands, all +sense of sight shut out, all sense of hearing, too, save the words he +was pouring into her ear—words which burned their way into her heart, +making It throb for a single moment with gratified pride, and then +growing heavy as lead as she knew how impossible it was for her to pay +the debt in the way which he desired. + +“I can’t, doctor; oh, I can’t!” she sobbed. “I never dreamed of this; +never supposed you could want me for your wife. I’m only a little +girl—only sixteen last October—but I’m so sorry for you, who have been +so kind. If I only could love you as you deserve! I do love you, too; +but not the way you mean. I cannot be Maddy Holbrook; no; doctor, I +cannot.” + +She was sobbing piteously, and in his concern for her the doctor forgot +somewhat the stunning blow he had received. + +“Don’t, Maddy darling!” he said, drawing her trembling form closely to +him, “Don’t be so distressed. I did not much think you’d tell me yes, +and I was a fool to ask you. I am too old; but, Maddy, Guy is as old as +I am.” + +The doctor did not know why he said this, unless in the first keenness +of his disappointment there was a satisfaction in telling her that the +objection to his age would apply also to Guy. But it did not affect +Maddy one whit, or give her the slightest inkling of his meaning. He +saw it did not, and the pain was less to bear. Still, he would know +certainly if he had a rival, and so he said to her: + +“Do you love some one else, Maddy? Is another preferred before me, and +is that the reason why you cannot love me?” + +“No,” Maddy answered, through her tears. “There is no one else. Whom +should I love, unless it were you? I know nobody but Guy.” + +That name touched a sore, aching chord in the doctor’s heart, but he +gave no sign of the jealousy which had troubled him, and for a moment +there was silence in the room; then, as the doctor began faintly to +realize that Maddy had refused him, there awoke within him a more +intense desire to win her than he had ever felt before. He would not +give her up without another effort, and laying her unresisting head +upon his bosom, he pleaded again for her love, going over all the past, +and telling of the interest awakened when first she came to him that +April afternoon, almost two years ago; then of the little sick girl who +had grown so into the heart never before affected in the least by +womankind, and lastly of the beautiful woman, as he called her, sitting +beside him now in all the freshness of her young womanhood. And Maddy, +as she listened, felt for him a strange kind of pity, a wish to do his +bidding if she only could, and why shouldn’t she? Girls had married +those whom they did not love, and been tolerably happy with them, too. +Perhaps she could be so with the doctor. There was everything about him +to respect, and much which she could love. Should she try? There was a +great lump in Maddy’s throat as she tried to speak, but it cleared away +and she said very sadly, but very earnestly, too: + +“Dr. Holbrook, would you like me to say yes with my lips, when all the +time there was something at my heart tugging to answer no?” + +This was not at all what Maddy meant to say, but the words were born of +her extreme truthfulness, and the doctor thus learned the nature of the +struggle which he saw plainly was going on. + +“No, Maddy, I would not have you say yes unless your heart was in it,” +he answered, while he tried to smile upon the tearful face looking up +so sorrowfully at him. + +But the smile was a forlorn one, and there came instead a tear as he +thought how dear was the fair creature who never would be his. Maddy +saw the tear, and as if she were a child wiped it from his cheek; then, +in tones which never faltered, she told him it might be in time she’d +learn to love him. She would try so hard, she’d think of him always as +her promised husband, and by that means should learn at last not to +shrink from taking him for such. It might be ever so long, and perhaps +she should be twenty or more, but some time in the future she should +feel differently. Was he satisfied, and would he wait? + +Her little hand was resting on his shoulder, but he did not mind its +soft pressure or know that it was there, so strong was the temptation +to accept that half-made promise. But the doctor was too noble, to +unselfish to bind Maddy to himself unless she were wholly willing, and +he said to her that if she did not love him now she probably never +would. She could not make a love. She need not try, as it would only +result in her own unhappiness. They would be friends just as they +always had been, and none need know of what had passed between them, +none but Guy. “I must tell him” the doctor said, “because he knows that +I was going to ask you.” + +Maddy could not explain why it was that she felt glad the doctor would +tell Guy. She did not analyze any of her feelings, or stop to ask why +she should care to have Guy Remington know the answer she had given Dr. +Holbrook. He was going to him now, she was sure, for he arose to leave +her, saying he might not see her again before she returned to New York. +She did not mention his bill. That was among the bygones, a thing never +again to be talked about, and offering him her hand, she looked for an +instant earnestly into his face, then without a word, hurried from the +room, while the doctor, with a sad, heavy heart, went in quest of Guy. + +“Refused you, did you say?” and Guy’s face certainly looked brighter +than it had before since he left the doctor with Maddy Clyde. + +“Yes, refused me, as I might have known she would,” was the doctor’s +reply, spoken so naturally that Guy looked up quickly to see if he +really did not care. + +But the expression of the face belied the calmness of the voice; and, +touched with genuine pity, Guy asked the cause of the +refusal—“preference for any one else, or what?” + +“No, there was no one whom she preferred. She merely did not like me +well enough to be my wife, that was all,” the doctor said, and then he +tried to talk of something else; but it would not do. The wound was yet +too fresh and sore to be covered up, and in spite of himself the +bearded chin quivered and the manly voice shook as he bade good-by to +Guy, and then went galloping down the avenue. + +Great was the consternation among the doctor’s patients when it was +known that their pet physician—the one in whose skill they had so much +confidence—was going to Europe, where in Paris he could perfect himself +in his profession. Some cried, and among them Agnes; some said he knew +enough already; some tried to dissuade him from his purpose; some +wondered at the sudden start, while only two knew exactly why he was +going—Guy and Maddy; the former approving his decision and lending his +influence to make his tour abroad as pleasant as possible; and the +latter weeping bitterly as she thought how she had sent him away, and +that if aught befell him on the sea or in that distant land, she would +be held amenable. Once there came over her the wild impulse to bid him +stay, to say that she would be his wife; but, ere the rash act was +done, Guy came down to the cottage, and Maddy’s resolution gave way at +once. + +It would be difficult to tell the exact nature of Maddy’s liking for +Guy at that time. Had he offered himself to her she would probably have +refused him even more promptly than she did the doctor; for, to all +intents and purposes, he was, in her estimation, the husband of Lucy +Atherstone. As such, there was no harm in making him her paragon of all +male excellence; and Guy would have felt flattered, could he have known +how much he was in that young girl’s thoughts. But now for a few days +he had a rival, for Maddy’s thoughts were all given to the doctor, who +came down to see her once before starting for Europe. She did not cry +while he was there, but her voice was strange and hoarse as she gave +him messages for Lucy Atherstone; and all that day her face was white +and sad, as are the faces of those who come back from burying their +dead. + +Only once after the party did she go up to Aikenside, and then, +summoning all her fortitude, she gave back to Guy the bracelets and the +necklace, telling him she ought not to wear them; that ornaments as +rich as these were not for her; that her grandmother did not wish her +to keep them, and he must take them back. Guy saw she was in earnest, +and much against his will he received again the ornaments he had been +so happy in purchasing. + +“They would do for Jessie when she was older,” Maddy said; but Guy +thought it very doubtful whether Jessie would ever have them. They were +something he had bought for Maddy, something she had worn, and as such +they were too sacred to be given to another. So he laid them away +beside the picture guarded so carefully from every one. + +Two weeks afterward Aikenside presented again a desolate, shut-up +appearance, for Agnes, Maddy and Jessie had returned to New York; Agnes +to continue the siege which, in despair of winning the doctor, she had +commenced against a rich old bachelor, who had a house on Madison +Square; and Maddy to her books, which ere long obliterated, in a +measure, the bitter memory of all that had transpired during her winter +vacation. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. +WOMANHOOD. + + +Two years pass quickly, particularly at school, and to Maddy Clyde, +talking with her companions of the coming holidays, it seemed hardly +possible that two whole years were gone since the eventful vacation +when Dr. Holbrook had so startled her by offering her his hand. He was +in Europe still, and another name than his was on the little office in +Mrs. Conner’s yard. To Maddy he now wrote frequently; friendly, +familiar letters, such as a brother might write, never referring to the +past, but telling her whatever he thought would interest and please +her. Occasionally at first, and more frequently afterward, he spoke of +Margaret Atherstone, Lucy’s younger sister, a brilliant, beautiful girl +who reminded him, he said, of Maddy, only she was saucier, and more of +a tease; not at all like Lucy, whom he described as something perfectly +angelic. Her twenty-fifth birthday found her on a sickbed, with Dr. +Holbrook in attendance, and this was the reason given why the marriage +between herself and Guy was again deferred. There had been many weeks +of pain, succeeded by long, weary months of languor, and during all +this time the doctor had been with her as the family physician, while +Margaret also had been constantly in attendance. But Lucy was much +better now. She could sit up all day, and even walk a little distance, +assisted by the doctor and Margaret, whose name had become to be almost +as familiar to Maddy as was that of Lucy. And Maddy, in thinking of +Margaret, sometimes wondered “if——” but never went any farther than +that. Neither did she ask Guy a word about her, though she knew he must +have seen her. She not say much to him of Lucy, but she wondered why he +did not go for her, and wanted to talk with him about it but he was so +changed that she dared not. He was not sociable, as of old, and Agnes +did not hesitate to call him cross, while Jessie complained that he +never walked or played with her now, but sat all day long in a deep +reverie of some kind. + +On this account Maddy did not look forward to the coming vacation as +joyfully as she would otherwise have done. Still it was, always +pleasant going home, and she sat talking with her young friends of all +they expected to do, when a servant entered the room and glancing over +the group of girls, singled Maddy out saying, as he placed an unsealed +envelope in her hand. “A telegram for Miss Clyde.” + +There was a blur before Maddy’s eyes, so that at first she could not +see clearly, and Jessie, climbing on the bench beside her, read aloud: + +“Your grandmother is dying. Come at once. Agnes and Jessie will stay +till next week. + + +“GUY REMINGTON.” + + +It was impossible to go that afternoon but with the earliest dawn she +was up, and unmindful of the snow falling so rapidly, started on the +sad journey home. It was the first genuine storm of the season, and it +seemed resolved on making amends for past neglect, sweeping in furious +gusts against the windows sifting down in thick masses from the leaden +sky, and so impeding the progress of the train that the chill wintery +night had closed gloomily in ere the Sommerville station was reached, +and Maddy, weary and dispirited, stepped out upon the platform, +glancing anxiously around for the usual omnibus, which she had little +hope would be there on such a night. If not, what should she do? This +had been the burden of her thoughts for the last few hours, for she +could not expect Guy to send out his horses in this fearful storm, much +less to be there himself. But Guy was there, and it was his voice which +first greeted her as she stood half blinded by the snow, uncertain what +she must do next. + +“Ah, Mr. Remington, I didn’t expect this. I am so glad, and how kind it +was of you to wait for me!” she exclaimed, her voice expressing her +delight, and amply repaying the young man, who had not been very +patient or happy through the six long hours of waiting he had endured. + +But he was both happy and patient now with Maddy’s hand in his, and +pressing it very gently he led her into the ladies’ room; then making +her sit down before the fire he brushed her snowy garments himself, and +dashing a few flakes from her disordered hair, told her what she so +eagerly asked to know. Her grandmother had had a paralytic stroke, and +the only word she had uttered since was “Maddy.” Guy had not been down +himself, but had sent Mrs. Noah as soon as Farmer Green had brought the +news. She was there yet, he said, the storm having prevented her +return. + +“And grandma?” Maddy gasped, fixing her eyes wistfully upon him. “You +do not think her dead?” + +No, Guy did not, and stooping he asked if he should not remove from the +dainty little feet resting on the stove hearth the overshoes, so full +of melting snow. Maddy cared little for her shoes, or herself just +then. She hardly knew that Guy was taking them off, much less that, as +he bent beside her, her hand lay lightly upon his shoulder as she +continued her questionings. + +“She is not dead, you say; but do you think-does any-body think she’ll +die? Your telegram said ‘dying.’” + +Maddy was not to be deceived, and thinking it best to be frank with +her, Guy told her that the physician, whom he had taken pains to see on +his way to the depot, had said there was no hope. Old age and an +impaired constitution precluded the possibility of recovery, but he +trusted she might live till the young lady came. + +“She must—she will! Oh, grandma, why did I ever leave her?” and burying +her face in her hands. Maddy cried passionately, while the last three +years of her Life passed in rapid review before her mind—years which +she had spent in luxurious ease, leaving her grandmother to toil in the +humble cottage, and die at the last, it might be, without one parting +word for her. + +The feeling that perhaps she had been guilty of neglect, was the +bitterest of all, and Maddy wept on, unmindful of Guy’s attempts to +soothe and quiet her. At last, as she heard a clock in the adjoining +room strike eight, she started up exclaiming “I have stayed too long. I +must go now. Is there any conveyance here?” + +“But, Maddy,” Guy rejoined, “you cannot go to-night. The roads between +here and Honedale are one unbroken snow bank. It would take hours to +break through; besides you are too tired. You need rest, and must come +with me to Aikenside, where you are expected, for when I found how late +the train would be, I sent back word to have your room and parlors +warmed, and a nice hot supper to be ready for us. You’ll surely go with +me, if I think best.” + +Guy’s manner was more like a lover than a friend, but Maddy was in no +state to remark it. She only felt an intense desire to go home, and +turning a deaf ear to all he could urge, replied: “You don’t know how +dear grandma is to me, or you would not ask me to stay. She’s all the +mother I ever knew, and I must go. Think, would you stay if the one you +loved best was dying?” + +“But the one I love best is not dying, so I can reason clearly, Maddy.” + +Here Guy checked himself, and listened while Maddy asked again if there +was no conveyance there as usual. + +“None but mine,” said Guy, while Maddy continued faintly: + +“And you are afraid it will kill your horses?” + +“No, it would only fatigue them greatly; it’s for you I fear. You’ve +borne enough to-day.” + +“Then, Mr. Remington, oh, please send me. I shall die at Aikenside. +John will drive me, I know. He used to like me. I’ll ask him,” and +Maddy was going in quest of the Aikenside coachman, when Guy held her +back, and said: + +“John will go if I bid him. But you, Maddy, if I thought it was safe.” + +“It is. Oh, let me go,” and Maddy grasped both his hands beseechingly. + +If there was a man who could resist the eloquent appeal of Maddy’s eyes +at that moment, the man was not Guy Remington, and leaving her alone, +he sought out John, asking if it would be possible to get through to +Homedale that night. + +John shook his head decidedly, but when Guy explained Maddy’s distress +and anxiety, the negro began to relent, particularly as he saw his +young master, too, was interested. + +“It’ll kill them horses,” he said, “but mabby that’s nothin’ to please +the girl.” + +“If we only had runners now, instead of wheels, John,” Guy said, after +a moment’s reflection. “Drive back to Aikenside as fast as possible, +and change the carriage for a covered sleigh. Leave the grays at home +and drive a pair of farm horses. They can endure more. Tell Flora to +send my traveling shawl. Miss Clyde may need it, and an extra buffalo, +and a bottle of wine, and my buckskin gloves, and take Tom on with you, +and a snow shovel; we may have to dig.” + +“Yes, yes, I know,” and tying his muffler about his throat, John +started off through the storm, his mind a confused medley of ideas, the +main points of which were, bottles of wine, snow shovels, and the fact +that his master was either crazy or in love. + +Meanwhile, with the prospect of going home, Maddy had grown quiet, and +did not refuse the temporary supper of buttered toast, muffins, steak +and hot coffee, which Guy ordered from the small hotel just in the rear +of the depot. Tired, nervous, and almost helpless, she allowed Guy +himself to prepare her coffee, taking it from his hand and drinking it +at his bidding as obediently as a child. There was a feeling of +delicious rest in being cared for thus, and but for the dying one at +Honedale she would have enjoyed it vastly. As it was, though, she never +for a moment forgot her grandmother. She did forget, in a measure, her +anxiety, and was able to think how kind, how exceedingly kind Guy was. +He was like what he used to be, she thought, only kinder, and thinking +it was because she was in trouble, she accepted all his little +attentions willingly, feeling how pleasant it was to have him there, +and thinking once with a half shudder of the long, cold ride before +her, when Guy would no longer be present, and also of the dreary home +where death might possibly be a guest ere she could reach it. + +It was after nine ere John appeared, his crisp wool powdered with snow +which clung to his outer garments, and literally covered his dark, +cloth cap. + +“’Twas mighty deep,” he said, bowing to Maddy, “and the wind was +getting colder. ’Twas a hard time Miss Clyde would have, and hadn’t she +better wait?” + +No, Maddy could not wait, and standing up she suffered Guy to wrap her +cloak about her, and fasten more securely the long, warm scarf she wore +around her neck. + +“Drive close to the platform,” he said to John, and the covered sleigh +was soon brought to the point designated. “Now then, Maddy, I won’t let +you run the risk of covering your feet with snow. I shall carry you +myself,” Guy said, and ere Maddy was fully aware of his intentions, he +had her in his arms, and was bearing her to the sleigh. + +Very carefully he drew the soft, warm robe about her, shielding her as +well as he could from the cold; then pulling his own fur collar about +his ears, he sprang in beside her, and, closing the door behind him, +bade John drive on. + +“But, Mr. Remington,” Maddy exclaimed in much surprise, “surely you are +not going too? You must not. It is asking too much. It is more than I +expected. Please don’t go.” “Would you rather I should not—that is, +aside from any inconvenience it may be to me—would you rather go +alone?” Guy asked, and Maddy replied: + +“Oh, no. I was dreading the long ride, but did not dream of your going. +You will shorten it so much.” “Then I shall be paid for going,” was +Guy’s response, as he drew still more closely around her the fancy +buffalo robe. + +The roads, though badly drifted in some places, were not as bad as Guy +had feared, and the strong horses kept steadily on; while Maddy, +growing more and more fatigued, at last fell away to sleep, and ceased +to answer Guy, For a time he watched her drooping head, and then +carefully drawing it to him, made it rest upon his shoulder, while he +wound his arm around her slight figure, and so supported her. He knew +she was sleeping quietly, by her gentle breathings; and once or twice +he involuntarily passed his hand caressingly over her soft, round +cheek, feeling the blood tingle to his finger tips as he thought of his +position there, with Maddy Clyde sleeping in his arms. What would Lucy +say, could she see him? And the doctor, with his strict ideas of right +and wrong, would he object? Guy did not know, and, with his usual +independence, he did not care. At least, he said to himself he did not +care; and so, banishing both the doctor and Lucy from his mind, he +abandoned himself to the happiness of the moment—a singular land of +happiness, inasmuch as it merely consisted in the fact that Maddy +Clyde’s young head was pillowed on his bosom, and that, by bending +down, he could feel her sweet breath on his face. Occasionally there +flitted across Guy’s mind a vague, uneasy consciousness that though the +act was, under the circumstances, well enough, the feelings which +prompted it were not such as either the doctor or Lucy would approve. +But they were far away; they would never know unless he told them, as +he probably should, of this ride on that wintry night; this ride, which +seemed to him so short that he scarcely believed his senses when, +without once having been overturned or called upon to use the shovels +so thoughtfully provided, the carriage suddenly came to a halt, and he +knew by the dim light shining through the low window that the red +cottage was reached. + +Grandma Markham was dying, but she knew Maddy, and the palsied lips +worked painfully as they attempted to utter the loved name; while her +wasted face lighted up with eager joy as Maddy’s arms were twined about +her neck, and she felt Maddy’s kisses on her cheek and brow. Could she +not speak? Would she never speak again, Maddy asked despairingly, and +her grandfather replied: “Never, most likely. The only thing she’s said +since the shock was to call your name; She’s missed you despatly this +winter back, more than ever before, I think. So have we all, but we +would not send for you—Mr. Guy said you was learning so fast.” “Oh, +grandpa, why didn’t you? I would have come so willingly,” and for an +instant Maddy’s eyes flashed reproachfully upon the recreant Guy, +standing aloof from the little group gathered about the bed, his arms +folded together, and a moody look upon his face. + +He was thinking of what had not yet entered Maddy’s mind, thinking of +the future—Maddy’s future, when the aged form upon the bed should be +gone, and the two comparatively helpless men be left alone. + +“But it shall not be. The sacrifice is far too great. I can prevent it, +and I will,” he muttered to himself, as he turned to watch the gray +dawn breaking in the east. Guy was a puzzle to himself. He would not +admit that during the past year his liking for Maddy Clyde had grown to +be something stronger than mere friendship, nor yet that his feelings +toward Lucy had undergone a change, prompting him not to go to her when +she was sick, and not to be as sorry as he ought that the marriage was +again deferred. Lucy had no suspicion of the change and her childlike +trust in him was the anchor which held him still true to her in +intentions at least, if not in reality. He knew from her letters how +much she had learned to like Maddy Clyde, and so, he argued, there was +no harm in his liking her too. She was a splendid girl, and it seemed a +pity that her lot should have been so humbly cast. This was usually the +drift of his thoughts in connection with her; and now, as he stood +there its that cottage, Maddy’s home, they recurred to him with tenfold +intensity, for well he foresaw that a struggle was before him if he +rescued Maddy as he meant to do from her approaching fate. + +No such thoughts, however, intruded themselves on Maddy’s mind. She did +not look away from the present, except it were at the past, in which +she feared she had erred by leaving her grandmother too much alone. But +to her passionate appeals for forgiveness, if she ever had neglected +the dying one, there came back only loving looks and mute caresses, the +aged hand smoothing lovingly the bowed head, or pressing fondly the +girlish cheeks where Guy’s hand had been. With the coming of daylight, +however, there was a change; and Maddy, listening intently, heard what +sounded like her name. The tied tongue was loosed for a little, and in +tones scarcely articulate, the disciple who for long years had served +her Heavenly Father faithfully, bore testimony to the blessed truth +that God’s promises to those who love Him are not mere promises—that He +will go with them through the river of death, disarming the fainting +soul of every fear, and making the dying bed the very gate of heaven. +This tribute to the Savior was her first thought, while the second was +a blessing for her darling, a charge to seek the narrow way now in +life’s early morning. Disjointed sentences they were, but Maddy +understood them all, treasuring up every word even to the last, the +words the farther apart and most painfully uttered, +“You—will—care—and—comfort——” She did not say whom, but Maddy knew whom +she meant; and without then realizing the magnitude of the act, +virtually accepted the burden from which Guy was so anxious to save +her. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. +THE BURDEN. + + +Grandma Markham was dead, and the covered sleigh, which late in the +afternoon plowed its way heavily back to Aikenside, carried only Mrs. +Noah, who, with her forehead tied up in knots, sat back among the +cushions, thinking not of the peaceful dead, gone forever to the rest +which remains for the people of God, but of the wayward Guy, who had +resisted all her efforts to persuade him to return with her, instead of +staying where he was, not needed, and where his presence was a +restraint to all save one, and that one Maddy, for whose sake he +stayed. + +“She’d be vummed,” the indignant old lady said, “if she would not write +to Lucy herself if Guy did not quit such doin’s,” and thus resolving +she kept on her way, while the subject of her wrath was, it may be, +more than half repenting of his decision to stay, inasmuch as he began +to have an unpleasant consciousness of himself being in everybody’s +way. + +In the first hour of Maddy’s bereavement he had not spoken with her, +but had kept himself aloof from the room where, with her grandfather +and Uncle Joseph, she sat, holding the poor aching head of the latter +in her lap and trying to speak a word of consolation to the old, +broken-hearted man, whose hand was grasped in hers. But Maddy knew he +was there. She could hear his voice each time he spoke to Mrs. Noah, +and that made the desolation easier to bear. She did not look forward +to the time when he would be gone; and when at last he told her he was +going, she started quickly, and with a gush of tears, exclaimed: “No, +no! oh, no!” + +“Maddy,” Guy whispered, bending over the strange trio, “would you +rather I should stay? Will it be pleasanter for you, if I do?” + +“Yes—I don’t know. I guess it would not be so lonely. Oh, it’s terrible +to have grandmother dead!” was Maddy’s response; after which Guy would +have stayed if a whole regiment of Mrs. Noah’s had confronted him +instead of one. + +Maddy wished it; that was reason enough for him; and giving a few +directions to John, he stayed, thereby disconcerting the neighboring +women who came in to perform the last offices for the dead, and who +wished the young man from Aikenside was anywhere but there, watching +them in all their movements, as they vainly fancied he did. But Guy +thought only of Maddy, watching her so carefully that more than one +meaning glance was exchanged between the women, who, even over the +inanimate form of the dead, spoke together of what might possibly +occur, wondering what would be the effect on Grandpa Markham and Uncle +Joseph. Who would take care of them? And then, in case Maddy should +feel it her duty to stay there, as they half hoped she would, they fell +to pitying the young girl, who seemed now so wholly unfitted for the +burden. + +To Maddy there came no definite idea of the future during the two days +that white, rigid form lay in the darkened cottage; but when, at last, +the deep grave made for Grandma Markham was occupied, and the lounge in +the little front room was empty—when the Aikenside carriage, which had +been sent down for the use of the mourners, had been driven away, +taking both Guy and Mrs. Noah—when the neighbors, too, had gone, +leaving only herself and the little hired girl sitting by the evening +fire, with the grandfather and the imbecile Uncle Joseph—then it was +that she first began to fed the pressure of the burden—began to ask +herself if she could live thus always, or at least for many years—as +long as either of the two helpless men were spared. Maddy was young, +and the world as she had seen it was very bright and fair, brighter far +than a life of laborious toil, and for a while the idea that the latter +alternative must be accepted made her dizzy and faint. + +As if divining her thoughts, poor old grandpa, in his prayers that +night, asked in trembling tones, which showed how much he felt what he +was saying, that God would guide his darling in all she did, and give +her wisdom to make the proper decision; that if it were best she might +be happy there with them, but if not, “Oh, Father, Father!” he sobbed, +“help me and Joseph to bear it.” He could pray no more aloud, and the +gray head remained bowed down upon his chair, while Uncle Joseph, in +his peculiar way, took up the theme, begging like a very child that +Maddy might be inclined to stay—that no young men with curling hair, a +diamond cross, and smell of musk, might be permitted to come near her +with enticing looks, but that she might stay as she was and die an old +maid forever! This was the subject of Uncle Joseph’s prayer, a prayer +which set the little hired girl to tittering, and would have wrung a +smile from Maddy herself had she not felt all the strange petition +implied. + +With waywardness natural to people in his condition, Uncle Joseph that +night turned to Maddy for the little services his sister had formerly +rendered, and which, since her illness, Grandpa Markham had done, and +would willingly do still. But Joseph refused to let him. Maddy must +untie his cravat, unbutton his vest, and take off his shoes, while, +after he was in bed, Maddy must sit by his side, holding his hand until +he fell away to sleep. And Maddy did it cheerfully, soothing him into +quiet, and keeping back her own choking sorrow for the sake of +comforting him. Then, when this task was done she sought her +grandfather, still sitting before the kitchen fire and evidently +waiting for her. The little hired girl had retired, and thus there was +no barrier to free conversation between them. + +“Maddy,” the old man said, “come sit close by me, where I can look into +your face, while we talk over what must be done.” + +With a half shudder, Maddy drew a stool to her grandfather’s feet, and +resting her head upon his knee, listened while he talked to her of the +future; told her all her grandmother had done; told of his own +helplessness; of the trial it was to care for Uncle Joseph, and then in +faltering tones asked who was going to look after them now. “We can’t +live here alone, Maddy. We can’t. We’re old and weak, and want some one +to lean on. Oh, why didn’t God take us with her, Joseph and me, and +that would leave you free, to go back to the school and the life which +I know is pleasanter than to stay here with us. Oh, Maddy! it comforts +me to look at you—to hear your voice, to know that though I don’t see +you every minute, you are somewhere, and by and by you’ll come in. I +shan’t live long, and maybe Joseph won’t. God’s promise is to them who +honor father and mother. It’ll be hard for you to stay, harder than it +was once; but, Maddy, oh, Maddy! stay with me, stay with me!—stay with +your old grandpa!” + +In his earnestness he grasped her arm, as if he thus would hold her, +while the tears rained over his wrinkled face. For a moment Maddy made +no response. She had no intention of leaving him, but the burden was +pressing heavily and her tongue refused to move. Maddy was then a +stranger to the religion which was sustaining her grandfather in his +great trouble, but the teachings of her childhood had not been in vain. +She was God’s covenant child. His protecting presence was over and +around her, moving her to the right. New York, with its gay sights, her +school, where in another year she was to graduate, the trip to the +Catskills which Guy had promised Mrs. Agnes, Jessie and herself, +Aikenside with its luxurious ease—all these must be given up, while, +worse than all the rest, Guy, too, must be given up. He would not come +there often; the place was not to his taste, and in time he would cease +to care for her as he cared for her now. “Oh, that would be dreadful!” +she groaned aloud, while here thoughts went backward to that night ride +in the snowstorm, and the numberless attentions he had paid her then. +She would never ride with him again—never; and Maddy moaned bitterly, +as she began to realize for the first time how much she liked Guy +Remington, and how the giving him up and his society was the hardest +part of all. But Maddy had a brave young heart, and at last, winding +her arms around her grandfather’s neck, she whispered: “I will not +leave you, grandpa. I’ll stay in grandmother’s place.” + +Surely Heaven would answer the blessings whispered over Maddy by the +delighted old man, and the young girl taking so cheerfully the burden +from which many would have shrunk, should be blessed by God. + +With her grandfather’s hand upon her head, Maddy could almost feel that +the blessing was descending; but when, in her own room, the one where +she had lain sick for so many weary weeks, her courage began to give +way, and the burden, magnified tenfold by her nervous weakness, looked +heavier than she could bear. How could she stay there, going through +each day with the same routine of literal drudgery—drudgery which would +not end until the two for whom she made the sacrifice were dead. + +“Oh, is there no way of escape, no help?” she moaned, as she tossed +from side to side, “Must my life be wasted here. Surely—-” + +Maddy did not finish the sentence, for something checked the words of +repining, and she seemed to hear again her grandfather’s voice as it +repeated the promise to those who keep with their whole souls the fifth +commandment. + +“I will, I will,” she cried, while into her heart there crept an +intense longing for the love of him who alone could make her task a +light one. “If I were good like grandma, I could bear everything,” she +thought, and turning upon her pillow, Maddy prayed an earnest, +childlike prayer, that God would help her do night, that He would take +from her the proud spirit which rebelled against her lot because of its +loneliness, that pride and love of her own ease and advancement in +preference to others’ good might all be subdued; in short that she +might be God’s child, walking where He appointed her to walk without a +murmur, and doing cheerfully His will. + +Aikenside, and school, and the Catskill Mountains were easier to +abandon after that contrite prayer; but when she thought of Guy, the +fiercest, sharpest pang she had ever felt shot through her heart, +making her cry out so quickly that the little hired girl who shared her +bed moved as if about to waken, but Maddy lay very quiet until all was +still again, when turning a second time to God she tried to pray, tried +to give up what to her was the dearest idol, but she could not say the +words, and ere she knew what she was doing she found herself asking +that Guy should not forsake her. “Let him come,” she sobbed, “let Guy +come some time to see me”. + +Once the tempter whispered to her, that had she accepted Dr. Holbrook +she would have been spared all this, but Maddy turned a deaf ear to +that suggestion. Dr. Holbrook was too noble a man to have an unloving +wife, and not for a moment did she repent of her decision with regard +to him. She almost knew he would say now that she was right in refusing +him, and right in staying there, as she must. Thoughts of the doctor +quieted her, she believed, not knowing that Heaven was already owning +its submissive child, and breathing upon it a soothing benediction. The +moan of the winter wind and the sound of the snow beating against her +little window ceased to annoy her. Heaven, happiness, Aikenside and +Guy, all seem blended into one great good just within her reach, and +when the long clock below the stairs struck three, she did not hear it, +but with the tear stains upon her face she lay nestled among her +pillows, dreaming that her grandmother had come back from the bright +world of glory to bless her darling child. + +It was broad noon ere Maddy awoke, and starting up she looked about her +in bewilderment, wondering where she was and what agency had been at +work in her room, transforming it from the cold, comfortless apartment +she had entered the previous night into the cheery-looking chamber, +with a warm fire blazing in the tiny fireplace, a rug spread down upon +the hearth, a rocking-chair drawn up before it, and all traces of the +little hired girl as completely obliterated as if she had never been. +In her grief Maddy seemed to have forgotten how to make things cozy, +and as, during her grandmother’s illness, her own room had been left to +the care of the hired girl, Nettie, it wore a neglected, rude aspect, +which had grated on Maddy’s finer feelings, and made everything so +uninviting. But this morning all was changed. Some skillful hand had +been busy there while she slept, and Maddy was wondering who it could +be, when the door opened cautiously and Flora’s good-humored face +looked in—Flora from Aikenside. Maddy knew now to whom she was indebted +for all this comfort, and with a cry of joy she welcomed the girl, +whose very presence brought back something of the life with which she +had parted forever. + +“Flora,” she exclaimed, “how came you here, and did you make this fire +and fix the room for me?” + +“Yes, I made the fire,” Flora replied, “and fixed up the things a +little, hustlin’ that young one’s goods out of here; because it was not +fittin’ for you to be sleepin’ with her. Mr. Guy was mad enough when he +found it out.” + +“Mr. Guy, Flora? How should he know of our sleeping ’rrangements?” +Maddy asked, but Flora evaded a direct reply, saying, “there was enough +ways for things to get to Aikenside;” then continuing, “How tired you +must be, Miss Maddy, to sleep so sound as never to hear me at all, +though to be sure I tried to be still as a mouse. But let me help you +dress. It’s all but noon, and you must be hungry. I’ve got your +breakfast all ready.” + +“Thank you, Flora, I can dress myself,” Maddy said, stepping out upon +the floor, and feeling that the world was not as dark as it had seemed +to her when last night she came up to her chamber. + +God was comforting her already, and as she made her simple toilet, she +tried to thank Him for His goodness, and ask for grace to make her what +she ought to be. + +“You have not yet told me why you came here,” she said to Flora, who +was busy making her bed, and who replied: “It’s Mr. Guy’s work. He +thought I’d better come, as you would need help to get things set to +rights, to could go back to school.” + +Maddy felt her heart coming up in her throat, but she answered calmly, +“Mr. Guy is very kind—so are you all; but, Flora, I am not going back +to school.” “Not going back!” and Flora stopped her bed-making, while +she stared blankly at Maddy. “What be you going to do?” “Stay here and +take care of grandpa,” Maddy said, bathing her face and neck in the +cold water, which could not cool the feverish heat she felt spreading +all over them. “Stay here! You are crazy, Miss Maddy! ’Tain’t no place +for a girl like you, and Mr. Guy never will suffer it, I know,” Flora +rejoined, as she resumed her work, thinking she “should die to be moped +up in that nutshell of a house.” With a little sigh as she foresaw the +opposition she should probably meet with from Guy, Maddy went on with +her toilet, which was soon completed, as it did not take long to +arrange the dark calico dress and plain linen collar which she wore. +She was not as fresh-looking as usual that morning, for excitement and +fatigue had lent a paleness to her cheek, and a languor to her whole +appearance, but Flora, who glanced anxiously after her as she went out, +muttered to herself, “She was never more beautiful, and I don’t wonder +an atom that Mr. Guy thinks so much of her.” The kitchen was in perfect +order, for Flora had been busy there as elsewhere. The kettle was +boiling on the stove, while two or three little covered dishes were +ranged upon the hearth, as if waiting for some one. Grandpa Markham had +gone out, but Uncle Joseph sat in his accustomed corner, rubbing his +hands when he saw Maddy, and nodding mysteriously toward the front +room, the door of which was open, so that Maddy could hear the fire +crackling on the hearth. + +“Go in, go in,” Uncle Joseph said, waving his hand in that direction. +“My Lord Governor is in there waiting for you. He won’t let me spit on +the floor any more as Martha did, and I’ve swallowed so much that I’m +almost choked.” + +Continual spitting was one of Uncle Joseph’s worst habits, and as his +sister had indulged him in it, it had become a source of great +annoyance both to Maddy, and to some one else of whose proximity Maddy +did not dream. Thinking that Uncle Joseph referred to her grandfather, +and feeling glad that the latter had attempted a reform, she entered +the room known at the cottage as the parlor, the one where the rag +carpet was, the six cane-seated chairs and the Boston rocker, and where +now the little round table was nicely laid for two, while cozily seated +in the rocking-chair, reading last night’s paper, and looking very +handsome and happy, was Guy! + +When Maddy prayed that he might come and see her she did not expect an +answer so soon, and she started back in much surprise, while Guy came +easily forward to greet her, asking how she was, once telling her she +looked tired and thin, then making her take the chair he had vacated, +he stood over her, smoothing her hair, while he continued: + +“I have taken some liberties, you see, and have made myself quite at +home. I knew how unaccustomed you were to the duties of a house, and as +I saw that girl was wholly incompetent, I denied myself at least two +hours’ sleep this morning for the sake of getting here early, bringing +Flora with me and a few things which I thought would be for your +comfort. You must excuse me, but Flora looked so cold when she came +down from your chamber, where I sent her to see how you were, that with +your grandfather’s permission I ordered a fire to be kindled there. I +hope you found it comfortable. This house is very cold.” + +He kept talking on, and Maddy in a delicious kind of bewilderment +listened to him, wondering if ever before there was a person so kind +and good as Guy. And really Guy was doing great violence to his pride +by being there as he was, but he could do anything for Maddy, and so he +had forced down his pride, trying for her sake to make the cottage as +pleasant as possible. With Flora to assist he had succeeded +wonderfully, and was really enjoying it himself. At first Maddy could +not thank him, her heart was so full, but Guy was satisfied with the +expression of her face, and calling Flora he bade her serve the +breakfast. + +“You know my habits,” he said, smilingly, as he took a seat at the +table, “and breakfasting at daylight, as I did, has given me an +appetite; so, with your permission, I’ll carve this nice bit of steak +for you, while you pour me a cup of coffee, some of Mrs. Noah’s best. +She”—Guy was going to say, “sent it,” but as no stretch of the +imagination could construe her “calling him a fool” into sending Maddy +coffee, he added instead, “I brought it from Aikenside, together with +this strawberry jelly, of which I remember you were fond;” and he +helped Maddy lavishly from the fanciful jelly jar which yesterday was +adorning the sweetmeat closet at Aikenside. + +How chatty and social he was, trying to cheer Maddy up and make her +forget that such a thing as death had so lately found entrance there; +talking of Jessie, of Aikenside, of the pleasant little time they would +have during the vacation, and of the next term at school, when Maddy, +as one of the graduating class, would not be kept in as strictly as +heretofore, but allowed to see more of the city. Maddy felt as if she +should die for the pain tugging at her heart, while she listened to him +and knew that the pictures he was drawing were not for her. Her place +was there; and after the breakfast was over and Flora had cleared the +dishes away, she shut the door, so that they might be alone, and then +standing before Guy, she told him of her resolution, begging of him to +help her and not make it harder to bear by devising means for her to +escape what she felt to be an imperative duty. Guy had expected +something like this and was prepared, as he thought, to combat all her +arguments; so when she had finished, he replied that of course he did +not wish to interfere with her duty, but there might be a question as +to what really was her duty, and it seemed to him he was better able to +judge of that than herself. It was not right for her to bury herself +there while her education was unfinished, when another could do as +well. Her superior talents were given to her to improve, and how could +she improve them in Honedale; besides her grandfather did not expect +her to stay. Guy had talked with him while she was asleep, and the +matter was all arranged; a competent woman was to be hired to take +charge of the domestic arrangements, and if it seemed desirable, two +should be procured; anything to leave Maddy free. + +“And grandpa consented to this willingly?” Maddy said, feeling a throb +of pleasure at thoughts of release. But Guy could not answer that the +grandfather consented willingly. + +“He thinks it best. When he comes back you can ask him yourself,” he +said, just as Uncle Joseph, opening the door, brought their interview +to a close by asking very meekly, “if it would please the Lord Governor +to let him spit!” + +The blood rushed at once to Maddy’s face, and she not repress a smile, +white Guy laughed aloud, saying to her softly: “For your sake, I tried +my skill to stop what I knew must annoy you. Pardon me if I did wrong;” +then turning to Uncle Joseph, he gave the desired permission, together +with the promise of a handsome spittoon, which should be sent down on +the morrow. With a bow Uncle Joseph turned away, muttering to himself, +“High doings now Martha’s gone; but new lords, new laws. I trust he’s +not going to live here;” and slyly he asked Flora if the Lord Governor +had brought his things! + +At this point Grandpa Markham came in, and to him Guy appealed at once +to know if he were not willing for Maddy to return to school. + +“I said she might if she thought best,” was the reply, spoken so sadly +that Maddy’s arms were at once twined around the old man’s neck, while +she said to him: + +“Tell me honestly which you prefer. I’d like so much to go to school, +but I am not sure I should be happy there, knowing how lonely you were +here at home. Say, grandpa, which would you rather now, honor bright?” +and Maddy tried to speak playfully, though her heart-beats were almost +audible as she waited for the answer. + +Grandpa could not deceive. He wanted his darling sorely, and he wanted +her to be happy, he said. Perhaps they would get on just as well +without her. When Mr. Guy was talking it looked as if they might, he +made it all so plain, but the sight of Maddy was a comfort. She was all +he had left. Maybe he shouldn’t live long to pester her, and if he +didn’t wouldn’t she always feel better for having stayed with her old +grandpa to the last? + +He looked very pale and thin, and his hair was white as snow. He could +not live many years, and turning resolutely from Guy, who, so long as +he held her eye, controlled her, Maddy said: + +“I’ve chosen once for all. I’ll stay with grandpa till he dies,” and +with a convulsive sob she clung tightly to his neck, as if fearful that +without such told on him her resolution would give way. + +It was in vain that Guy strove to change Maddy’s resolution. She was +wholly decided, and late in the afternoon he rode back to Aikenside, a +disappointed man, with, however, the feeling that Maddy had done right, +and that he respected her all the more for withstanding the temptation. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. +LIFE AT THE COTTAGE. + + +It was arranged that Flora should for the present at least remain at +the cottage, and Maddy accepted the kindness gratefully. She had become +so much accustomed to being cared for by Guy that she almost looked +upon it as a matter of course, and did not think of what others might +possibly say, but when, in as delicate a manner as possible Guy +suggested furnishing the cottage in better style, even proposing to +modernize it entirely in the spring, Maddy objected at once. “They were +already indebted to him for more than they could ever pay,” she said, +and she would not suffer it. So Guy submitted, though it grated upon +his sense of the beautiful and refined terribly, to see Maddy amid so +humble surroundings. Twice a week, and sometimes oftener, he rode down +to Honedale, and Maddy felt that without these visits life would hardly +have been endurable. + +During the vacation Jessie spent a part of the time with her, but Agnes +resolutely resisted all Guy’s entreaties that she would at least call +once on Maddy, who had expressed a wish to see her, and who, on account +of her grandfather’s health, and the childishness with which Uncle +Joseph clung to her, could not well come up to Aikenside. Agnes would +not go down, neither would she give other reason for her obstinacy than +the apparently foolish one that she did not wish to see the crazy man. +Still she did not object to Jessie’s going as often as she liked, and +she sent by her many little delicacies from the larder at Aikenside, +some for grandpa, but most for Uncle Joseph, who prized highly +everything coming from “the madam,” and sent back to her more than one +strangely worded message which made the proud woman’s eyes overflow +when sure that no one could see her. But this kind of intercourse came +to an end at last. The vacation was over, Jessie had gone back to +school, and Maddy began in sober earnest the new life before her. +Flora, it is true, relieved her of all household drudgery, but no one +could share the burden of care and anxiety pressing so heavily upon +her, anxiety for her grandfather, whose health seemed failing so fast, +and who always looked so disturbed if a shadow were resting on her +bright face, or her voice were less cheerful in its tone, and care for +the imbecile Joseph, who clung to her as a puny child clings to its +mother, refusing to be cared for by any one else, and often requiring +of her more than her strength could endure for a great length of time. +She it was who gave him his breakfast in the morning, amused him +through the day, and then, after he was in bed at night, often sat by +his side till a late hour, singing to him old songs, or telling Bible +stories until he fell away to sleep. Then if he awoke, as he frequently +did, there was a cry for Maddy, and the soothing process had to be +repeated, until the tired, pale watcher ceased to wonder that her +grandmother had died so suddenly, wondering rather that she had lived +so long and borne so much. + +Those were dark, wearisome days to Maddy, and the long, cold winter was +gone from the New England hills, and the early buds of spring were +coming up by the cottage door, the neighbors began to talk of the +change which had come over the young girl, once so full of life and +health, but now so languid and pale. Still Maddy was not unhappy, nor +was the discipline too severe, for by it she learned at last the great +object of life; learned to take her troubles and cares to One who +helped her bear them so cheerfully, that those who pitied her most +never dreamed how heavy was her burden, so patiently and sweetly she +bore it. Occasionally there came to her letters from the doctor, but +latterly they gave her less pleasure than pain, for as sure as she read +one of his kind, friendly messages of sympathy and remembrance, the +tempter whispered to her that though she did not love him as she ought +to love her husband, yet a life with him was far preferable to the life +she was living, and a receipt of his letters always gave her a pang +which lasted until Guy came down to see her, when it usually +disappeared. Agnes was now at Aikenside, and thus Maddy frequently had +Jessie at the cottage, but Agnes never came, and Maddy little guessed +how often the proud woman cried herself to sleep after listening to +Jessie’s recital of all Maddy had to do for the crazy man, and how +patiently she did it. He had taken a fancy that Maddy must tell him +stories of Sarah, describing her as she was now, not as she used to be +when he knew her, but now. “What is she now? How does she look? What +does she wear? Tell me, tell me!” he would plead, until Maddy, forced +to tell him something, and having distinctly in her mind but one +fashionable woman such as she fancied Sarah might be, told him of Agnes +Remington, describing her as she was in her mature beauty, with her +heavy flowing curls, her brilliant color, her flashing diamonds and +costly laces, and Uncle Joseph, listening to her with parted lips and +hushed breath, would whisper softly, “Yes, that’s Sarah, beautiful +Sarah; but tell me—does she ever think of me, or of that time in the +orchard when I wove the apple blossoms in her hair, where the diamonds +are now? She loved me then; she told me so. Does she know how sick, and +sorry, and foolish I am?—how the aching in my poor, simple brain is all +for her, and how you, Maddy, are doing for me what it is her place to +do? Had I a voice,” and the crazy man now grew excited, as, raising +himself in bed, he gesticulated wildly, “had I a voice to reach her, +I’d cry shame on her, to let you do her work, let you-wear your young +life and fresh, bright beauty all away for me, whom she ruined.” + +The voice he craved, or the echo of it, did reach her, for Jessie had +been present when the fancy first seized him to hear of Sarah, and in +the shadowy twilight she told her mother all, dwelling most upon the +touching sadness of his face when he said, “Does she know how sick and +sorry I am?” + +The pillow which Agnes pressed that night was wet with tears, while in +her heart was planted a germ of gratitude and respect for the young +girl doing her work for her. All that she could do for Maddy without +going directly to her, she did, devising many articles of comfort, +sending her fruit and flowers, the last new book, or whatever else she +thought might please her, and always finding a willing messenger in +Guy. He was miserable, and managed when at home to make others so +around him. The sight of Maddy bearing her burden so uncomplainingly +almost maddened him. Had she fretted or complained could bear it +better, he said, but he did not see the necessity for her to lose all +her spirit or interest in everything and everybody. Once when he hinted +as much to Maddy, he had been awed into silence by the subdued +expression of her face as she told him in part what it was which helped +her to bear and made the rough places so smooth. He had seen something +like this in Lucy, when paroxysms of pain were racking her delicate +frame, but he could not understand it; he only knew it was something he +could not touch—something against which his arguments beat helplessly, +and so, with an added respect for Maddy Clyde, he smothered his +impatience, and determining to help her all he could, rode down to +Honedale every day, instead of twice a week, as he had done before. + +Attentions so marked could not fail to be commented upon; and while +poor, unsuspecting Maddy was deriving so much comfort from his daily +visits, deeming that day very long which did not bring him to her, the +Honedale gossips, of which there were many, were busy with her affairs, +talking them over at their numerous tea-drinkings, discussing them in +the streets, and finally at a quilting, where they met in solemn +conclave, deciding, that, “for a girl like Maddy Clyde it did not look +well to have so much to do with that young Remington, who, everybody +knew, was engaged to a somebody in England.” + +“Yes, and would have been married long ago, if it wasn’t for this +foolin’ with Maddy,” chimed in Mrs. Joel Spike, throwing the chalk +across the quilt to her sister, Tripheny Marvel, who wondered if Maddy +thought he’d ever have her. + +“Of course he wouldn’t. He knew what he was about. He was not green +enough to marry Grandpa Markham’s daughter; and if she didn’t look out, +she’d get herself into a pretty scrape. It didn’t look well, anyhow, +for her to be putting on airs, as she had done ever since big folks +took her up, and she guessed she wouldn’t be beholden to nobody for her +larnin’.” + +All this and much more was discussed, and by the time the patchwork +thing was done, there remained but little to be said either for or +against Guy Remington and Maddy Clyde which had not been said by either +friend or foe. + +Among the invited guests at that quilting was the wife of Farmer Green, +Maddy’s warmest friend in Honedale, and the one who did her best to +defend her against the attacks of those whose remarks she well knew +were caused more by envy than any personal dislike to Maddy, who used +to be so much of a pet until her superior advantages separated her in a +measure from them. Good Mrs. Green was sorely tried. Without in the +least blaming Maddy, she, too, had been troubled at the frequency of +Guy’s Visits to the cottage. It was not friendship alone which took him +there, she was sure; and knowing that he was engaged, she feared for +Maddy’s happiness at first, and afterward, when people began to talk, +she feared for her good name. Something must be done, and though she +dreaded it greatly, she was the one to do it. Accordingly, next day she +started for the cottage, which Guy had just left, and this, in her +opinion, accounted for the bright color in Maddy’s cheek and the +sparkle in her eye. Guy had been there, bringing and leaving a world of +sunshine, but, alas, his chances for coming ever again as he had done +were fearfully small, when, at the close of Mrs. Green’s well-meant +visit, Maddy lay on her bed, her white, frightened face buried in the +pillows, and herself half wishing she had died before the last hour had +come, with the terrible awakening it had brought; awakening to the fact +that of all living beings, Guy Remington was the one she loved the +best—the one without whose presence it seemed to her she could not +live, but without which she now knew she must. + +With the best of intentions Mrs. Green had made a bungle of the whole +affair, but had succeeded in giving Maddy a general impression that +folks were talking awfully about Guy’s coming there, and doing for her +so much like an accepted lover, when everybody knew he was engaged, and +wouldn’t be likely to marry a poor girl if he wasn’t; that unless she +wanted to be ruined teetotally, and lose all her friends, she must +contrive to stop his visits, and not see him so much. + +“Yes, I’ll do anything, only please leave me now,” Maddy gasped, her +face as white as ashes and her eyes fixed pleadingly upon Mrs. Green, +who, having been young herself, guessed the truth, and, as she arose to +go, laid her motherly hand on Maddy’s head, saving kindly: + +“Poor child, it’s hard to bear now, but you’ll get over it in time.” + +“Get over it,” Maddy moaned, as she shut and bolted the door after Mrs. +Green, and then threw herself upon the bed, “I never shall till I die.” + +She almost felt that she was dying then, so desolate and so dreary the +future looked to her. What was life worth without Guy, and why had she +been thrown so much in his way; why permitted to love him as she knew +she did, if she must lose him now? Maddy could not cry; there was a +tightness about her eyes, and a keen, cutting pain about her heart as +she tried to pray for strength to do what was right—strength to cast +Guy Remington from her heart where it was a sin for him to be; and then +she asked to be forgiven for the wrong she had unwittingly done to Lucy +Atherstone, who trusted implicitly, and who, in her last letter, had +said: + +“If I had not so much faith in Guy I should be jealous of one who has +so many opportunities for stealing his heart from me. But I trust you, +Maddy Clyde. You would not do a thing to harm me, I am sure, and to +lose Guy now, after these years of cruel waiting, would kill me.” + +Sweet Lucy, there was in her heart a faint stirring of fear lest Maddy +Clyde might be a shadow in her pathway, else she had never written that +to her. But Lucy’s cause was safe in Maddy’s hands. Always too +high-souled to do a treacherous act, she was now sustained by another +and holier principle, which of itself would have kept her from the +wrong. But for a few moments Maddy abandoned herself to the bliss of +fancying what it would be to be loved by Guy Remington, even as she +loved him. And as she thought, there crept into her heart the certainty +that in some degree he did love her; that his friendship was more than +a mere liking for the girl to whom he had been so kind. In Lucy’s +absence she was essential to his happiness, and that was why he sought +her society so much. Remembering everything that had passed, but more +particularly the incidents of that memorable night ride to Honedale +with all that had followed since, she could not doubt it, and softly to +herself she whispered, “He loves me, he loves me,” while little throbs +of joy beat all over her heart; but only for an instant, and then the +note of joy was changed to sorrow as she thought how she must +henceforth seek to kill that love, both for her own sake and Lucy’s. +Guy must not come there any more. She could not bear it now, even if +the neighbors had never meddled with her. She could not see him as she +had done, and not betray her real feelings toward him. He had been +there that day; he would come again tomorrow. She could see him now +just as he would look coming up the walk, easy and self-possessed, +confident of his reception, his handsome face beaming all over with +kind thoughtfulness for her, and his voice full of tender concern as he +asked how she was, and bade Flora see that she did not overtax herself, +and all this must cease. She had seen it, heard it for the last time. +No wonder that Maddy’s heart fainted within her, as she thought how +desolate, how dreary would be the days when Guy no longer came. But the +victory was gained at last, and strength imparted for the task she had +to do. + +Going to the table she opened her portfolio, the gift of Guy, and with +her gold pen, also his gift, wrote to him what the neighbors were +saying, and that he must come there no more; at least, only once in a +great while, because if he did, she could not see him. Then, when this +was written, she went down to Uncle Joseph, beginning to call for her, +and sat by him as usual, singing to him the songs he loved so well, and +which this night pleased him especially, because the voice which sang +them was so plaintive, so full of woe. Would he never go to sleep, or +the hand which held hers so firmly relax its hold? Never, it seemed to +Maddy, who sat and sang, while the night-bird on a distant tree, +awakened by the low song, uttered a responsive note, and the hours +crept on to midnight. Human nature could endure no more, and when the +crazy man said to her, “Now sing of Him who died on Calvary,” Maddy’s +answer was a gaping cry as she fell fainting on the pillow. + +“It was only a nervous headache,” she said to the frightened Flora, who +came at Uncle Joseph’s call, and helped her young mistress up to bed. +“She should be better in the morning, and she would rather be alone.” + +So Flora left her there, but went often to her door, until assured by +the low breathing sound that Maddy was sleeping at last. It was a heavy +sleep, and when Maddy awakened from it the pain in her temples was +there still; she could not rise, and half glad that she could not, +inasmuch as her illness would be a reason why she could not see Guy if +he came. She did not know he was here already, until she heard his +voice speaking to her grandfather. It was later than she imagined, and +he had ridden down early because he could not stay away. + +“I can’t see him, Flora,” Maddy said, when the latter came up with the +message that Mr. Remington was there with his buggy, and asked if a +little ride would not do her good. “I can’t see him, but give him +this,” and she placed in Flora’s hand the note, baptized with so many +tears and prayers, and the contents of which made Guy furious; not at +her, but at the neighbors, the inquisitive, envious, ignorant, +meddlesome neighbors, who had dared to talk of him, or to breathe a +suspicious word against Maddy Clyde. He would see; he would make them +sorry for it; they should take back every word; and they should beg +Maddy’s forgiveness for the pain they had caused her. + +All this, and much more, Guy thought, as with Maddy’s note in his hand +he walked up and down the sitting-room, raging like a young lion, and +threatening vengeance upon everybody. This was not the first intimation +Guy had received of the people’s gossip, for only that morning Mrs. +Noah had hinted that his course was not at all calculated to do Maddy +any good, while Agnes had repeated to him some things which she had +heard touching the frequency of his visits to Honedale; but these were +nothing to the calmly worded message which banished him effectually +from Maddy’s presence. He knew Maddy, and he knew, she meant what she +wrote, but he could not have it so. He must see her; he would see her; +and so for the next half hour Flora was the bearer of written messages +to and from Maddy’s room; messages of earnest entreaty on the one hand, +and of firm denial on the other. At last Maddy wrote: + +“If you care for me in the least, or for my respect, leave me, and do +not come again until I send for you. I am not insensible to your +kindness. I feel it all; but the world is nearer right than you +suppose. It does not look well for you to come here so much, and I +prefer that you should not. Justice to Lucy requires that you stay +away.” + +That ended it! That roused up Guy’s pride, and writing back: + +“You shall be obeyed. Good-by.” He sprang into his buggy, and Maddy, +listening, with head and heart throbbing alike, heard him as he drove +furiously away. + +Those were long, dreary days which followed, and but for her +grandfather’s increasing feebleness Maddy would almost have died. +Anxiety for him, however, kept her from dwelling too much upon herself, +but the excitement and the care wore upon her sadly, robbing her eye of +its luster and her cheek of its remaining bloom, making even Mrs. Noah +cry when she came one day with Jessie to see how they were getting on. +She had heard from Guy of his banishment, and now that he stayed away, +she was ready to step in; so she came, laden with sympathy and other +more substantial comforts brought from the Aikenside larder. + +Maddy was glad to see her, and for a time cried softly on her bosom, +while Mrs. Noah’s tears kept company with hers. Not a word was said of +Guy, except when Jessie told her he was gone to Boston, and it was so +stupid at home without him. + +With more than her ordinary discretion, Flora kept to herself what had +passed when Guy was last there, so Mrs. Noah knew nothing except what +he had told her, and what she read in Maddy’s white, suffering face. +This last was enough to excite all her pity, and she treated the young +girl with the most motherly kindness, staying all night, and herself +taking care of grandpa, who was now too ill to sit up. There seemed to +be no disease preying upon him, nothing save old age, and the loss of +one who for more than forty years had shared all his joy and sorrow. He +could not live without her, and one night, three weeks after Guy’s +dismissal, he said to Maddy, as she was about to leave him: + +“Sit with me, darling, for a little while, if you are not too tired. +Your grandmother seems near me to-night, and so does Alice, your +mother. Maybe I’ll be with them before another day. I hope I may if God +is willing, and there’s much I would say to you.” + +He was very pale, and the great sweat drops stood on his forehead and +under his white hair, but Maddy wiped them away and listened with a +breaking heart while the aged disciple almost home told her of the +peace, the joy, that shone around his pathway to the tomb, and of the +everlasting arm bearing him so gently over Jordan. Then he talked of +herself, blessing her for all she had been to him, telling her how +happy she had made his life since she came home to stay, and how for a +time he had ached so with fear lest she should choose to go back and +leave him to a stranger. “But my darling stayed with her old grandpa. +She’ll never be sorry for it, never. I’ve tried you sometimes, I know, +for old folks ain’t like young; but I’m sorry, Maddy, and you’ll forget +it when I’m gone, darling Maddy, precious child;” and the trembling +hand rested caressingly on her bowed head as grandpa went on to speak +of his affairs, his little property which was hers after the mortgage +to Mr. Guy was paid. “I’ve kept up the interest,” he said, “but I could +never get him to take any of the principal. I don’t know why he is so +good to me. Tell him, Maddy, how I thanked and blessed him just before +I died; tell him how I used to pray for him every day that he might +choose the better part. And he will—I’m sure he will, some day. He +hasn’t been here of late, and though my old eyes are dim, I can see +that your step has got slow, and your face whiter by many shades, since +he stayed away. Maddy, child, the dead tell no secrets, and I shall +soon be dead. Tell me, then, what it is between you two. Does my girl +love Mr. Guy?” + +“Oh, grandpa! grandpa!” Maddy moaned, laying her head beside his own on +the pillow. + +It would be a relief to talk with some one of that terrible pain, which +grew worse every day; of that intense longing just for one sight of the +beloved one; of Guy, still absent from Aikenside, wandering nobody knew +where; and so Maddy told the whole story, while the dying man listened +to her, and smoothing her silken hair, tried to comfort her. + +“The worst is not over yet,” he said. “Guy will offer to make you his +wife, sacrificing Lucy for you, and if he does, what will my darling +do?” + +Maddy’s heart leaped up into her throat, and for a moment prevented her +from answering, for the thought of Guy’s really offering to make her +his wife, to shield her from evil, to enfold her in his tender love, +made her giddy with joy. But it could not be, and she answered through +her tears: + +“I shall tell him no.” + +“God bless my Maddy! She will tell him no for Lucy’s sake, and God will +bring it right at last,” the old man whispered, his voice growing very +faint and tremulous. “She will tell him no,” he kept repeating, until, +rousing up to greater consciousness, he spoke of Uncle Joseph, and +asked what Maddy would do with him; would she send him back to the +asylum, or care for him there? “He will be happier here,” he said, “but +it is asking too much of a young girl like you. He may live for years.” + +“I do not know, grandpa. I hope I may do right. I think I shall keep +Uncle Joseph with me,” Maddy replied, a shudder creeping over her as +she thought of living out all her youth and possibly middle age with a +lunatic. + +But her grandfather’s whispered blessings brought comfort with them, +and a calm quiet fell upon her as she sat there listening to the words +of prayer, and catching now and then her own name and that of Guy’s. + +“I am drowsy, Maddy. Watch while I sleep. Perhaps I’ll never wake +again,” grandpa said, and clasping Maddy’s hands he fell away to sleep, +while Maddy kept her watch beside him, herself falling into a troubled +sleep, from which she was aroused by a clammy hand pressing on her +forehead, and Uncle Joseph’s voice, which said: “Wake, my child. +There’s been a guest here while you slumbered,” and he pointed to the +rigid features of the newly dead. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. +THE BURDEN GROWS HEAVIER. + + +Of the days which followed, Maddy had no distinct consciousness. She +only knew that other hands than hers cared for the dead, that in the +little parlor a stiff, white figure lay, that neighboring women stole +in, treading on tiptoe, and speaking in hushed voices as they +consulted, not her, but Mrs. Noah, who had come at once, and cared for +her and hers so kindly. That she lay all day in her own room, where the +summer breeze blew softly through the window, bringing the perfume of +summer flowers, the sound of a tolling bell, of grinding wheels, the +notes of a low, sad hymn, sung in faltering tones, and of many feet +moving from the door. Then friendly faces looked in upon her, asking +how she felt, and whispering ominously to each other as she answered: + +“Very well; is grandpa getting better?” + +Then Mrs. Noah sat with her for a time, fanning her with a palm-leaf +fan and brushing the flies away. Then Flora came up with a man whom +they called “Doctor,” and who gave his sundry little pills and powders +dissolved in water, after which they all went out and left her there +with Jessie who had been crying, and whose soft little hands felt so +cool on her hot head, and whose kisses on her lips made the tears +start, and brought a thought of Guy, making her ask, “if he was at the +funeral.” She did not know whose funeral, or why she used that word, +only it seemed to her that Jessie just came back from somebody’s grave, +and she asked if Guy was there. “No,” Jessie said; “mother wanted to +write and tell him, but we don’t know where he is.” + +And this was all Maddy could recall of the days succeeding the night of +her last watch at her grandfather’s side, until one balmy August +afternoon, when on the Honedale hills there lay that smoky haze so like +the autumn time hurrying on apace, and when through her open window +stole the fragrance of the later summer flowers. Then, as if waking +from an ordinary sleep, she woke suddenly to consciousness, and staring +about the room, wondered if it were as late as the western sun would +indicate, and how she came to sleep so long. For a while she lay +thinking, and as she thought, a sad scene came back to her, a night +when her hot hands had been enfolded in those of the dead, and that +dead her grandfather. Was it true, or was she laboring under some +hallucination of the brain? If true, was that white, placid face still +to be seen in the room below, or had they burial him from her sight? +She would know, and with a strange kind of nervous strength she arose, +and throwing on the wrapper and slippers which lay near, descended the +stairs, wondering to find herself so weak, and half shuddering at the +deep stillness of the house; stillness broken only by the ticking of +the clock and the purring of the house cat, which at sight of Maddy +arose from its position near the door and came forward, rubbing its +sides against her dress, and trying in various ways to evince its joy +at seeing one whose caresses it had missed so long. The little bedroom +off the kitchen where grandpa slept and died was vacant; the old +fashioned coat was put away, as was every vestige of the old man save +the broad-rimmed hat which hung upon the wall just where his hands had +hung it, and which looked so much like its owner that with a gush of +tears Maddy sank upon the bed, moaning to herself, “Yes, grandpa is +dead. I remember now. But Uncle Joseph, where is he? Can he too have +died without my knowledge? and she looked round in vain for the +lunatic, not a trace of whom was to be found. His room was in perfect +order, as was everything about the house, showing that Flora was still +the domestic goddess, while Maddy detected also various things which +she recognized as having come from Aikenside. Who sent them? Did Guy, +and had he been there too while she was sick? The thought brought a +throb of joy to Maddy’s heart, but it soon passed away as she began +again to wonder if Uncle Joseph too had died, and where Flora was. It +was not far to the Honedale burying ground. Maddy could see the +headstones from where she sat gleaming through the August sunlight; +could discern her mother’s, and knew that two fresh mounds at least +were made beside it. But were there three? Was Uncle Joseph there? By +stealing across the meadow in the rear of the house the distance to the +graveyard was shortened more than half, and could not be more than the +eighth part of a mile, She could walk so far, she knew. The fresh air +would do her good, and hunting up her long unused flat, the impatient +girl started, stopping once or twice to rest as a dizzy faintness came +over her, and then continuing on until the spot she sought was reached, +Three graves, one old and sunken, one made when the last winter’s snow +was on the hills, the other fresh and new. That was all, Uncle Joseph +was not there, and vague terror entered Maddy’s heart lest he had been +taken back to the asylum. + +“I will get him out,” she said; “I will take care of him. I should die +with nothing to do; and I promised grandpa——” + +She could get no farther, for the rush of memories which came over her, +and seating herself upon the ground close to the new grave, she laid +her face upon it, and sobbed piteously: + +“Oh, grandpa. I’m so lonely without you all; I almost wish I was lying +here in the quiet yard.” + +Then a storm of tears ensued, after which Maddy grew calm, and with her +head still bent low, did not hear the rapid step approaching, the manly +step coming down the grassy road, coming past the marble tombstones, on +to where that wasted figure was crouching upon the ground. There it +stopped, and in a half whisper called, “Maddy! Maddy!” Then indeed she +started, and lifting up her head saw before her Guy Remington. For a +moment she regarded him intently while he said to her, oh so kindly, so +pityingly. + +“Poor child, you have suffered so much, and I never knew of it till a +few days ago.” + +At the sound of that loved voice speaking thus to her, everything else +was forgotten, and with a cry of joy Maddy stretched her hands toward +him, moaning out: + +“Oh, Guy, Guy, where have you been, when I wanted you so much?” + +Maddy did not know what she was saying, or half comprehend the effect +it had on Guy, who forgot everything save that she wanted him, had +missed him, had turned to him in her trouble, and it was not in his +nature to resist her appeal. With a spring he was at her side, and +lifting her in his arms seated himself upon her mother’s grave; then +straining her tightly to his bosom, he kissed her again and again. Hot, +burning, passionate kisses they were, which took from Maddy all power +of resistance, even had she wished it, which she did not. Too weak to +reason, or see the harm, if harm there were, in being loved by Guy, she +abandoned herself for a brief interval to the bliss of knowing that she +was beloved, and of hearing him tell her so. + +“Darling Maddy,” he said, “I went away because you sent me, but now I +have come back, and nothing shall part us again. You are mine; I claim +you here at your mother’s grave. Precious Maddy, I did not know of all +this till three days ago, when Agnes’ letter found me almost at the +Rocky Mountains. I traveled day and night, reaching Aikenside this +morning, and coming straight to Honedale. I wish I had come before, now +that I know you wanted me. Say that again, Maddy. Tell me again that +you missed and wanted me.” + +He was smoothing her hair now, as her head still lay pillowed upon his +breast, so he could not see the spasm of pain which contorted her +features as he thus appealed to her. Half bewildered, Maddy could not +at first make out whether it were a blissful dream or a reality, her +lying there in Guy’s arms with his kisses on her forehead, lips and +cheek, his words of devotion in her ear, and the soft summer sky +smiling down upon her. Alas, it was a dream from which she was awakened +by the thought of one across the sea, whose place she had usurped, and +this it was which brought the grieved expression to her face as she +answered mournfully: + +“I did want you, Guy, when I forgot; but now—oh, Guy—Lucy Atherstone!” + +With a gesture of impatience Guy was about to answer, when something in +the heavy fall of the little hand from his shoulder alarmed him, and +lifting up the drooping head he saw that Maddy had fainted. Then back +across the meadow Guy bore her to the cottage, where Flora, just +returned from a neighbor’s, whither she had gone upon an errand, was +looking for her in much affright, and wondering who had come from +Aikenside with that wet, tired horse, showing so plainly how hard it +had been driven. + +Up again into her little chamber Maddy was carried and laid upon the +bed, which she never left until the golden harvest sheaves were +gathered in, and the hot September sun was ripening the fruits of +autumn. But now she had a new nurse, a constant attendant, who during +the day seldom left her except to talk with and amuse Uncle Joseph, +mourning below because no one sang to him or noticed him as Maddy used +to do. He had not been sent to the asylum, as Maddy feared, but by way +of relieving Flora had been taken to Farmer Green’s, where he was so +homesick and discontented that at Guy’s instigation he was suffered to +return to the cottage, crying like a little child when the old familiar +spot was reached, kissing his armchair, the cook-stove, the tongs, Mrs. +Noah and Flora, and timidly offering to kiss the Lord Governor himself, +as he persisted in calling Guy, who declined the honor, but listened +quietly to the crazy man’s promise “not to spit the smallest kind of a +spit on the floor, or anywhere, except in its proper place.” + +Guy had passed through several states of mind during the interval in +which we have seen so little of him. Furious at one time, and reckless +as to consequences, he had determined to break with Lucy and marry +Maddy, in spite of everybody; then, as a sense of honor came over him, +he resolved to forget Maddy, if possible, and marry Lucy at once. It +was in this last mood, and while roaming over the Western country, +whither after his banishment he had gone, that he wrote to Lucy a +strange kind of letter, saying he had waited for her long enough, and +sick or well he should claim her the coming autumn. To this letter Lucy +had responded quickly, sweetly reproving Guy for his impatience, softly +hinting that latterly he had been quite as culpable as herself in the +matter of deferring their union and appointing the bridal day for +the—of December. After this was settled Guy felt better, though the old +sore spot in his heart, where Maddy Clyde had been, was very sore +still, and sometimes it required all his powers of self-control to keep +from writing to Lucy and asking to be released from an engagement so +irksome as his had become. Neglecting to answer Agnes’ letters when he +first left home, she did not know where he was until a short time +before, when she wrote apprising him of grandpa’s death and Maddy’s +severe illness. This brought him, while Maddy’s involuntary outburst +when she met him in the graveyard, changed the whole current of his +intentions. Let what would come, Maddy Clyde should be his wife and as +such he watched over her, nursing her back to life, and by his manner +effectually silencing all remark, so that the neighbors whispered among +themselves what Maddy’s prospects were, and, as was quite natural, were +a very little more attentive to the future lady of Aikenside. Poor +Maddy! it was a terrible trial which awaited her, but it must be met, +and so with prayers and tears she fortified herself to meet it, while +Guy, the devoted lover, hung over her, never guessing of all that was +passing in her mind, or how, when he was out of sight, the lips he had +longed so much to kiss, but never had since that day in the graveyard, +quivered with anguish as they asked for strength to do right. Oh, how +Maddy did love the man she must give up, and how often went up the +wailing cry, “Help me, Father, to do my duty, and give me, too, a +greater inclination to do it than I now possess.” + +Maddy’s heart did fail her sometimes, and she might have yielded to the +temptation but for Lucy’s letter, full of eager anticipations of the +time when she should see Guy never to part again. + +“Sometimes,” she wrote, “there comes over me a dark foreboding of +evil—a fear that I shall miss the cup now within my reach; but I pray +the bad feelings away. I am sure there is no living being who will come +between us to break my heart, and as I know God doeth all things well, +I trust Him wholly, and cease to doubt.” + +It was well the letter came when it did, as it helped Maddy to meet the +hour she so much dreaded, and which came at last on an afternoon when +Mrs. Noah had gone to Aikenside, and Flora had gone on an errand to a +neighbor’s, two miles away, thus leaving Guy free to tell the story, +the old, old story, yet always new to him who tells it and her who +listens—story which, as Guy told it, sitting by Maddy’s side, with her +hands in his, thrilled her through and through, making the sweat drops +start out around her lips and underneath her hair—story which made Guy +himself pant nervously and tremble like a leaf, so earnestly he told +it; told how long he had loved her, of the picture withheld, the +jealousy he felt each time the doctor named her, the selfish joy he +experienced when he heard the doctor was refused; told of his growing +dissatisfaction with his engagement, his frequent resolves to break it, +his final decision, which that scene in the graveyard had reversed, and +then asked if she would not be his—not doubtfully, but confidently, +eagerly, as if sure of her answer. + +Alas for Guy! he could not believe he heard aright when, turning her +head away for a moment while she prayed for strength, Maddy’s answer +came, “I cannot, Guy, I cannot. I acknowledge the love which has stolen +upon me, I know not how, but I cannot do this wrong to Lucy. Away from +me you will love her again. You must. Read this, Guy, then say if you +can desert her.” + +She placed Lucy’s letter in his hand, and Guy read it with a heart +which ached to its very core. It was cruel to deceive that gentle, +trusting girl writing so lovingly of him, but to lose Maddy was to his +undisciplined nature more dreadful still, and casting the letter aside +he pleaded again, this time with the energy of despair, for he read his +fate in Maddy’s face, and when her lips a second time confirmed her +first reply, while she appealed to his sense of honor, of justice, of +right, and told him he could and must forget her, he knew there was no +hope, and man though he was, bowed his head upon Maddy’s hands and wept +stormily, mighty, choking sobs, which shook his frame, and seemed to +break up the very fountains of his life. Then to Maddy there came a +terrible temptation. Was it right for two who loved as they did to live +their lives apart?—right in her to force on Guy the fulfillment of vows +he could not literally keep? As mental struggles are always the more +severe, so Maddy’s took all her strength away, and for many minutes she +lay so white and still that Guy roused himself to care for her, +thinking of nothing then except to make her better. + +It was a long time ere that interview ended, but when it did there was +on Maddy’s face a peaceful expression, which only the sense of having +done right at the cost of a fearful sacrifice could give, while Guy’s +bore traces of a great and crushing sorrow, as he went out from Maddy’s +presence and felt that to him she was lost forever. He had promised her +he would do right; had said he would marry Lucy, being to her what a +husband should be; had listened while she talked of another world, +where they neither marry nor are given in marriage, and where it would +not be sinful for them to love each other, and as she talked her face +had shone like the face of an angel. He had held one of her hands at +parting, bending low his head, while she laid the other on it as she +blessed him, letting her snowy fingers thread his soft brown hair and +linger caressingly among his curly locks. But that was over now. They +had parted forever. She was lying where he left her, cold, and white, +and faint with dizzy pain. He was riding swiftly toward Aikenside, his +heart beats keeping time to the swift tread of his horse’s feet, and +his mind a confused medley of distracted thoughts, amid which two facts +stood out prominent and clear-he had lost Maddy Clyde, and had promised +her to marry Lucy Atherstone. + +For many days after that Guy kept his room, saying he was sick, and +refusing to see any one save Jessie and Mrs. Noah, the latter of whom +guessed in part what had happened, and imputing to him far more credit +than he deserved, petted and pitied and cared for him until he grew +weary of it, and said to her savagely: “You needn’t think me so good, +for I am not. I wanted Maddy Clyde, and told her so, but she refused me +and made me promise to marry Lucy; so I’m going to do that very +thing—going to England in a few weeks, or as soon as Maddy is better, +and before the sun of this year sets I shall be a married man.” + +After this all Mrs. Noah’s sympathy was in favor of Maddy, the good +lady making more than one pilgrimage to Honedale, where she expended +all her arguments trying to make Maddy revoke her decision; but Maddy +was firm in what she deemed right, and as her health began slowly to +improve, and there was no longer an excuse for Guy to tarry, he gave +out to the neighborhood that he was at last to be married, and started +for England the latter part of October, as unhappy and unwilling a +bridegroom, it may be, as ever wait after a bride. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. +THE INTERVAL BEFORE THE MARRIAGE. + + +Maddy never knew how she lived through those bright, autumnal days, +when the gorgeous beauty of decaying nature seemed so cruelly to mock +her anguish. As long as Guy was there, breathing the same air with +herself, she kept up, vaguely conscious of a shadowy hope that +something would happen without her instrumentality, something to ease +the weight pressing so hard upon her. But when she heard that he had +really gone, that a line had been received from him after he was on +board the steamer, all hope died out of her heart, and had it been +right she would have prayed that she might die and forget how utterly +miserable she was. + +At last there came to her three letters, one from Lucy, one from the +doctor, and one from Guy himself. Lucy’s she opened first, reading of +the sweet girl’s great happiness in seeing her darling boy again, of +her sorrow to find him so thin, and pale, and changed, in all save his +extreme kindness to her, his careful study of her wants, and evident +anxiety to please her in every respect. On this Lucy dwelt, until +Maddy’s heart seemed to leap up and almost turn over in its casing, so +fiercely it throbbed and ached with anguish. She was out in the beechen +woods when she read the letter, and laying her face in the grass she +sobbed as she had never sobbed before. + +The doctor’s next was opened, and Maddy read with blinding tears that +which for a moment increased her pain and sent to her bleeding heart an +added pang of disappointment, or a sense of wrong done to her, she +could not tell which. Dr. Holbrook was to be married the same day with +Lucy, and to Lucy’s sister, Margaret. + +“Maggie, I call her,” he wrote, “because that name is so much like my +first love, Maddy, the little girl who though I was too old to be her +husband, and so made me very wretched for a time, until I met and knew +Margaret Atherstone. I have told her of you, Maddy; I would not marry +her without, and she seems willing to take me as I am. We shall come +home with Guy, who is the mere wreck of what he was when I last saw +him. He has told me, Maddy, all about it, and though I doubly respect +you now, I cannot say that I think you did quite right. Better that one +should suffer than two, and Lucy’s is a nature which will forget far +sooner than yours or Guy’s. I pity you all.” + +This almost killed Maddy; she did not love the doctor, but the +knowledge that he was to marry another added to her misery, while what +he said of her decision was the climax of the whole. Had her sacrifice +been for nothing? Would it have been better if she had not sent Guy +away? It was anguish unspeakable to believe so, and the shadowy woods +never echoed to so bitter a cry of pain as that with which she laid her +head on the ground, and for a brief moment wished that she might die. +God pitied His child then, and for the next half hour she hardly knew +what she suffered. + +There was Guy’s letter yet to read, and with a listless indifference +she opened it, starting as there dropped into her lap a small _carte de +viste_, a perfect likeness of Guy, who sent it, he said, because he +wished her to have so much of himself. It would make him happier to +know she could sometimes look at him just as he should gaze upon her +dear picture after it was a sin to love the original. And this was all +the direct reference he made to the past except where he spoke of Lucy, +telling how happy she was, and how if anything could reconcile him to +his fate, it was the knowing how pure and good and loving was the wife +he was getting. Then he wrote of the doctor and Margaret, whom he +described as a dashing, brilliant girl, the veriest tease and madcap in +the world, and the exact opposite of Maddy. + +“It is strange to me why he chose her after loving you,” he wrote; “but +as they seem fond of each other, their chances of happiness are not +inconsiderable.” + +This letter, so calm, so cheerful in its tone, had a quieting effect on +Maddy, who read it twice, and then placing it in her bosom, started for +the cottage, meeting on the way with Flora who was seeking for her in +great alarm. Uncle Joseph had had a fit, she said, and fallen upon the +floor, cutting his forehead badly against the sharp point of the stove. +Hurrying on Maddy found that what Flora had said was true, and sent +immediately for the physician, who came at once, but shook his head +doubtfully as he examined his patient. There were all the symptoms of a +fever, he said, bidding Maddy prepare for the worst. Nothing in the +form of trouble could particularly affect Maddy now, and perhaps it was +wisely ordered that Uncle Joseph’s illness should take her thoughts +from herself. From the very first he refused to take his medicines from +any one save her or Jessie, who with her mother’s permission stayed +altogether at the cottage, and who, as Guy’s sister, was a great +comfort to Maddy. + +As the fever increased, and Uncle Joseph grew more and more delirious +his cries for Sarah were heartrending, making Jessie weep bitterly as +she said to Maddy: + +“If I knew where this Sarah was I’d go miles on foot to find her and +bring her to him.” + +Something like this Jessie said to her mother when she went for a day +to Aikenside, asking her in conclusion if she thought Sarah would go. + +“Perhaps,” and Agnes brushed abstractedly her long, flowing hair, +winding it around her jeweled fingers, and then letting the soft curls +fall across her snowy arms. + +“Where do you suppose she is?” was Jessie’s next question, but if Agnes +knew, she did not answer, except by reminding her little daughter that +it was past her bedtime. + +The next morning Agnes’ eyes were very red, as if she had been wakeful +the entire night, while her white face fully warranted the headache she +professed to have. + +“Jessie,” she said, as they sat together at their breakfast, “I am +going to Honedale to-day, going to see Maddy, and shall leave you here, +as I do not care to have us both absent.” + +Jessie demurred a little at first, but finally yielded, wondering what +had prompted this visit to the cottage. Maddy wondered so, too, as from +the window she saw Agnes instead of Jessie alighting from the carriage, +and was conscious of a thrill of gratification that Agnes would have +come to see her. But Agnes’ business concerned the sick man, poor Uncle +Joseph, who was sleeping when she came, and so did not hear her voice +as in the tidy kitchen she talked to Maddy, appearing extremely +agitated, and flashing her eyes rapidly from one part of the room to +another, resting now upon the tinware hung upon the wall and now upon +the gourd swimming in the water pail standing in the old-fashioned +sink, with the wooden spout, directly over the pile of stones covering +the drain. These things were familiar to the proud woman; she had seen +them before, and the sight of them now brought to her a most remorseful +regret for the past, while her heart ached cruelly as she wished she +had never crossed that threshold, or crossing it had never brought ruin +to one of its inmates. Agnes was not the same woman whom we first knew. +All hope of the doctor had long since been given up, and as Jessie grew +older the mother nature was stronger within her, subduing her +selfishness, and making her far more gentle and considerate for others +than she had been before. To Maddy she was exceedingly kind, and never +more so in manner than now, when they sat talking together in the +humble kitchen at the cottage. + +“You look tired and sick,” she said. “Your cares have been too much for +one not yet strong. Let me sit by him till he wakes, and you go up to +bed.” + +Very gladly Maddy accepted the offered relief, and utterly worn out +with her constant vigils, she was soon sleeping soundly in her own +room, while Flora, in the little shed, or back room of the house, was +busy with her ironing. Thus there was none to follow Agnes as she went +slowly into the sick-room where Uncle Joseph lay, his thin face +upturned to the light, and his lips occasionally moving as he muttered +in his sleep. There was a strange contrast between that wasted imbecile +and that proud, queenly woman, but she could remember a time when the +superiority was all upon his side, a time when in her childish +estimation he was the embodiment of every manly beauty, and the +knowledge that he loved her, his sister’s little hired girl, filled her +with pride and vanity. A great change had come to them both since those +days, and Agnes, watching him and smothering back the cry of pain which +arose to her lips at sight of him, felt that for the fearful change in +him she was answerable. Intellectual, talented, admired and sought by +all he had been once; he was a mere wreck now, and Agnes’ breath came +in short, quick gasps, as glancing furtively around to see that no one +was near, she laid her hand upon his forehead, and parting his thin +hair, said, pityingly: “Poor Joseph.” + +The touch awoke him, and starting up he stared wildly at her, while +some memory of the past seemed to be struggling through the misty +clouds, obscuring his mental vision. + +“Who are you, lady? Who, with eyes and hair like hers?” + +“I’m the `madam’ from Aikenside,” Agnes said, quite loudly, as Flora +passed the door. Then when she was gone she added, softly: “I’m Sarah. +Don’t you know me? Sarah Agnes Morris.” + +It seemed for a moment to burst upon him in its full reality, and to +her dying day Agnes would never forget the look upon his face, the +smile of perfect happiness breaking through the rain of tears, the +love, the tenderness mingled with distrust, which that look betokened +as he continued gazing at her, but said to her not a word. Again her +hand rested on his forehead, and taking it now in his he held it to the +light, laughing insanely at its soft whiteness; then touching the +costly diamonds which flashed upon him the rainbow hues, he said: +“Where’s that little bit of a ring I bought for you?” + +She had anticipated this, and took from her pocket a plain gold ring, +kept until that day where no one could find it, and holding it up to +him, said: “Here it is. Do you remember it?” + +“Yes, yes,” and his lips began to quiver with a grieved, injured +expression. “He could give you diamonds, and I couldn’t. That’s why you +left me, wasn’t it, Sarah—why you wrote that letter which made my head +into two? It’s ached so ever since, and I’ve missed you so much, Sarah! +They put me in a cell where crazy people were—oh! so many—and they said +that I was mad, when I was only wanting you. I’m not mad now, am I, +darling?” + +His arm was around her neck, and he drew her down until his lips +touched hers. And Agnes suffered it. She could not return the kiss, but +she did not turn away from his, and she let him caress her hair, and +wind it around his fingers, whispering: “This is like Sarah’s, and you +are Sarah, are you not?” + +“Yes, I am Sarah,” she would answer, while the smile so painful to see +would again break over his face as he told how much he had missed her, +and asked if she had not come to stay till he died. + +“There’s something wrong,” he said; “somebody dead, and seems as if +somebody else wanted to die—as if Maddy died ever since the Lord +Governor went away. Do you know Governor Guy?” + +“I am his stepmother,” Agnes replied, whereupon Uncle Joseph laughed so +long and loud that Maddy awoke, and, alarmed by the noise, came down to +see what was the matter. + +Agnes did not hear her, and as she reached the doorway, she started at +the strange position of the parties—Uncle Joseph still smoothing the +curls which drooped over him, and Agnes saying to him: “You heard his +name was Remington, did you not—James Remington?” + +Like a sudden revelation it came upon Maddy, and she turned to leave, +when Agnes, lifting her head, called her to come in. She did so, and +standing upon the opposite side of the bed, she said, questioningly: +“You are Sarah Morris?” + +For a moment the eyelids quivered, then the neck arched proudly, as if +it were a thing of which she was not ashamed, and Agnes answered: “Yes, +I was Sarah Agnes Morris; once for three months your grandmother’s +hired girl, and afterward adopted by a lady who gave me what education +I possess, together with that taste for high life which prompted me to +jilt your Uncle Joseph when a richer man than he offered himself to +me.” + +That was all she said—all that Maddy ever knew of her history, as it +was never referred to again, except that evening, when Agnes said to +her, pleadingly: “Neither Guy nor Jessie, nor any one, need know what I +have told you.” + +“They shall not,” was Maddy’s reply; and from that moment the past, so +far as Agnes was concerned, was a sealed page to both. With this bond +of confidence between them, Agnes felt herself strangely drawn toward +Maddy, while, if it were possible, something of her olden love was +renewed for the helpless man who clung to her now instead of Maddy, +refusing to let her go; neither had Agnes any disposition to leave him. +She should stay to the last, so she said; and she did, taking Maddy’s +place, and by her faithfulness and care winning golden laurels in the +opinion of the neighbors, who marveled at first to see so gay a lady at +Uncle Joseph’s bedside, attributing it all to her friendship for Maddy, +just as they attributed his calling her Sarah to a crazy freak. She did +resemble Sarah Morris a very little, they said; and in Maddy’s presence +they sometimes wondered where Sarah was, repeating strange things which +they had heard of her; but Maddy kept the secret from every one, so +that even Jessie never suspected why her mother stayed day after day at +the cottage; watching and waiting until the last day of Joseph’s life. + +She was alone with him then, so that Maddy never knew what passed +between them. She had left them together for an hour, while she did +some errands; and when she returned, Agnes met her at the door, and +with a blanched cheek whispered: “He is dead; he died in my arms, +blessing you and me; do you hear, blessing me! Surely; my sin is now +forgiven?” + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. +BEFORE THE BRIDAL. + + +There was a fresh grave made in the churchyard, and another chair +vacant at the cottage, when Maddy was at last alone. Unfettered by care +and anxiety for sick ones, her aching heart was free to go out after +the loved ones over the sea, go to the elm-shaded mansion she had heard +described so often, and where now two brides were busy with their +preparations for the bridal hurrying on so fast. Since the letter read +in the smoky, October woods, Maddy had not heard from Guy directly, +though Lucy had written since, a few brief lines, telling how happy she +was, how strong she was growing, and how much like himself Guy was +becoming. Maddy had been less than a woman if the last intelligence had +failed to affect her unpleasantly. She did not wish Guy to regret his +decision; but to be forgotten so soon after so strong protestations of +affection, was a little mortifying, and Maddy’s heart throbbed +painfully as she read the letter, half hoping it might prove the last +she should receive from Lucy Atherstone. Guy had left no orders for any +changes to be made at Aikenside; but Agnes, who was largely imbued with +a love of bustle and repair, had insisted that at least the suite of +rooms intended for the bride should be thoroughly renovated with new +paper and paint, carpets and furniture. This plan Mrs. Noah opposed, +for she guessed how little Guy would care for the change; but Agnes was +resolved, and as she had great faith in Maddy’s taste, she insisted +that she should go to Aikenside, and pass her judgment upon the +improvements. It would do her good, she said—little dreaming how much +it cost Maddy to comply with her wishes, or how fearfully the poor, +crushed heart ached, as Maddy went through the handsome rooms fitted up +for Guy’s young bride; but Mrs. Noah guessed it all, pitying so much +the white-faced girl, whose deep mourning robes told the loss of dear +ones by death; but gave no token of that great loss, tenfold worse than +death. + +“It was wicked in her to fetch you here,” she said to Maddy, one day +when in Lucy’s room she found her sitting upon the floor, with her head +bowed down upon the window sill. “But law, she’s a triflin’ thing, and +didn’t know ’twould kill you, poor child, poor Maddy!” and Mrs. Noah +laid her hand kindly on Maddy’s hair. “Maybe you’d better go home,” she +continued, as Maddy made no reply; “it must be hard, to be here in the +rooms, and among the things which by good rights should be yours.” + +“No, Mrs. Noah,” and Maddy’s voice was strangely unnatural, as she +lifted up her head, revealing a face so haggard and white that Mrs. +Noah was frightened, and asked in much alarm if anything new had +happened. + +“No, nothing; I was going to say that I’d rather stay a little longer +where there are signs and sounds of life. I should die to be alone at +Honedale to-morrow. I may die here, I don’t know. Do you know that +to-morrow will be the bridal?” + +Yes, Mrs. Noah knew it; but she hoped it might have escaped Maddy’s +mind. + +“Poor child,” she said again, “poor child, I mistrust you did wrong to +tell him no!” + +“Oh, Mrs. Noah, don’t tell me that; don’t make it harder for me to +bear. The tempter has been telling me so, all day, and my heart is so +hard and wicked, I cannot pray as I would. Oh, you don’t know how +wretched I am!” and Maddy hid her face in the broad, motherly lap, +sobbing so wildly that Mrs. Noah was greatly perplexed, how to act, or +what to say. + +Years ago, she would have spurned the thought that the grandchild of +the old man who had bowed to his own picture should be mistress of +Aikenside; but she had changed since then, and could she have had her +way, she would have stopped the marriage, and, bringing her boy home, +have given him to the young girl weeping so convulsively in her lap. +But Mrs. Noah could not have her way. The bridal guests were, even +then, assembling in that home beyond the sea. She could not call Guy +back, and so she pitied and caressed the wretched Maddy, saying to her +at last: + +“I’ll tell you what is impressed on my mind; this Lucy’s got the +consumption, without any kind of doubt, and if you’ve no objections to +a widower, you may——” + +She did not finish the sentence, for Maddy started in horror. To her +there was something murderous in the very idea, and she thrust it +quickly aside. Guy Remington was not for her, she said, and her wish +was to forget him. If she could get through the dreaded to-morrow, she +should do better. There had been a load upon her the whole day, a +nightmare she could not shake off, and she had come to Lucy’s room, in +the hope of leaving her burden there, of praying her pain away. Would +Mrs. Noah leave her a while, and see that no one came? + +The good woman could not refuse, and going out, she left Maddy by the +window, watching the sun as it went down, and then watching; the wintry +twilight deepen over the landscape, until all things were blended +together in one great darkness, and Jessie, seeking for her found her +at last, fainting upon the floor. + +Maddy was glad of the racking headache, which kept her in her bed the +whole of the next day, glad of any excuse to stay away from the family, +talking—all but Mrs. Noah—of Guy, and what was transpiring in England. +They had failed to remember the difference in the longitude of the two +places; but Maddy forgot nothing, and when the clock struck four, she +called Mrs. Noah to her and whispered, faintly: + +“They were to be married at eight in the evening. Allowing for possible +delays, it’s over before this and Guy is lost forever!” + +Mrs. Noah had no consolation to offer, and only pressed the hot, +feverish hands, while Maddy turned her face to the wall, and did not +speak again, except to whisper, incoherently, as she half slumbered, +half woke: + +“Did Guy think of me when he promised to love her, and does he, can he, +see how miserable I am?” Maddy was indeed passing through deep waters, +and that night, the fourth of December, the longest, dreariest she ever +knew, could never be forgotten. Once past, the worst was over, and as +the rarest metal is purified by fire, so Maddy came from the dreadful +ordeal strengthened for what was before her. Both Agnes and Mrs. Noah +noticed the strangely beautiful expression of her face, when she came +down to the breakfast-room, while Jessie, as she kissed her pale cheek, +whispered: + +“You look as if you had been with the angels.” + +Guy was not expected with his bride for two weeks, or more, and as the +days dragged on, Maddy felt that the waiting for him was more +intolerable than the seeing him with Lucy would be. Restless and +impatient, she could not remain quietly at the cottage—while at +Aikenside, she longed to return again to her own home, and in this way +the time wore on, until the anniversary of that day when she had come +from New York, and found Guy waiting for her at the station. To stay +that day in the house so rife with memories of the dead was impossible, +and Flora was surprised and delighted to hear that both were going up +to Aikenside in the vehicle hired of Farmer Green, whose son officiated +as driver. It was nearly noon when they reached their destination, +meeting at the gate with Flora’s brother Tom, who said to them: + +“We’ve heard from Mr. Guy; the ship is in; they’ll be here sure +to-night, and Mrs. Noah is turnin’ things upside down with the dinner.” + +Leaning back in the buggy, Maddy felt for a moment as if she were +dying. Never until then had she realized how, all the while, she had +been clinging to an indefinable hope, a presentiment that something +might yet occur to spare her from a long lifetime of pain, such as lay +before her if Guy were really lost; but the bubble had burst, leaving +her nothing to hope, nothing to cling to, nothing but black despair; +and half bewildered, she received the noisy greeting of Jessie, who met +her at the door, and dragged her into the drawing-room, decorated with +flowers from the hothouse, told her to guess who was coming. + +“I know; Tom told me; Guy is coming with Lucy,” Maddy answered, and +relieving herself from Jessie, she turned to Agnes, asking where Mrs. +Noah was, and if she might go to her for a moment. + +“Oh, Maddy, child, I’m sorry you’ve come to-day,” Mrs. Noah said, as +she chafed Maddy’s cold hands, and leading her to the fire, made her +sit down, while she untied her hood, and removed her cloak and furs. + +“I did not know it, or I should have stayed away,” Maddy replied; “I +shall not stay, as it is. I cannot see them to-day. Charlie will drive +me back before the train is due; but what did he say? And how is Lucy?” +“He did not mention her. There’s the dispatch” and Mrs. Noah handed to +Maddy the telegram, received that morning, and which was simply as +follows: + +“The steamer is here. Shall be at the station at five o’clock P. M. + + +GUY REMINGTON.” + + +Twice Maddy read it over, experiencing much the same feeling she would +have experienced had it been her death warrant she was reading. + +“At five o’clock. I must go before that,” she said, sighing as she +remembered how, one year ago that day, she was traveling over the very +route where Guy was now traveling with his bride. Did he think of it? +think of his long waiting at the depot, or of that memorable ride, the +events of which grew more and more distinct in her memory, making her +cheeks burn even now, as she recalled his many acts of tenderness and +care. + +Laying the telegram on the table, she went with Mrs. Noah through the +rooms, warmed and made ready for the bride, lingering longest in +Lucy’s, which the bridal decorations, and the bright fire blazing in +the grate made singularly inviting. As yet, there were no flowers +there, and Maddy claimed the privilege of arranging them for this room +herself. Agnes had almost stripped the conservatory; but Maddy found +enough to form a most tasteful bouquet, which she placed upon a marble +dressing table; then within a slip of paper which she folded across the +top, she wrote: “Welcome to the bride.” + +“They both will recognize my handwriting; they’ll know I’ve been here,” +she thought, as with one long, last, sad look at the room, she walked +away. + +They were laying the table for dinner now, and with a kind of dizzy, +uncertain feeling, Maddy watched the servants hurrying to and fro, +bringing out the choicest china, and the glittering silver, in honor of +the bride. Comparatively, it was not long since a little, frightened, +homesick girl, she first sat down with Guy at that table, from which +the proud Agnes would have banished her; but it seemed to her an age, +so much of happiness and pain had come to her since then. There was a +place for her there now, a place near Guy; but she should not fill it. +She could not stay; and she astonished Agnes and Jessie, just as they +were going to make their dinner toilet, by announcing her intention of +going home. She was not dressed to meet Mrs. Remington, she said, +shuddering as for the first time she pronounced a name which the +servants had frequently used, and which jarred on her ear, every time +she heard it. She was not dressed appropriately to meet an English +lady. Flora of course would stay, she said, as it was natural she +should, to greet her new mistress; but she must go, and finding Charlie +Green she bade him bring around the buggy. + +Agnes was not particularly surprised, for a vague suspicion of +something like the truth had gradually been creeping into her brain, as +she noted Maddy’s pallid face, and the changes which passed over it +whenever Guy was mentioned. Agnes pitied Maddy, for in her own heart +there was a little burning spot, when she remembered who was to +accompany Dr. Holbrook. So she did not urge her to remain, and she +tried to hush Jessie’s lamentations when she heard Maddy was going. + +One long, sad, wistful look at Guy’s and Lucy’s home, and Maddy +followed Charlie to the buggy waiting for her, bidding him drive +rapidly, as there was every indication of a coming storm. + +The gray, wintry afternoon was drawing to a close, and the December +night was shutting down upon the Honedale hills in sleety rain, when +the cottage was reached, and Maddy, passing up the narrow, slippery +walk, entered the cold, dreary room, where there was neither fire nor +light, nor friendly voice to greet her. No sound save the ticking of +the clock; no welcome save the purring of the house cat, who came +crawling at her feet as she knelt before the stove and tried to kindle +the fire. Charlie Green had offered to go in and do this for her, as +indeed he had offered to return and stay all night, but she had +declined, preferring to be alone, and with stiffened fingers she laid +the kindlings Flora had prepared, and then applying the match, watched +the blue flame as it gradually licked up the smoke and burst into a +cheerful blaze. + +“I shall feel better when it’s warm,” she said, crouching over the +fire, and shivering with more than bodily cold. + +There was a kind of nameless terror stealing over her as she sat +thinking of the year ago when the inmates of three graves across the +meadow were there beneath that very roof where she now sat alone. + +“I’ll strike a light,” she said, rising to her feet, and trying not to +glance at the shadowy corners filling her with fear. + +The lamp was found, and its friendly beams soon dispersed the darkness +from the corners and the fear from Maddy’s heart, but it could not +drive from her mind thoughts of what might at that moment be +transpiring at Aikenside. If the bride and groom came at all that +night, she knew they must have been there for an hour or more, and in +fancy she saw the tired, but happy, Lucy, as up in her pleasant room +she made her toilet for dinner, with Guy standing by and looking on. +Just as he had a right to do. Did he smile approvingly upon his young +wife? Did his eye, when it rested on her, light up with the same +expression she had seen so often when it looked at her? Did he commend +her taste and say his little wife was beautiful, as he kissed her fair, +white cheek, or was there a cloud upon his handsome face, a shadow on +his heart, heavy with thoughts of her, and would he rather it were +Maddy there in the bridal room? If so, his burden was hard indeed, but +not so hard as hers, and kneeling on the floor, poor Maddy laid her +head in the chair, and, ’mid piteous moans, asked God, her Father, to +help them both to bear—help her and Guy—making the latter love as he +ought the gentle girl who had left home and friends to live with him in +a far-distant land; asked, too, that she might tear from her heart +every sinful thought, loving Guy only as she might love the husband of +another. + +The prayer ended, Maddy still sat upon the floor, while over her pale +face the lamplight faintly flickered, showing the dark lines beneath +her eyes and the tear stains on her cheek. Without, the storm still was +raging, and the wintry rain, mingled with sleet and snow, beat +piteously against the curtained windows, while the wind howled +mournfully as it shook the door and sweeping past the cottage went +screaming over the hill. But Maddy heard nothing of the tumult. She had +brought a pillow from the bedroom, and placing it upon the chair, sat +down again upon the floor and rested her head upon it. She did not even +know that her pet cat had crept up beside her, purring contentedly and +occasionally licking her hair, much less did she hear above the storm +the swift tread of horses’ feet as some one came dashing down the road, +the rider pausing an instant as he caught a glimpse of the cottage lamp +and then hurrying on to the public house beyond, where the hostler +frowned moodily at being called out to care for a stranger’s horse, the +stranger meanwhile turning back a foot to where the cottage lamp shone +a beacon light through the inky darkness. The stranger reached the +little gate and, undoing the fastening, went hurrying up the walk, his +step upon the crackling snow catching Maddy’s ear at last and making +her wonder who could be coming there on such a night as this. It was +probably Charlie Green, she said, and with a feeling of impatience at +being intruded upon she arose to her feet just as the door turned upon +its hinges, letting in a powerful draught of wind, which extinguished +the lamp and left her in total darkness. + +But it did not matter. Maddy had caught a sound, a peculiar cough, +which froze the blood in her veins and made her quake with terror quite +as much as if the footsteps hurrying toward her had been the footsteps +of the dead, instead of belonging, as she knew they did, to Guy +Remington—Guy, who, with garments saturated with rain, felt for her in +the darkness, found her where from faintness she had crouched again +beside the chair, drew her closely to him, in a passionate, almost +painful, hug, and said, oh! so tenderly, so lovingly: + +“Maddy, my darling, my own! We will never be parted again.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. +LUCY. + + +Hours had gone by, and the clock hands pointed to twelve, ere Maddy +compelled herself to hear the story Guy had come to tell. She had +thrust him from her at first, speaking to him of Lucy, his wife, and +Guy had answered her back: “I have no wife—I never had one. Lucy is in +heaven,” and that was all Maddy knew until the great shock had spent +itself in tears and sobs, which became almost convulsions as she tried +to realize the fact that Lucy Atherstone was dead; that the bridal robe +about which she had written, with girlish frankness, proved to be her +shroud, and that her head that night was not pillowed on Guy’s arm, but +was resting under English turf and beneath an English sky. She could +listen at last, but her breath came in panting gasps; while Guy told +her how, on the very morning of the bridal, Lucy had greeted him with +her usual bright smile, appearing and looking better than he had before +seen her look since he reached her mother’s home; how for an hour they +sat together alone in a little room sacred to her, because years before +it was there he confessed his love. + +Seated on a low ottoman, with her golden head lying on his lap, she had +this morning told him, in her artless way, how much she loved him, and +how hard it sometimes was to make her love for the creature second to +her love for the Creator; told him she was not faultless, and asked +that when he found how erring and weak she was, he would bear with her +frailties as she would bear with his; talked with him, too, of Maddy +Clyde, confessing in a soft, low tone, how once or twice a pang of +jealousy had wrung her heart when she read his praises of his pupil. +But she had conquered that; she had prayed it all away, and now, next +to her own sister, she loved Maddy Clyde. Other words, too, were +spoken—words of guileless, pure affection, too sacred even for Guy to +breathe to Maddy; and then Lucy had left him, her hart-bounding step +echoing through the hall and up the winding stairs, down which she +never came again alive, for when Guy next looked upon her she was lying +white as a water lily, her neck and dress and golden hair stained with +the pale red life current oozing from her livid lips. A blood vessel +had been suddenly ruptured, the physician said, and for her, the fair, +young bride, there was no hope. They told her she must die, for the +mother would have them tell her. Once, for a few moments, there rested +on her face a fearfully frightened look, such as a harmless bird might +wear when suddenly caught in a snare. But that soon passed away as from +beneath the closed eyelids the great tears came gushing, and the +stained lips whispered faintly: “God knows best what’s right. Poor +Guy!—break it gently to him.” + +At this point in the story Guy broke down entirely, sobbing as only +strong men can sob. + +“Maddy,” he said, “I felt like a heartless wretch—a most consummate +hypocrite—as, standing by Lucy’s side, I met the fond, pitying glance +of her blue eyes, and suffered her poor little hand to part my hair as +she tried to comfort me, even though every word she uttered was +shortening her life; tried to comfort me, the wretch who was there so +unwillingly, and who at this prospect of release hardly knew at first +whether he was more sorry than pleased. You may well start from me in +horror, Maddy. I was just the wretch I describe: but I overcame it, +Maddy, and Heaven is my witness that no thought of you intruded itself +upon me afterward is I stood by my dying Lucy—gentle, patient, loving +to the last. I saw how good, how sweet she was, and something of the +old love, the boy love, came back to me, as I held her in my arms, +where she wished to be. I would have saved her if I could; and when I +called her ‘my darling Lucy,’ they were not idle words. I kissed her +many times for myself, and once, Maddy, for you. She told me to. She +whispered: ‘Kiss me, Guy, for Maddy Clyde. Tell her I’d rather she +should take my place than anybody else—rather my Guy should call her +wife—for I know she will not be jealous if you sometimes talked of your +dead Lucy, and I know she will help lead my boy to that blessed home +where sorrow never comes.’ That was the last she ever spoke, and when +the sun went down death had claimed my bride. She died in my arms, +Maddy. I felt the last fluttering of her pulse, the last beat of her +heart. I laid her back upon her pillows. I wiped the blood from her +lips and from her golden curls. I followed her to her early grave. I +saw her buried from my sight, and then, Maddy, I started home; thoughts +of you and thoughts of Lucy blended equally together until Aikenside +was reached. I talked with Mrs. Noah; I heard all of you there was to +tell, and then I talked with Agnes, who was not greatly surprised, and +did not oppose my coming here tonight. I could not remain there, +knowing you were alone. In the bridal chamber I found your bouquet, +with its ‘Welcome to the bride.’ Maddy, you must be that bride. Lucy +sanctioned it, and the doctor, too, for I told him all. His own wedding +was, of course, deferred, and he did not come home with me, but he +said: ‘Tell Maddy not to wait. Life is too short to waste any +happiness. She has my blessing.’ And, Maddy, it must be so. Aikenside +needs a mistress; you are all alone. You are mine—mine forever.” + +The storm had died away, and the moonbeams stealing through the window +told that morning was breaking, but neither Guy nor Maddy heeded the +lapse of time. Theirs was a sad kind of happiness as they talked +together, and could Lucy have listened to them she would have felt +satisfied that she was not forgotten. One long, bright curl, cut from +her head by his own hand, was all there was left of her to Guy, save +the hallowed memories of her purity and goodness—memories which would +yet mold the proud, impulsive Guy into the earnest, consistent +Christian which Lucy in her life had desired that he should be, and +which Maddy rejoiced to see him. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. +FINALE. + + +The close of a calm September afternoon, and the autumnal sunlight +falls softly upon Aikenside, where a gay party is now assembled. For +four years Maddy Clyde has been mistress there, and in looking back +upon them she wonders how so much happiness as she has known could be +experienced in so short a time. Never but once has the slightest ripple +of sorrow shadowed her heart, and that was when her noble husband, Guy, +said to her, in a voice she knew was earnest and determined that he +could no longer remain deaf to his country’s call—that where the battle +storm was raging he was needed, and like a second Sardanapalus he must +not stay at home. Then for a brief season her bright face was overcast, +and her brown eyes dim with weeping. Giving him to the war seemed like +giving him up to death. But women can be as true heroes as men. Indeed, +it oftentimes costs more courage for a weak, confiding woman to bid her +loved ones leave her for the field of carnage than it costs them to +face the cannon’s mouth. Maddy found it so, but Christian patriotism +triumphed over all, and stifling her own grief, she sent him away with +smiles, and prayers, and cheering words of encouragement, turning +herself for consolation to the source from which she never sued for +peace in vain. Save that she missed her husband terribly, she was not +lonely, for her beautiful dark-eyed boy, whom they called Guy, Jr., +kept her busy, while not very many weeks afterward, Guy, Sr., sitting +in his tent, read with moistened eyes of a little golden-haired +daughter, whom Maddy named Lucy Atherstone, and gazed upon a curl of +hair she inclosed to the soldier father, asking if it were not like +some other hair now moldering back to dust within an English +churchyard. “Maggie” said it was, Aunt Maggie, as Guy, Jr., called the +wife of Dr. Holbrook, who had come to Aikenside to stay, while her +husband did his duty as surgeon in the army. That little daughter is a +year-old baby now, and in her short white dress and coral bracelets she +sits neglected on the nursery floor, while mother and Jessie, Maggie +and everybody hasten out into the yard to welcome the returning +soldier, Major Guy, whose arm is in a sling, and whose face is very +pale from the effects of wounds received at Gettysburg, where his +daring courage had well-nigh won for Maddy a widow’s heritage. For the +present the arm is disabled, and so he has been discharged, and comes +back to the home where warm words of welcome greet him, from the lowest +servant up to his darling wife, who can only look her joy as he folds +her in his well arm, and kisses her beautiful face. Only Margaret +Holbrook seems a little sad, she had so wanted her husband to come with +Guy, but his humanity would not permit him to leave the suffering +beings who needed his care. Loving messages he sent to her, and her +tears were dried when she heard from Guy how greatly he was beloved by +the pale occupants of the beds of pain, and how much he was doing to +relieve their anguish. + +Jessie, grown to be a most beautiful girl of nearly sixteen, is still a +child in actions, and wild with delight at seeing her brother again, +throws her arms around his neck, telling, in almost the same breath, +how proud she is of him, how much she wished to go to him when she +heard he was wounded, how she wishes she was a boy, so she could +enlist, how nicely Flora is married and settled down at the cottage in +Honedale, and then asks if he knows aught of the rebel colonel to whom +just before the war broke out her mother was married, and whose home +was in Richmond. + +Guy knows nothing of him, except that he is still doing what he deems +his duty in fighting for the Confederacy, but from exchanged prisoners, +who had come up from Richmond, he has heard of a beautiful lady, an +officer’s wife, and as rumor said, a Northern woman, who visited them +in prison, speaking kind words of sympathy, and once binding up a +drummer boy’s aching head with a handkerchief, which he still retained, +and on whose corner could be faintly traced the name of “Agnes +Remington.” + +Jessie’s eyes are full of tears as she says: + +“Poor mamma, how glad I am I did not go to Virginia with her. It’s +months since I heard from her direct. Of course it was she who was so +good to the drummer boy. She cannot be much of a rebel,” and Jessie +glances triumphantly at Mrs. Noah, who, never having quite overcome her +dislike of Agnes, had sorely tried Jessie by declaring that her mother +“had found her level at last, and was just where she wanted to be.” + +Good Mrs. Noah, the ancient man whose name she bore would as soon have +thought of leaving the Ark as she of turning a traitor to her country, +and when she heard of the riotous mob raised against the draft, she +talked seriously of going in person to New York “to give ’em a piece of +her mind,” and for one whole day refused to speak to Flora’s husband, +because he was a “dum dimocrat,” and she presumed was opposed to +Lincoln. With the exception of Maddy, no one was more pleased to see +Guy than herself. He was her boy, the one she brought up, and with all +a mother’s fervor she kissed his bronzed cheek, and told him how glad +she was to have him back. + +With his boy on his sound arm, Guy disengaged himself from the noisy +group and went with Maddy to where the little lady, the child he had +never seen, was just beginning to show signs of resentment at being +left so long alone. + +“Lulu, sissy, papa’s come; this is papa,” the little boy cried, +assuming the honor of the introduction. + +Lulu, as they called her, was not afraid of the tall soldier, and +stretching out her fat, white hands, went to him readily. Blue-eyed and +golden haired, she bore but little resemblance to either father or +mother, but there was a sweet, beautiful face, of which Maddy had often +dreamed, but never seen, and whether it were in the infantile features +of his little girl. Parting lovingly her yellow curls and kissing her +fair cheek, he said to Maddy, softly, just as he always spoke of that +dead one: + +“Maddy, darling, Margaret Holbrook is right—our baby daughter is very +much like our dear lost Lucy Atherstone.” + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AIKENSIDE *** + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +concept and trademark. 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Holmes</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Aikenside</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Mary J. Holmes</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: February 16, 2003 [eBook #6954]<br /> +[Most recently updated: July 1, 2021]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AIKENSIDE ***</div> + +<h1>Aikenside</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">by Mary J. Holmes</h2> + +<p class="letter"> +Author of “Maggie Miller,” “Dora Drane,” “English +Orphans,” “The Homestead on the Hillside,” “Meadowbrook +Farm,” “Lena Rivers,” “Rosamond,” “Cousin +Maude,” “Tempest and Sunshine,” “Rector of St. +Marks,” “Mildred,” “The Leighton Homestead,” +“Miss McDonald” +</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01">CHAPTER I. THE EXAMINING COMMITTEE.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">CHAPTER II. MADELINE CLYDE.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">CHAPTER III. THE EXAMINATION.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap04">CHAPTER IV. GRANDPA MARKHAM.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap05">CHAPTER V. THE RESULT.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap06">CHAPTER VI. CONVALESCENCE.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap07">CHAPTER VII. THE DRIVE.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap08">CHAPTER VIII. SHADOWINGS OF WHAT WAS TO BE.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap09">CHAPTER IX. THE DECISION.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap10">CHAPTER X. AT AIKENSIDE.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap11">CHAPTER XI. GUY AT HOME.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap12">CHAPTER XII. A GENEROUS LETTER.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap13">CHAPTER XIII. UNCLE JOSEPH.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap14">CHAPTER XIV. MADDY AND LUCY.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap15">CHAPTER XV. THE HOLIDAYS.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap16">CHAPTER XVI. THE DOCTOR AND MADDY.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap17">CHAPTER XVII. WOMANHOOD.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap18">CHAPTER XVIII. THE BURDEN.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap19">CHAPTER XIX. LIFE AT THE COTTAGE.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap20">CHAPTER XX. THE BURDEN GROWS HEAVIER.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap21">CHAPTER XXI. THE INTERVAL BEFORE THE MARRIAGE.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap22">CHAPTER XXII. BEFORE THE BRIDAL.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap23">CHAPTER XXIII. LUCY.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap24">CHAPTER XXIV. FINALE.</a></td> +</tr> + + +</table> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap01"></a>CHAPTER I.<br/> +THE EXAMINING COMMITTEE.</h2> + +<p> +The good people of Devonshire were rather given to quarreling—sometimes +about the minister’s wife, meek, gentle Mrs. Tiverton, whose manner of +housekeeping, and style of dress, did not exactly suit them; sometimes about +the minister himself, good, patient Mr. Tiverton, who vainly imagined that if +he preached three sermons a week, attended the Wednesday evening +prayer-meeting, the Thursday evening sewing society, officiated at every +funeral, visited all the sick, and gave to every beggar who called at his door, +besides superintending the Sunday school, he was earning his salary of six +hundred per year. +</p> + +<p> +Sometimes, and that not rarely, the quarrel crept into the choir, and then, for +one whole Sunday, it was all in vain that Mr. Tiverton read the psalm and hymn, +casting troubled glances toward the vacant seats of his refractory singers. +There was no one to respond, unless it were good old Mr. Hodges, who pitched so +high that few could follow him; while Mrs. Captain Simpson—whose +daughter, the organist, had been snubbed at the last choir meeting by Mr. +Hodges’ daughter, the alto singer—rolled up her eyes at her next +neighbor, or fanned herself furiously in token of her disgust. +</p> + +<p> +Latterly, however, there had come up a new cause of quarrel, before which every +other cause sank into insignificance. Now, though the village of Devonshire +could boast but one public schoolhouse, said house being divided into two +departments, the upper and lower divisions, there were in the town several +district schools; and for the last few years a committee of three had been +annually appointed to examine and decide upon the merits of the various +candidates for teaching, giving to each, if the decision were favorable, a +little slip of paper certifying their qualifications to teach a common school. +Strange that over such an office so fierce a feud should have arisen; but when +Mr. Tiverton, Squire Lamb and Lawyer Whittemore, in the full conviction that +they were doing right, refused a certificate of scholarship to Laura Tisdale, +niece of Mrs. Judge Tisdale, and awarded it to one whose earnings in a factory +had procured for her a thorough English education, the villagers, to use a +vulgar phrase, were at once set by the ears, the aristocracy abusing, and the +democracy upholding the dismayed trio, who, as the breeze blew harder, quietly +resigned their office, and Devonshire was without a school committee. +</p> + +<p> +In this emergency something must be done, and, as the two belligerent parties +could only unite on a stranger, it seemed a matter of special providence that +only two months before, young Dr. Holbrook, a native of modern Athens, had +rented the pleasant little office on the village common, formerly occupied by +old Dr. Carey, now lying in the graveyard by the side of some whose days he had +prolonged, and others whose days he had surely shortened. Besides being +handsome, and skillful, and quite as familiar with the poor as the rich, the +young doctor was descended from the aristocratic line of Boston Holbrooks, +facts which tended to make him a favorite with both classes; and, greatly to +his surprise, he found himself unanimously elected to the responsible office of +sole Inspector of Common Schools in Devonshire. It was in vain that he +remonstrated, saying he knew nothing whatever of the qualifications requisite +for a teacher; that he could not talk to girls, young ones especially; that he +should make a miserable failure, and so forth. The people would not listen. +Somebody must examine the teachers and that somebody might as well be Dr. +Holbrook as anybody. +</p> + +<p> +“Only be strict with ’em, draw the reins tight, find out to your +satisfaction whether a gal knows her P’s and Q’s before you give +her a stifficut. We’ve had enough of your ignoramuses,” said +Colonel Lewis, the democratic potentate to whom Dr. Holbrook was expressing his +fears that he should not give satisfaction. Then, as a bright idea suggested +itself to the old gentleman, he added: “I tell you what, just cut one or +two at first; that’ll give you a name for being particular, which is just +the thing.” +</p> + +<p> +Accordingly, with no definite idea as to what was expected of him, except that +he was to find out “whether a girl knew her P’s and +Q’s,” and was also to “cut one or two of the first +candidates,” Dr. Holbrook accepted the office, and then awaited rather +nervously his initiation. He was not easy in the society of ladies, unless, +indeed, the lady stood in need of his professional services, when he lost sight +of <i>her</i> at once, and thought only of her disease. His patient once well, +however, he became nervously shy and embarrassed, retreating as soon as +possible from her presence to the covert of his friendly office, where, with +his boots upon the table and his head thrown back in a most comfortable +position, he sat one April morning, in happy oblivion of the bevy of girls who +must, of course, ere long-invade his sanctum. +</p> + +<p> +“Something for you, sir. The lady will wait for an answer,” said +his “chore boy,” passing to his master a little three-cornered +note, and nodding toward the street. +</p> + +<p> +Following the direction indicated, the doctor saw, drawn up near his door, an +old-fashioned one-horse wagon, such as is still occasionally seen in New +England. A square boxed, dark green wagon, drawn by a sorrel horse, sometimes +called by the genuine Yankee “yellow,” and driven by a white-haired +man, whose silvery locks, falling around his wrinkled face, gave to him a +pleasing, patriarchal appearance, which interested the doctor far more than did +the flutter of the blue ribbon beside him, even though the bonnet that ribbon +tied shaded the face of a young girl. The note was from her, and, tearing it +open, the doctor read, in the prettiest of all pretty, girlish handwriting: +</p> + +<p> +“Dr. Holbrook.” +</p> + +<p> +Here it was plainly visible that a “D” had been written as if she +would have said “Dear.” Then, evidently changing her mind, she had +with her finger blotted out the “D,” and made it into an oddly +shaped “S,” so that it read simply: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“Dr. Holbrook—Sir: Will you be at leisure to examine me on Monday +afternoon, at three o’clock? +</p> + +<p class="right"> +“M<small>ADELINE</small> A. C<small>LYDE</small>. +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“P. S.—For particular reasons I hope you can attend to me as early +as Monday. M. A. C.” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Holbrook knew very little of girls, but he thought this note, with its P. +S., decidedly girlish. Still he made no comment, either verbal or mental, so +flurried was he with knowing that the evil he so much dreaded had come upon him +at last. Had it been left to his choice, he would far rather have extracted +every one of that maiden’s teeth, than to have set himself up before her +like some horrid ogre, asking what she knew. But the choice was not his, and, +turning to the boy, he said, laconically, “Tell her to come.” +</p> + +<p> +Most men would have sought for a glimpse of the face under the bonnet tied with +blue, but Dr. Holbrook did not care a picayune whether it were ugly or fair, +though it did strike him that the voice was singularly sweet, which, after the +boy had delivered his message, said to the old man, “Now, grandpa, +we’ll go home. I know you must be tired.” +</p> + +<p> +Slowly Sorrel trotted down the street, the blue ribbons fluttering in the wind, +while one little ungloved hand was seen carefully adjusting about the old +man’s shoulders the ancient camlet cloak which had done duty for many a +year, and was needed on this chill April day. The doctor saw all this, and the +impression left upon his mind was, that Candidate No. 1 was probably a nice-ish +kind of a girl, and very good to her grandfather. But what should he ask her, +and how demean himself toward her? Monday afternoon was frightfully near, he +thought, as this was only Saturday; and then, feeling that he must be ready, he +brought out from the trunk, where, since his arrival in Devonshire, they had +bean quietly lying, books enough to have frightened an older person than poor +little Madeline Clyde, riding slowly home with grandpa, and wishing so much +that she’d had a glimpse of Dr. Holbrook, so as to know what he was like, +and hoping he would give her a chance to repeat some of the many pages of +geography and “Parley’s History,” which she knew by heart. +How she would have trembled could she have seen the formidable volumes heaped +upon his table and waiting for her. There were French and Latin grammars, +“Hamilton’s Metaphysics,” “Olmstead’s +Philosophy,” “Day’s Algebra,” “Butler’s +Analogy,” and many others, into which poor Madeline had never so much as +looked. Arranging them in a row, and half wishing himself back again to the +days when he had studied them, the doctor went out to visit his patients, of +which there were so many that Madeline Clyde entirely escaped his mind, nor did +she trouble him again until the dreaded Monday came, and the hands of his watch +pointed to two. +</p> + +<p> +“One hour more,” he said to himself, just as the roll of wheels and +a cloud of dust announced the approach of something. +</p> + +<p> +Could it be Sorrel and the square-boxed wagon? Oh, no; far different from +grandfather Clyde’s turnout was the stylish carriage and the spirited +bays dashing down the street, the colored driver reining them suddenly, not +before the office door, but just in front of the white cottage in the same +yard, the house where Dr. Holbrook boarded, and where, if he ever married in +Devonshire, he would most likely bring his wife. +</p> + +<p> +“Guy Remington, the very chap of all others whom I’d rather see, +and, as I live, there’s Agnes, with Jessie. Who knew she was in these +parts?” was the doctor’s mental exclamation, as, running his +fingers through his hair and making a feint of pulling up the corners of his +rather limp collar, he hurried out to the carriage, from which a dashing +looking lady of thirty, or thereabouts, was alighting. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Agnes, I beg your pardon, Mrs. Remington, when did you come?” +he asked, offering his hand to the lady, who, coquettishly shaking back from +her pretty, dollish face a profusion of light brown curls, gave him the tips of +her lavender kids, while she told him she had come to Aikenside the Saturday +before; and hearing, from Guy that the lady with whom he boarded was an old +friend of hers, she had driven over to call, and brought Jessie with her. +“Here, Jessie, speak to the doctor. He was poor dear papa’s +friend,” and a very proper sigh escaped Agnes Remington’s lips as +she pushed a little curly-haired girl toward Dr. Holbrook. +</p> + +<p> +The lady of the house had spied them by this time, and came running down the +walk to meet her rather distinguished visitor, wondering, it may be, to what +she was indebted for this call from one who, since her marriage with the +supposed wealthy Dr. Remington, had rather cut her former acquaintances. Agnes +was delighted to see her, and, as Guy declined entering the cottage just then, +the two friends disappeared within the door, while the doctor and Guy repaired +to the office, the latter sitting down in the very chair intended for Madeline +Clyde. This reminded the doctor of his perplexity, and also brought the +comforting thought that Guy, who had never failed him yet, could surely offer +some suggestions. But he would not speak of her just now; he had other matters +to talk about, and so, jamming his penknife into a pine table covered with +similar jams, he said: “Agnes, it seems, has come to Aikenside, +notwithstanding she declared she never would, when she found that the whole of +the Remington property belonged to your mother, and not your father.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes. She got over her pique as soon as I settled a handsome little +income on Jessie, and, in fact, on her too, until she is foolish enough to +marry again, when it will cease, of course, as I do not feel it my duty to +support any man’s wife, unless it be my own, or my father’s,” +was Guy Remington’s reply; whereupon the penknife went again into the +table, and this time with so much force that the point was broken off; but the +doctor did not mind it, and with the jagged end continued to make jagged marks, +while he continued: “She’ll hardly marry again, though she may. +She’s young—not over twenty-six—- +</p> + +<p> +“Twenty-eight, if the family Bible does not lie; but she’d never +forgive me if she knew I told you that. So let it pass that she’s +twenty-six. She certainly is not more than three years your senior, a mere +nothing, if you wish to make her Mrs. Holbrook;” and Guy’s dark +eyes scanned curiously the doctor’s face, as if seeking there for the +secret of his proud young stepmother’s anxiety to visit plain Mrs. Conner +that afternoon. But the doctor only laughed merrily at the idea of his being +father to Guy, his college chum and long-tried friend. +</p> + +<p> +Agnes Remington—reclining languidly in Mrs. Conner’s easy-chair, +and overwhelming her former friend with descriptions of the gay parties she had +attended in Boston, and the fine sights she saw in Europe, whither her +gray-haired husband had taken her for a wedding tour—would not have felt +particularly flattered, could she have seen that smile, or heard how easily, +from talking of her, Dr. Holbrook turned to another theme, to Madeline Clyde, +expected now almost every moment. There was a merry laugh on Guy’s part, +as he listened to the doctor’s story, and, when it was finished, he said: +“Why, I see nothing so very distasteful in examining a pretty girl, and +puzzling her, to see her blush. I half wish I were in your place. I should +enjoy the novelty of the thing.” “Oh, take it, then; take my place, +Guy,” the doctor exclaimed, eagerly. “She does not know me from +Adam. Here are books, all you will need. You went to a district school once a +week when you were staying in the country. You surely have some idea, while I +have not the slightest. Will you, Guy?” he persisted more earnestly, as +he heard wheels in the street, and was sure old Sorrel had come again. +</p> + +<p> +Guy Remington liked anything savoring of a frolic, but in his mind there were +certain conscientious scruples touching the justice of the thing, and so at +first he demurred; while the doctor still insisted, until at last he laughingly +consented to commence the examination, provided the doctor would sit by, and +occasionally come to his aid. +</p> + +<p> +“You must write the certificate, of course,” he said, +“testifying that she is qualified to teach.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, certainly, Guy, if she is; but maybe she won’t be, and my +orders are, to be strict—very strict.” +</p> + +<p> +“How did she look?” Guy asked, and the doctor replied: “Saw +nothing but her bonnet. Came in a queer old go-giggle of a wagon, such as your +country farmers drive. Guess she won’t be likely to stir up the bile of +either of us, particularly as I am bullet proof, and you have been engaged for +years. By the way, when do you cross the sea again for the fair Lucy? Rumor +says this summer.” +</p> + +<p> +“Rumor is wrong, as usual, then,” was Guy’s reply, a soft +light stealing into his handsome eyes. Then, after a moment, he added: +“Miss Atherstone’s health is far too delicate for her to incur the +risks of a climate like ours. If she were well acclimated, I should be glad, +for it is terribly lonely up at Aikenside.” +</p> + +<p> +“And do you really think a wife would make it pleasanter?” Dr +Holbrook asked, the tone of his voice indicating a little doubt as to a +man’s being happier for having a helpmate to share his joys and sorrows. +</p> + +<p> +But no such doubts dwelt in the mind of Guy Remington. Eminently fitted for +domestic happiness, he looked forward anxiously to the time when sweet Lucy +Atherstone, the fair English girl to whom he had become engaged when, four +years before, he visited Europe, should be strong enough to bear transplanting +to American soil. Twice since his engagement he had visited her, finding her +always lovely, gentle, and yielding. Too yielding, it sometimes seemed to him, +while occasionally the thought had flashed upon him that she did not possess a +very remarkable depth of intellect. But he said to himself, he did not care; he +hated strong-minded women, and would far rather his wife should be a little +weak than masculine, like his Aunt Margaret, who sometimes wore bloomers, and +advocated women’s rights. Yes, he greatly preferred Lucy Atherstone, as +she was, to a wife like the stately Margaret, or like Agnes, his pretty +stepmother, who only thought how she could best attract attention; and as it +had never occurred to him that there might be a happy medium, that a woman need +not be brainless to be feminine and gentle, he was satisfied with his choice, +as well he might be, for a fairer, sweeter flower never bloomed than Lucy +Atherstone, his affianced bride. Guy loved to think of Lucy, and as the +doctor’s remarks brought her to his mind, he went off into a reverie +concerning her, becoming so lost in thought that until the doctor’s hand +was laid upon his shoulder by way of rousing him, he did not see that what his +friend had designated as a go-giggle was stopping in front of the office, and +that from it a young girl was alighting. +</p> + +<p> +Naturally very polite to females, Guy’s first impulse was to go to her +assistance, but she did not need it, as was proven by the light spring with +which she reached the ground. The white-haired man was with her again, but he +evidently did not intend to stop, and a close observer might have detected a +shade of sadness and anxiety upon his face as Madeline called cheerily out to +him: “Good-by, grandpa. Don’t fear for me; I hope you have good +luck;” then, as he drove away, she ran a step after him and said; +“Don’t look so sorry, for if Mr. Remington won’t let you have +the money, there’s my pony, Beauty. I am willing to give him up.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never, Maddy. It’s all the little fortin’ you’ve got. +I’ll let the old place go first;” and, chirruping to Sorrel, the +old man drove on, while Madeline walked, with a beating heart, to the office +door, knocking timidly. +</p> + +<p> +Glancing involuntarily at each other, the young men exchanged meaning smiles, +while the doctor whispered softly: “Verdant—that’s sure. +Wonder if she’ll knock at a church.” +</p> + +<p> +As Guy sat nearest the door, it was he who held it ajar while Madeline came in, +her soft brown eyes glistening with something like a tear, and her cheeks +burning with excitement as she took the chair indicated by Guy Remington, who +unconsciously found himself master of ceremonies. +</p> + +<p> +Poor little Madeline! +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap02"></a>CHAPTER II.<br/> +MADELINE CLYDE.</h2> + +<p> +Madge her schoolmates called her, because the name suited her, they said; but +Maddy they called her at home, and there was a world of unutterable tenderness +in the voices of the old couple, her grandparents, when they said that name, +while their dim eyes lighted up with pride and joy when they rested upon the +young girl who answered to the name of Maddy. Their only daughter’s only +child, she had lived with them since her mother’s death, for her father +was a sea captain, who never returned from his last voyage to China, made two +months before she was born. Very lonely and desolate would the home of +Grandfather Markham have been without the presence of Madeline, but with her +there, the old red farmhouse seemed to the aged couple like a paradise. +</p> + +<p> +Forty years they had lived there, tilling the rather barren soil of the rocky +homestead, and, saving the sad night when they heard that Richard Clyde was +lost at sea, and the far sadder morning when their daughter died, bitter sorrow +had not come to them; and, truly thankful for the blessings so long vouchsafed +them, they had retired each night in peace with God and man, and risen each +morning to pray. But a change was coming over them. In an evil hour Grandpa +Markham had signed a note for a neighbor and friend, who failed to pay, and so +it all fell on Mr. Markham, who, to meet the demand, mortgaged his homestead; +the recreant neighbor still insisting that long before the mortgage should be +due, he certainly would be able himself to meet it. This, however, he had not +done, and, after twice begging off a foreclosure, poor old Grandfather Markham +found himself at the mercy of a grasping, remorseless man, into whose hands the +mortgage had passed. It was vain to hope that Silas Slocum would wait. The +money must either be forthcoming, or the red farmhouse be sold, with its few +acres of land. Among his neighbors there was not one who had the money to +spare, even if they had been willing to do so. And so he must look among +strangers. +</p> + +<p> +“If I could only help,” Madeline had said one evening when they sat +talking over their troubles; “but there’s nothing I can do, unless +I apply for our school this summer. Mr. Green is committeeman; he likes us, and +I don’t believe but what he’ll let me have it. I mean to go and +see;” and, ere the old people had recovered from their astonishment, +Madeline had caught her bonnet and shawl, and was flying down the road. +</p> + +<p> +Madeline was a favorite with all, especially with Mr. Green, and as the school +would be small that summer, the plan struck him favorably. Her age, however, +was an objection, and he must take time to see what others thought of a child +like her becoming a schoolmistress. Others thought well of it, and so before +the close of the next day it was generally known through Honedale, as the +southern part of Devonshire was called, that pretty little Madge Clyde had been +engaged as teacher, she receiving three dollars a week, with the understanding +that she must board herself. It did not take Madeline long to calculate that +twelve times three were thirty-six, more than a tenth of what her grandfather +must borrow. It seemed like a little fortune, and blithe as a singing bird she +flitted about the house, now stopping a moment to fondle her pet kitten, while +she whispered the good news in its very appreciative ear, and then stroking her +grandfather’s silvery hair, as she said: +</p> + +<p> +“You can tell them that you are sure of paying thirty-six dollars in the +fall, and if I do well, maybe they’ll hire me longer. I mean to try my +very best. I wonder if ever anybody before me taught a school when they were +only fourteen and a half. Do I look as young as that?” and for an instant +the bright; childish face scanned itself eagerly in the old-fashioned mirror, +with the figure of an eagle on the top. +</p> + +<p> +She did look very young, and yet there was something womanly, too, in the +expression of the face, something which said that life’s realities were +already beginning to be understood by her. +</p> + +<p> +“If my hair were not short I should do better. What a pity I cut it the +last time; it would have been so long and splendid now,” she continued, +giving a kind of contemptuous pull at the thick, beautiful brown hair on whose +glossy surface there was in certain lights a reddish tinge, which added to its +beauty. +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind the hair, Maddy,” the old man said, gazing fondly at +her with a half sigh as he remembered another brown head, pillowed now beneath +the graveyard turf. “Maybe you won’t pass muster, and then the hair +will make no difference. There’s a new committee-man, that Dr. Holbrook, +from Boston, and new ones are apt to be mighty strict.” +</p> + +<p> +Instantly Maddy’s face flushed all over with nervous dread, as she +thought: “What if I should fail?” fancying that to do so would be +an eternal disgrace. But she should not. She was called by everybody the very +best scholar in school, the one whom the teachers always put forward when +desirous of showing off, the one whom Mr. Tiverton, and Squire Lamb, and Lawyer +Whittemore always noticed so much. Of course she should not fail, though she +did dread Dr. Holbrook, wondering much what he would ask her first, and hoping +it would be something in arithmetic, provided he did not stumble upon decimals, +where she was apt to get bewildered. She had no fears of grammar. She could +pick out the most obscure sentence and dissect a double relative with perfect +ease; then, as to geography, she could repeat whole pages of that, while in the +spelling-book, the foundation of a thorough education, as she had been taught, +she had no superiors, and but a very few equals. Still she would be very glad +when it was over, and she appointed Monday, both because it was close at hand, +and because that was the day her grandfather had set in which to ride to +Aikenside, in an adjoining town, and ask its young master for the loan of three +hundred dollars. +</p> + +<p> +He could hardly tell why he had thought of applying to Guy Remington for help, +unless it were that he once had saved the life of Guy’s father, who, as +long as he lived, had evinced a great regard for his benefactor, frequently +asserting that he meant to do something for him. But the something was never +done, the father was dead, and in his strait the old man turned to the son, +whom he knew to be very rich, and who he had been told was exceedingly +generous. +</p> + +<p> +“How I wish I could go with you clear up to Aikenside! They say +it’s so beautiful,” Madeline had said, as on Saturday evening they +sat discussing the expected events of the following Monday. “Mrs. Noah, +the housekeeper, had Sarah Jones there once, to sew, and she told me all about +it. There are graveled walks, and nice green lawns, and big, tall trees, and +flowers—oh! so many!—and marble fountains, with gold fishes in the +basin; and statues, big as folks, all over the yard, with two brass lions on +the gateposts. But the house is finest of all. There’s a drawing-room +bigger than a ballroom, with carpets that let your feet sink in so far; +pictures and mirrors clear to the floor—think of that, grandpa! a +looking-glass so tall that one can see the very bottom of their dress and know +just how it hangs. Oh, I do so wish I could have a peep at it! There are two in +one room, and the windows are like doors, with lace curtains; but what is +queerest of all, the chairs and sofas are covered with real silk, just like +that funny, gored gown of grandma’s up in the oak chest. Dear me! I +wonder if I’ll ever live in such a place as Aikenside?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, Maddy, no. Be satisfied with the lot where God has put you, and +don’t be longing after something higher, Our Father in heaven knows just +what is best for us; as He didn’t see fit to put you up at Aikenside, +’tain’t noways likely you’ll ever live in the like of +it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not unless I should happen to marry a rich man. Poor girls like me have +sometimes done that, haven’t they?” was Maddy’s demure reply. +</p> + +<p> +Grandpa Markham shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +“They have, but it’s mostly their ruination; so don’t build +castles in the air about this Guy Remington.” +</p> + +<p> +“Me! Oh, grandpa, I never dreamed of Mr. Guy!” and Madeline blushed +half indignantly. “He’s too rich, too aristocratic, though Sarah +said he didn’t act one bit proud, and was so pleasant, the servants all +worship him, and Mrs. Noah thinks him good enough for the Queen of England. I +shall think so, too, if he lets you have the money. How I wish it was Monday +night, so we could know sure!” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps we both shall be terribly disappointed,” suggested +grandpa, but Maddy was more hopeful. +</p> + +<p> +She, at least, would not fail, while what she had heard of Guy Remington, the +heir of Aikenside, made her believe that he would accede at once to her +grandpa’s request. +</p> + +<p> +All that night she was working to pay the debt, giving the money herself into +the hands of Guy Remington, whom she had never seen, but who came up in her +dreams the tall, handsome-looking man she had so often heard described by Sarah +Jones after her return from Aikenside. Even the next day, when, by her +grandparent’s side, Maddy knelt reverently in the small, time-worn church +at Honedale, her thoughts, it must be confessed, were wandering more to the +to-morrow and Aikenside, than to the sacred words her lips were uttering. She +knew it was wrong, and with a nervous start would try to bring her mind back +from decimal fractions to what the minister was saying; but Maddy was mortal, +and right in the midst of the Collect, Aikenside and its owner would rise +before her, together with the wonder how she and her grandfather would feel one +week from that Sabbath day. Would the desired certificate be hers? or would she +be disgraced forever and ever by a rejection? Would the mortgage be paid and +her grandfather at ease, or would his heart be breaking with the knowing he +must leave what had been his home for so many years? Not thus was it with the +aged disciple beside her—the good old man, whose white locks swept the +large lettered book over which his wrinkled face was bent, as he joined in the +responses, or said the prayers whose words had over him so soothing an +influence, carrying his thoughts upward to the house not made with hands, which +he felt assured would one day be his. Once or twice, it is true, thoughts of +losing the dear old red cottage flitted across his mind with a keen, sudden +pang, but he put it quickly aside, remembering at the same instant how the +Father he loved doeth all things well to such as are His children. Grandpa +Markham was old in the Christian course, while Maddy could hardly be said to +have commenced as yet, and so to her that April Sunday was long and wearisome. +How she did wish she might just look over the geography, by way of refreshing +her memory, or see exactly how the rule for extracting the cube root did read, +but Maddy forebore, reading only the Pilgrim’s Progress, the Bible, and +the book brought from the Sunday school. +</p> + +<p> +With the earliest dawn, however, she was up, and her grandmother heard her +repeating to herself much of what she dreaded Dr. Holbrook might question her +upon. Even when bending over the washtub, for there were no servants at the red +cottage, a book was arranged before her so that she could study with her eyes, +while her small, fat hands and dimpled arms were busy in the suds. Before ten +o’clock everything was done, the clothes, white as the snowdrops in the +garden beds, were swinging on the line, the kitchen floor was scrubbed, the +windows washed, the best room swept, the vegetables cleaned for dinner, and +then Maddy’s work was finished. “Grandma could do all the +rest,” she said, and Madeline was free “to put her eyes out over +them big books if she liked.” +</p> + +<p> +Swiftly flew the hours until it was time to be getting ready, when again the +short hair was deplored, as before her looking-glass Madeline brushed and +arranged her shining, beautiful locks. Would Dr. Holbrook think of her age? +Suppose he should ask it. But no, he wouldn’t. If Mr. Green thought her +old enough, surely it was not a matter with which the doctor need trouble +himself; and, somewhat at ease on that point, Madeline donned her longest +frock, and, standing in a chair, tried to discover how much of her pantalets +was visible. +</p> + +<p> +“I could see splendidly in Mr. Remington’s mirrors,” she said +to herself, with a half sigh of regret that her lot had not been cast in some +such place as Aikenside, instead of there beneath the hill in that wee bit of a +cottage, whose rear slanted back until it almost touched the ground. +“After all, I guess I’m happier here,” she thought. +“Everybody likes me, while if I were Mr. Guy’s sister and lived at +Aikenside, I might be proud and wicked, and—” +</p> + +<p> +She did not finish the sentence, but somehow the story of Dives and Lazarus, +read by her grandfather that morning, recurred to her mind, and feeling how +much rather she would rest in Abraham’s bosom than share the fate of him +who once was clothed in purple and fine linen she pinned on her little neat +plaid shawl, and, tying the blue ribbons of her coarse straw hat, glanced once +more at the formidable cube root, and then hurried down to where her +grandfather and old Sorrel were waiting for her. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall be so happy when I come back, because it will then be over, just +like having a tooth out, you know,” she said to her grandmother, who bent +down for the good-by kiss without which Maddy never left her. “Now, +grandpa, drive on; I was to be there at three,” and chirruping herself to +Sorrel, the impatient Madge went riding from the cottage door, chatting +cheerily until the village of Devonshire was reached; then, with a farewell to +her grandfather, who never dreamed that the man whom he was seeking was so +near, she tripped up the flagging walk, and, as we have seen, soon stood in the +presence of not only Dr. Holbrook, but also of Guy Remington. +</p> + +<p> +Poor, poor little Madge! +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap03"></a>CHAPTER III.<br/> +THE EXAMINATION.</h2> + +<p> +It was Guy who received her, Guy who pointed to a chair, Guy who seemed +perfectly at home, and, naturally enough, she took him for Dr. Holbrook, +wondering who the other black-haired man could be, and if he meant to stay in +there all the while. It would be very dreadful if he did, and in her agitation +and excitement the cube root was in danger of being altogether forgotten. Half +guessing the cause of her uneasiness, and feeling more averse than ever to +taking part in the matter, the doctor, after a hasty survey of her person, +withdrew into the background, and sat where he could not be seen. This brought +the short dress into full view, together with the dainty little foot, nervously +beating the floor. +</p> + +<p> +“She’s very young,” he thought; “too young, by +far,” and Maddy’s chances of success were beginning to decline even +before a word had been spoken. +</p> + +<p> +How terribly still it was for the time, during which telegraphic communications +were silently passing between Guy and the doctor, the latter shaking his head +decidedly, while the former insisted that he should do his duty. Madeline could +almost hear the beatings of her heart, and only by counting and recounting the +poplar trees growing across the street could she keep back the tears. What was +he waiting for, she wondered, and, at last, summoning all her courage, she +lifted her great brown eyes to Guy, and said, pleadingly: +</p> + +<p> +“Would you be so kind, sir, as to begin?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, certainly,” and electrified by that young, bird-like voice, +the sweetest save one he had ever heard, Guy knocked down from the pile of +books the only one at all appropriate to the occasion, the others being as far +beyond what was taught in the district schools as his classical education was +beyond Madeline’s common one. +</p> + +<p> +Remembering that the teacher of whom he had once been for a week a pupil, in +the town of Framingham, had commenced operations by sharpening a lead pencil, +so he now sharpened a similar one, determining as far as he could to follow +that teacher’s example. Maddy counted every fragment as it fell upon the +floor, wishing so much that he would commence, and fancying that it would not +be half so bad to have him approach her with some one of those terrible dental +instruments lying before her, as it was to sit and wait as she was waiting. Had +Guy Remington reflected a little, he would never have consented to do the +doctor’s work; but, unaccustomed to country usages, especially those +pertaining to schools and teachers, he did not consider that it mattered which +examined that young girl, himself or Dr. Holbrook. Viewing it somewhat in the +light of a joke, he rather enjoyed it; and as the Framingham teacher had first +asked her pupils their names and ages, so he, when the pencil was sharpened +sufficiently, startled Madeline by asking her name. +</p> + +<p> +“Madeline Amelia Clyde,” was the meek reply, which Guy quickly +recorded. +</p> + +<p> +Now, Guy Remington intended no irreverence; indeed, he could not tell what he +did intend, or what it was which prompted his next query: +</p> + +<p> +“Who gave you this name?” +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps he fancied himself a boy again in the Sunday school, and standing +before the railing of the altar, where, with others of his age, he had been +asked the question propounded to Madeline Clyde, who did not hear the +doctor’s smothered laugh as he retreated into the adjoining room. +</p> + +<p> +In all her preconceived ideas of this examination, she had never dreamed of +being catechised, and with a feeling of terror as she thought of that long +answer to the question, “What is thy duty to thy neighbor?” and +doubted her ability to repeat it, she said: “My sponsors, in baptism gave +me the first name of Madeline Amelia, sir,” adding, as she caught and +misconstrued the strange gleam in the dark eyes bent upon her, “I am +afraid I have forgotten some of the catechism; I did not know it was necessary +in order to teach school.” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly, no; I do not think it is. I beg your pardon,” were Guy +Remington’s ejaculatory replies, as he glanced from Madeline to the open +door of the adjoining room, where was visible a slate, on which, in huge +letters, the amused doctor had written “Blockhead.” +</p> + +<p> +There was something in Madeline’s quiet, womanly, earnest manner which +commanded Guy’s respect, or he would have given vent to the laughter +which was choking him, and thrown off his disguise. But he could not bear now +to undeceive her, and, resolutely turning his back upon the doctor, he sat down +by that pile of books and commenced the examination in earnest, asking first +her age. +</p> + +<p> +“Going on fifteen,” sounded older to Madeline than “Fourteen +and a half,” so “Going on fifteen” was the reply, to which +Guy responded: “That is very young, Miss Clyde.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but Mr. Green did not mind. He’s the committeeman. He knew +how young I was,” Madeline said, eagerly, her great brown eyes growing +large with the look of fear which came so suddenly into them. +</p> + +<p> +Guy noticed the eyes then, and thought them very bright and handsome for brown, +but not so bright or handsome as a certain pair of soft blue orbs he knew, and +feeling a thrill of satisfaction that sweet Lucy Atherstone was not obliged to +sit there in that doctor’s office to be questioned by him or any other +man, he said: “Of course, if your employers are satisfied it is nothing +to me, only I had associated teaching with women much older than yourself. What +is logic, Miss Clyde?” +</p> + +<p> +The abruptness with which he put the question startled Madeline to such a +degree that she could not positively tell whether she had ever heard that word +before, much less could she recall its meaning, and so she answered frankly, +“I don’t know.” +</p> + +<p> +A girl who did not know what logic was did not know much, in Guy’s +estimation, but it would not do to stop here, and so he asked her next how many +cases there were in Latin! +</p> + +<p> +Maddy felt the hot blood tingling to her very fingertips, the examination had +taken a course so widely different from her ideas of what it would probably be. +She had never looked inside a Latin grammar, and again her truthful “I +don’t know, sir,” fell on Guy’s ear, but this time there was +a half despairing tone in the young voice usually so hopeful. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps, then, you can conjugate the verb <i>Amo,</i>” Guy said, +his manner indicating the doubt he was beginning to feel as to her +qualifications. +</p> + +<p> +Maddy knew well what “conjugate” meant, but that verb <i>Amo</i>, +what could it mean? and had she ever heard it before? Mr. Remington was waiting +for her; she must say something, and with a gasp she began: “I amo, thou +amoest, he amoes. Plural: We amo, ye or you amo, they amo.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy looked at her aghast for a single moment, and then a comical smile broke +all over his face, telling poor Maddy plainer than words could have done, that +she had made a most ridiculous mistake. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, sir,” she cried, her eyes wearing the look of the frightened +hare, “it is not right. I don’t know what it means. Tell me, teach +me. What is it to amo?” +</p> + +<p> +To most men it would not have seemed a very disagreeable task, teaching young +Madeline Clyde “to amo,” as she termed it, and some such idea +flitted across Guy’s mind, as he thought how pretty and bright was the +eager face upturned to his, the pure white forehead, suffused with a faint +flush, the cheeks a crimson hue, and the pale lips parted slightly as Maddy +appealed to him for the definition of “amo.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is a Latin verb, and means ‘to love’” Guy said, +with an emphasis on the last word, which would have made Maddy blush had she +been less anxious and frightened. +</p> + +<p> +Thus far she had answered nothing correctly, and, feeling puzzled to know how +to proceed, Guy stepped into the adjoining room to consult with the doctor, but +he was gone. So returning again to Madeline, Guy resumed the examination by +asking her how “minus into minus could produce plus.” +</p> + +<p> +Again Maddy was at fault, and her low-spoken “I don’t know” +sounded like a wail of despair. Did she know anything, Guy wondered, and +feeling some curiosity now to ascertain that fact, he plied her with questions +philosophical, questions algebraical, and questions geometrical, until in an +agony of distress Maddy raised her hands deprecatingly, as if she would ward +off any similar questions, and sobbed out: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, sir, no more. It makes my head so dizzy. They don’t teach that +in common schools. Ask me something I do know.” +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly it occurred to Guy that he had gone entirely wrong, and mentally +cursing himself for the blockhead the doctor had called him, he asked, kindly: +</p> + +<p> +“What do they teach? Perhaps you can enlighten me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Geography, arithmetic, grammar, history, and spelling-book,” +Madeline replied, untying and throwing off her bonnet, in the vain hope that it +might bring relief to her poor, giddy head, which throbbed so fearfully that +all her ideas seemed for the time to have left her. +</p> + +<p> +This was a natural consequence of the high excitement under which she was +laboring, and so, when Guy did ask her concerning the books designated, she +answered but little better than before, and Guy was wondering what he should do +next, when the doctor’s welcome step was heard, and leaving Madeline +again, he repaired to the next room to report his ill success. +</p> + +<p> +“She does not seem to know anything. The veriest child ought to do better +than she has done. Why, she has scarcely answered half a dozen questions +correctly.” +</p> + +<p> +This was what poor Maddy heard, though it was spoken in a low whisper; but +every word was distinctly understood and burned into her heart’s core, +drying her tears and hardening her into a block of marble. She knew that Guy +had not done her justice, and this helped to increase the torpor stealing over +her. Still she did not lose a syllable of what was saying in the back office, +and her lip curled scornfully when she heard Guy remark: “I pity her; she +is so young, and evidently takes it so hard. Maybe she’s as good as they +average. Suppose we give her the certificate.” +</p> + +<p> +Then Dr. Holbrook spoke, but to poor, dazed Maddy his words were all a riddle. +It was nothing to him—who was he that he should be dictating thus? There +seemed to be a difference of opinion between the young men, Guy insisting that +out of pity she should not be rejected; and the doctor demurring on the ground +that he ought to be more strict. As usual, Guy overruled, and seating himself +at the table, the doctor was just commencing: “I hereby +certify—” while Guy was bending over him, when the latter was +startled by a hand laid firmly on his arm, and turning quickly he confronted +Madeline Clyde, who, with her short hair pushed from her blue-veined forehead, +her face as pale as ashes, save where a round spot of purplish red burned upon +her cheeks, and her eyes gleaming like coals of fire, stood before him. +</p> + +<p> +“He need not write that,” she said, huskily, pointing to the +doctor, “It would be a lie, and I could not take it. You do not think me +qualified. I heard you say so. I do not want to be pitied. I do not want a +certificate because I am so young, and you think I’ll feel badly. I do +not want—” +</p> + +<p> +Her voice failed her, her bosom heaved, and the choking sobs came thick and +fast, but still she shed no tear, and in her bright, dry eyes there was a look +which made both those young men turn away involuntarily. Once Guy tried to +excuse her failure, saying she no doubt was frightened. She would probably do +better again, and might as well accept the certificate, but Madeline still said +no, so decidedly that further remonstrance was useless. She would not take what +she had no right to, she said, but if they pleased she would wait there in the +back office until her grandfather came back; it would not be long, and she +should not trouble them. +</p> + +<p> +Guy brought her the easy-chair from the front room and placed it for her by the +window. With a faint smile she thanked him and said: “You are very +kind,” but the smile hurt Guy cruelly, it was so sad, so full of +unintentional reproach, while the eyes she lifted to his looked so grieved and +weary that he insensibly murmured to himself: “Poor child!” as he +left her, and with the doctor repaired to the house, where Agnes was +impatiently waiting for them. Poor, poor little Madge! Let those smile who may +at her distress; it was the first keen disappointment she had ever had, and it +crushed her as completely as many an older person has been crushed by heavier +calamities. +</p> + +<p> +“Disgraced for ever and ever,” she kept repeating to herself, as +she tried to shake off the horrid nightmare stealing over her. “How can I +hold up my head again at home where nobody will understand just how it was; +nobody but grandpa and grandma? Oh, grandpa, I can’t earn that thirty-six +dollars now. I most wish I was dead, and I am—I am dying. +Somebody—come—quick!” +</p> + +<p> +There was a heavy fall, and while in Mrs. Conner’s parlor Guy Remington +and Dr. Holbrook were chatting gayly with Agnes, a childish figure was lying +upon the office floor, white, stiff, and insensible. +</p> + +<p> +Little Jessie Remington, tired of sitting still and listening to what her mamma +and Mrs. Conner were saying, had strayed off into the garden, and after filling +her chubby hands with daffodils and early violets, wended her way to the +office, the door of which was partially ajar. Peering curiously in, she saw the +crumpled bonnet, with its ribbons of blue, and, attracted by this, advanced +into the room, until she came where Madeline was lying. With a feeling that +something was wrong, Jessie bent over the prostrate girl, asking if she were +asleep, and lifting next the long, fringed lashes drooping on the colorless +cheek. The dull, dead expression of the eyes sent a chill through +Jessie’s frame, and hurrying to the house she cried: “Oh, Brother +Guy, somebody’s dead in the office, and her bonnet is all jammed!” +</p> + +<p> +Scarcely were the words uttered ere Guy and the doctor both were with Madeline, +the former holding her tenderly in his arms, while he smoothed the short hair, +thinking even then how soft and luxuriant it was, and how fair was the face +which never moved a muscle beneath his scrutiny. The doctor was wholly +self-possessed. Maddy had no terrors for him now. She needed his services, and +he rendered them willingly, applying restoratives which soon brought back signs +of life in the rigid form. With a shiver and a moan Madeline whispered: +“Oh, grandma, I’m so tired,” and nestled closer to the bosom +where she had never dreamed of lying. +</p> + +<p> +By this time both Mrs. Conner and Agnes had come out, asking in much surprise +who the stranger could be, and what was the cause of her illness. As if there +had been a previous understanding between them, the doctor and Guy were silent +with regard to the recent farce enacted there, simply saying it was possible +she was in the habit of fainting; many people were. Very daintily, Agnes held +up and back the skirt of her rich silk as if fearful that it might come in +contact with Madeline’s plain delaine; then, as it was not very +interesting for her to stand and see the doctor “make so much fuss over a +young girl,” as she mentally expressed it, she returned to the house, +bidding Jessie do the same. But Jessie refused, choosing to stay by Madeline, +whom they placed upon the comfortable lounge, which she preferred to being +taken to the house, as Guy proposed. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m better now, much better,” she said. “Leave me, +please. I’d rather be alone.” +</p> + +<p> +So they left her, all but Jessie, who, fascinated by the sweet young face, +climbed upon the lounge and, laying her curly head caressingly against +Madeline’s arm, said to her: “Poor girl, you’re sick, and I +am so sorry. What makes you sick?” +</p> + +<p> +There was genuine sympathy in that little voice, and it opened the pent-up +flood beating so furiously, and roused Maddy’s heart. With a cry as of +sudden pain she clasped the child in her arms and wept out a wild, stormy fit +of weeping which did her so much good. Forgetting that Jessie could not +understand, and feeling it a relief to tell her grief to some one, she said, in +reply to Jessie’s oft repeated inquiries as to what was the matter: +“I did not get a certificate, and I wanted it so much, for we are poor, +and our house is mortgaged, and I was going to help grandpa pay it.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s dreadful to be poor!” sighed little Jessie, as her +waxen fingers threaded the soft, nut-brown hair resting in her lap, where Maddy +had lain her aching head. +</p> + +<p> +Maddy did not know who this beautiful child was, but her sympathy was very +sweet, and they talked together as children will, until Mrs. Agnes’ voice +was heard calling to her little girl that it was time to go. +</p> + +<p> +“I love you, Maddy, and I mean to tell brother about it,” Jessie +said, as she wound her arms around Madeline’s neck and kissed her at +parting. +</p> + +<p> +It never occurred to Maddy to ask her name, so stupified she felt, and with a +responsive kiss she sent her away. Leaning her head upon the table, she forgot +all but her own wretchedness, and so did not see the gayly-dressed, +haughty-looking lady who swept past the door, accompanied by Guy and Dr. +Holbrook. Neither did she hear, or notice, if she did, the hum of their voices +as they talked together for a moment, Agnes asking the doctor very prettily to +come up to Aikenside while she was there, and bring his ladylove. Engaged young +men like Guy were so stupid, she said, as with a merry laugh she sprang into +the carriage; and, bowing gracefully to the doctor, was driven rapidly toward +Aikenside. +</p> + +<p> +Rather slowly the doctor returned to the office, and after fidgeting for a time +among the powders and phials, summoned courage to ask Madeline how she felt, +and if any of the fainting symptoms had returned. +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir,” was all the reply she gave him, never lifting up her +head, or even thinking which of the two young men it was speaking to her. +</p> + +<p> +There was a call just then for Dr. Holbrook, and leaving his office in charge +of Tom, his chore boy, he went away, feeling slightly uncomfortable whenever he +thought of the girl to whom he felt that justice had not been done. +</p> + +<p> +“I half wish I had examined her myself,” he said. “Of course +she was excited, and could not answer; beside, hanged if I don’t believe +it was all humbug tormenting her with Greek and Latin. Yes; I’ll question +her when I get back, and if she’ll possibly pass, give her the +certificate. Poor child; how white she was, and what a queer look there was in +those great eyes, when she said: ‘I shall not take it.’” +</p> + +<p> +Never in his life before had Dr. Holbrook been as much interested in any female +who was not sick as he was in Madeline, and determining to make his call on +Mrs. Briggs as brief as possible, he alighted at her gate, and knocked +impatiently at her door. He found her pretty sick, while both her children +needed a prescription, and so long a time was he detained that his heart +misgave him on his homeward route, lest Maddy should be gone, and with her the +chance to remedy the wrong he might have done her. +</p> + +<p> +Maddy was gone, and the wheel ruts of the square-boxed wagon were fresh before +the door when he came back. Grandpa Markham had returned, and Madeline, who +recognized old Sorrel’s step, had gathered her shawl around her and gone +sadly out to meet him. One look at her face was sufficient. +</p> + +<p> +“You failed, Maddy?” the old man said, fixing about her feet the +warm buffalo robe, for the night wind was blowing cool. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, grandpa, I failed.” +</p> + +<p> +They were out of the village and more than a mile on their way home before +Madeline found voice to say so much, and they were nearer home by half a mile +ere the old man answered back: +</p> + +<p> +“And, Maddy, I failed too.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap04"></a>CHAPTER IV.<br/> +GRANDPA MARKHAM.</h2> + +<p> +Mrs. Noah, the housekeeper at Aikenside, was slicing vegetable oysters for the +nice little dish intended for her own supper, when the head of Sorrel came +around the corner of the building, followed by the square-boxed wagon +containing Grandpa Markham, who, bewildered by the beauty and spaciousness of +the grounds, and wholly uncertain as to where he ought to stop, had driven over +the smooth-graveled road around to the front kitchen door, Mrs. Noah’s +spacious domain, as sacred as Betsey Trotwood’s patch of green. +</p> + +<p> +“In the name of wonder, what codger is that? and what is he doing +here?” was Mrs. Noah’s exclamation, as she dropped the bit of +salsify she was scraping, and hurrying to the door, called out: “I say, +you, sir, what made you drive up here, when I’ve said over and over +again, that I wouldn’t have wheels tearing up turf and gravel?” +</p> + +<p> +“I—I beg your pardon. I lost my way, I guess, there was so many +turnin’s, I’m sorry, but a little rain will fetch it right,” +grandpa said, glancing ruefully at the ruts in the gravel and the marks on the +turf. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Noah was not at heart an unkind woman, and something in the benignant +expression of grandpa’s face, or in the apologetic tone of his voice, +mollified her somewhat, and without further comment she stood waiting for his +next remark. It was a most unfortunate one, for though as free from weakness as +most of her sex, Mrs. Noah was terribly sensitive as to her age, and the same +census-taker would never venture twice within her precincts. Glancing at her +dress, which was this leisure afternoon much smarter than usual, grandpa +concluded she could not be a servant; and as she seemed to have a right to say +where he should drive and where he should not, the meek old man concluded she +was a near relation of Guy—mother, perhaps; but no, Guy’s mother +was dead, as grandpa well knew, for all Devonshire had heard of the young bride +Agnes, who had married Guy’s father for money and rank. To have been +mistaken for Guy’s mother would not have offended Mrs. Noah particularly; +but how was she shocked when Grandpa Markham said: +</p> + +<p> +“I come on business with Squire Guy. Are you his gran’marm?” +“His gran’marm!” and Mrs. Noah bit off the last syllable +spitefully. “Bless you, man, Squire Guy, as you call him, is twenty-five +years old.” +</p> + +<p> +As Grandpa Markham was rather blind, he failed to see the point, but knew that +in some way he had given offense. +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon, ma’am; I was sure you was some kin—maybe +an a’nt.” +</p> + +<p> +No, she was not even that; but willing enough to let the old man believe her a +lady of the Remington order, she did not explain that she was simply the +housekeeper, she simply said: +</p> + +<p> +“If it’s Mr. Guy you want, I can tell you he is not at home, which +will save your getting out.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at home, and I’ve come so far to see him!” grandpa +exclaimed, and in his voice there was so much genuine disappointment that Mrs. +Noah rejoined, quite kindly: +</p> + +<p> +“He’s gone over to Devonshire with the young lady his stepmother. +Perhaps you might tell your business to me; I know all Mr. Guy’s +affairs.” +</p> + +<p> +“If I might come in, ma’am,” he answered, meekly, as through +the open door he caught glimpses of a cheerful fire. “It’s mighty +chilly for such as me.” He did look cold and blue, Mrs. Noah thought, and +she bade him come in, feeling a very little contempt for the old-fashioned +camlet cloak in which his feet became entangled, and smiling inwardly at the +shrunken, faded pantaloons, betokening poverty. +</p> + +<p> +“As you know all Squire Guy’s affairs,” grandpa said, when he +was seated before the fire, “maybe you could tell whether he would be +likely to lend a stranger three hundred dollars, and that stranger me?” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Noah stared at him aghast. Was he crazy, or did he mean to insult her +master? Evidently neither. He seemed as sane as herself, while no one could +associate an insult with him. He did not know anything. That was the solution +of his audacity, and pityingly, as she would have addressed a half idiot, Mrs. +Noah made him understand how impossible it was for him to think her master +would lend to a stranger like him. +</p> + +<p> +“You say he’s gone to Devonshire,” grandpa said, softly, with +a quiver on his lip when she had finished. “I wish I’d knew it; I +left my granddarter there to be examined. Mabby I’ll meet him going back, +and can ask him.” +</p> + +<p> +“I tell you it won’t be no use. Mr. Guy has no three hundred +dollars to throw away,” was Mrs. Noah’s rather sharp rejoinder. +</p> + +<p> +“Wall, wall, we won’t quarrel about it,” the old man replied, +in his most conciliatory manner, as he turned his head away to hide the +starting tear. +</p> + +<p> +Grandfather Markham’s heart was very sore, and Mrs. Noah’s +harshness troubled him. He could not bear to think that she really was cross +with him, besides that he wanted something to carry Maddy besides +disappointment, so by way of testing Mrs. Noah’s amiability and pleasing +Maddy, too, he said, as he arose: “I’m an old man, lady, old enough +to be your father.” Here Mrs. Noah’s face grew brighter, and she +listened attentively while he continued: “You won’t take what I say +amiss, I’m sure. I have a little girl at home, a grandchild, who has +heard big stories of the fine things at Aikenside. She has a hankerin’ +after such vanities, and it would please her mightily to have me tell her what +I saw up here, so maybe you wouldn’t mind lettin’ me go into that +big room where the silk fixin’s are. I’ll take off my shoes, if you +say so.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your shoes won’t hurt an atom; come right along,” Mrs. Noah +replied, now in the best of moods, for, except her cup of green tea with +raspberry jam and cream, she enjoyed nothing more than showing their handsome +house. +</p> + +<p> +Conducting him through the wide, marbled hall, she ushered him into the +drawing-room, where for a time he stood perfectly bewildered. It was his first +introduction to rosewood, velvet, and brocatelle, and it seemed to him as if he +had suddenly been transported to fairy-land. +</p> + +<p> +“Maddy would like this—it’s her nature,” he whispered, +advancing a step or two, and setting down his feet as softly as if stepping on +eggs. +</p> + +<p> +Happening to lift his eyes before one of the long mirrors, he spied himself, +wondering much what that “queer-looking chap” was doing there in +the midst of so much elegance, and why Mrs. Noah did not turn him out! Then +mentally asking forgiveness for this flash of pride, and determined to make +amends, he bowed low to the figure in the glass, which bowed as low in return, +but did not reply to the very good-natured remark: “How d’ye +do—pretty well, to-day?” +</p> + +<p> +There was a familiar look about the round cape of the camlet cloak, and Grandpa +Markham’s face turned crimson as the truth burst upon him. +</p> + +<p> +“How ’shamed of me Maddy would be,” he thought, glancing +sidewise at Mrs. Noah, who had witnessed the blunder, and was now looking from +the window to hide her laughter. +</p> + +<p> +Grandpa believed she did not see him, and comforted with that assurance, he +began to remark upon the mirror, saying “it made it appear as if there +was two of you,” a remark which Mrs. Noah fully appreciated. He saw the +silk chairs, slyly touching one to see if it did feel like the gored, +peach-blossom dress worn by his wife forty-two years ago that very spring. Then +he tried one of them, examined the rare ornaments, and came near bowing again +to the portrait of the first Mrs. Remington, so natural and lifelike it looked +standing out from the canvas. +</p> + +<p> +“This will last Maddy a week. I thank you, ma’am. You have added +some considerable to the happiness of a young girl, who wouldn’t disgrace +even such a room as this,” he said, as he passed into the hall. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Noah received his thanks graciously, and led him to the yard, where Sorrel +stood waiting for him. +</p> + +<p> +“Odd, but clever as the day is long,” was Mrs. Noah’s +comment, as, after seeing him safe out of her yard, she went back to her +vegetable oysters boiling on the stove. +</p> + +<p> +Driving at a brisk trot through the grounds, Sorrel was soon out upon the +highway; and with spirits exhilarated by thoughts of going home, he kept up the +trot until, turning a sudden corner, his master saw the carriage from Aikenside +approaching at a rapid rate. The driver, Paul, saw him too, but scorning to +give half the road to such as Sorrel and the square-boxed wagons, he kept +steadily on, while Grandpa Markham, determined to speak with Guy, reined his +horse a little nearer, raising his hand in token that the negro should stop. As +a natural consequence, the wheels of the two vehicles became interlocked, and +as the powerful grays were more than a match for Sorrel, the front wheel of +Grandpa Markham’s wagon was wrenched off, and the old man precipitated to +the ground; which, fortunately for him, was in that locality covered with sand +banks, so that he was only stunned for an instant, and thus failed to hear the +insolent negro’s remark: “Served you right, old cove; might of +turned out for gentlemen;” neither did he see the sudden flashing of Guy +Remington’s eye, as, leaping from his carriage, he seized the astonished +African by the collar, and, hurling him from the box, demanded what he meant by +serving an old man so shameful a trick and then insulting him. +</p> + +<p> +All apology and regret, the cringing driver tried to make some excuse, but Guy +stopped him short, telling him to see how much the wagon was damaged, while he +ran to the old man, who had recovered from the first shock and was trying to +extricate himself from the folds of his camlet cloak. Nearby was a +blacksmith’s shop, and thither Guy ordered his driver to take the +broken-down wagon with a view to getting it repaired. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell him I want it done at once.” he said, authoritatively, as if +he well knew his name carried weight with it; then, turning to grandpa, he +asked again if he were hurt. +</p> + +<p> +“No, not specially—jolted my old bones some. You are very kind, +sir,” grandpa replied, brushing the dust from his pantaloons and then +involuntarily grasping Guy’s arm for support, as his weak knees began to +tremble from the effects of excitement and fright. +</p> + +<p> +“That darky shall rue this job,” Guy said, savagely, as he gazed +pityingly upon the shaky old creature beside him. “I’ll discharge +him to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, young man. Don’t be rash. He’ll never do’t again; +and sprigs like him think they’ve a right to make fun of old codgers like +me,” was grandpa’s meek expostulation. +</p> + +<p> +“Do, pray, Guy, how long must we wait here?” Agnes asked, +impatiently, leaning back in the carriage and partially drawing her veil over +her face as she glanced at Grandpa Markham, but a look from Guy silenced her; +and turning again to grandpa, he asked: +</p> + +<p> +“What did you say? You have been to Aikenside to see me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, and I was sorry to miss you. I—I—it makes me feel +awkward to tell you, but I wanted to borrow some money, and I didn’t know +nobody as likely to have it as you. That woman up to your house said she knowed +you wouldn’t let me have it, ’cause you hadn’t it to spare. +Mebby you haven’t,” and grandpa waited anxiously for Guy’s +reply. +</p> + +<p> +Now, Mrs. Noah had a singular influence over her young master, who was in the +habit of consulting her with regard to his affairs, and nothing could have been +more unpropitious to the success of grandpa’s suit than the knowing she +disapproved. Beside this, Guy had only the previous week lost a small amount +loaned under similar circumstances. Standing silent for a moment, while he +buried and reburied his shining patent leather boots in the hills of sand, he +said at last: “Candidly, sir, I don’t believe I can accommodate +you. I am about to make repairs at Aikenside, and have partially promised to +loan money on good security to a Mr. Silas Slocum, who, ‘if things work +right,’ as he expressed it, intends building a mill on some property +which has come, or is coming, into his hands.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s mine—that’s mine, my homestead,” gasped +grandpa, turning white almost as his hair blowing in the April wind. +“There’s a stream of water on it, and he says if he forecloses and +gets it he shall build a mill, and tear our old house down.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy was in a dilemma. He had not asked how much Mr. Markham wanted, and as the +latter had not told him, he naturally concluded it a much larger sum than it +really was, and did not care just then to lend it. +</p> + +<p> +“I tell you what I’ll do,” he said, after a little. +“I’ll drop Slocum a note to-night saying I’ve changed my +mind, and shall not let him have the money. Perhaps, then, he won’t be so +anxious to foreclose, and will give you time to look among your friends.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy laid a little emphasis on that last word, and looking up quickly grandpa +was about to say: “I am not so much a stranger as you think. I knew your +father well;” but he checked himself with the thought: “No, that +will be too much like begging pay for a deed of mercy done years ago.” So +Guy never suspected that the old man before him had once laid his sire under a +debt of gratitude. The more he reflected the less inclined he was to lend the +money, and as grandpa was too timid to urge his needs, the result was that when +at last the wheel was replaced, and Sorrel again trotting on toward Devonshire, +he drew after him a sad, heavy heart, and not once until the village was +reached did he hear the cheery chuckle with which his kind master was wont to +encourage him. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor Maddy! I dread tellin’ her the most, she was so sure,” +grandpa whispered, as he stopped before the office door, where Maddy waited for +him. +</p> + +<p> +But Maddy’s disappointment was keener than his own, and so after the +sorrowful words, “and I failed, too,” he bent himself to comfort +the poor child, who, leaning her throbbing head against his shoulder, sobbed +bitterly, as in the soft spring twilight they drove back to the low red cottage +where grandma waited for them. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap05"></a>CHAPTER V.<br/> +THE RESULT.</h2> + +<p> +It was Farmer Green’s new buggy and Farmer Green’s bay colt which, +three days later than this, stopped before Dr. Holbrook’s office. Not the +square-boxed wagon, with old Sorrel attached; the former was standing quietly +in the chip-yard behind the low red house, while the latter with his nose over +the barnyard fence, neighing occasionally, as if he missed the little hands +which had daily fed him the oatmeal he liked so much, and which now lay hot and +parched and helpless upon the white counterpane Grandma Markham had spun and +woven herself. Maddy might have been just as sick as she was if the examination +had never occurred, but it was natural for those who loved her to impute it all +to the effects of excitement and cruel disappointment, so there was something +like indignation mingling with the sorrow gnawing at the hearts of the old +couple as they watched by their fever-stricken darling. Farmer Green, too, +shared the feeling, and numerous at first were his mental animadversions +against that “prig of a Holbrook.” But when Maddy grew so bad as +not to know him or his wife, he laid aside his prejudices, and suggested to +Grandpa Markham that Dr. Holbrook be sent for. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s great on fevers,” he said, “and is good on +curin’ sick folks,” so, though he would have preferred some one +else should have been called, confidence in the young doctor’s skill won +the day, and grandpa consented. +</p> + +<p> +This, then, was the errand of Farmer Green, and with his usual bluntness, he +said to the recreant doctor, who chanced to be at home: +</p> + +<p> +“Wall, you nigh about killed our little Madge t’other day, when you +refused the stifficut, and now we want you to cure her.” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor looked up in surprise, but Farmer Green soon explained his meaning, +making out a most aggravated case, and representing Maddy as wild with +delirium. +</p> + +<p> +“Keeps talkin’ about the big books, the Latin and the Hebrew, and +even the Catechism, as if such like was ’lowed in our school. I +s’pose you didn’t know no better; but if Maddy dies, you’ll +have it to answer for, I reckon.” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor did not try to excuse himself, but hastily took down the medicines +he thought he might need, and stowed them carefully away. He had expected to +hear from that examination, but not in this way, and rather nervously he made +some inquiries, as to how long she had been ill, and so forth. +</p> + +<p> +Maddy’s case lost nothing by Mr. Green’s account, and by the time +the doctor’s horse was ready, and he on his way to the cottage, he had +arrived at the conclusion that of all the villainous men outside the walls of +the State’s prison, he was the most villainous, and Guy Remington next. +</p> + +<p> +What a cozy little chamber it was where Maddy lay, just such a room as a girl +like her might be supposed to occupy, and the bachelor doctor felt like +treading upon forbidden ground as he entered the room so rife with girlish +habits, from the fairy slippers hung on a peg, to the fanciful little workbox +made of cones and acorns. Maddy was asleep, and sitting down beside her, he +asked that the shawl which had been pinned across the window might be removed +so that he could see her, and thus judge better of her condition. They took the +shawl away, and the sunlight came streaming in, disclosing to the +doctor’s view the face never before seen distinctly, or thought about, if +seen. It was ghastly pale, save where the hot blood seemed bursting through the +cheeks, while the beautiful brown hair was brushed back from the brow where the +veins were swollen and full. The lips were slightly apart, and the hot breath +came in quick, panting gasps, while occasionally a faint moan escaped them, and +once the doctor heard, or thought he heard, the sound of his own name. One +little dimpled hand lay upon the bedspread, but the doctor did not touch it. +Ordinarily he would have grasped it as readily as if it had been a piece of +marble, but the sight of Maddy, lying there so sick, and the fearing he had +helped to bring her where she was, awoke to life a curious state of feeling +with regard to her, making him almost as nervous as on the day when she +appeared before him as candidate No. 1. +</p> + +<p> +“Feel her pulse, doctor; they are faster most than you can count,” +Grandma Markham whispered; and thus entreated, the doctor took the soft hand in +his own, its touch sending through his frame a thrill such as the touch of no +other hand had ever sent. +</p> + +<p> +Somehow the act reassured him. All fear of Maddy vanished, leaving behind only +an intense desire to help, if possible, the young girl whose fingers seemed to +cling around his own as he felt for and found the rapid pulse. +</p> + +<p> +“If she could awaken,” he said, laying the hand softly down and +placing his other upon her forehead, where the great sweat drops lay. +</p> + +<p> +And, after a time, Maddy did awaken, but in the eyes fixed, for a moment, so +intently on him, there was no look of recognition, and the doctor was half glad +that it was so. He did not wish her to associate him with her late disastrous +disappointment; he would rather she should think of him as some one come to +cure her, for cure her he would, he said to himself, as he gazed into her +childish face and thought how sad it was for such as she to die. When first he +entered the cottage he had been struck with the extreme plainness of the +furniture, betokening that wealth had not there an abiding place, but now he +forgot everything except the sick girl, who grew more and more restless, +talking of him and the Latin verb which meant “to love,” she said, +and which was not in the grammar. +</p> + +<p> +“Guy was a fool and I was a brute,” the doctor muttered, as he +folded up the bits of paper whose contents he hoped might do much toward saving +Maddy’s life. +</p> + +<p> +Then, promising to come again, he rode rapidly away, to visit other patients, +who, that afternoon, were in danger of being sadly neglected, so constantly was +their young physician’s mind dwelling upon the little, low-walled chamber +where Maddy Clyde was lying. As night closed in she knew them all, and heard +that Dr. Holbrook had been there prescribing for her. Turning her face to the +wall, she seemed to be thinking; then, calling her grandmother to her, she +whispered: “Did he smooth my hair back and say, ‘poor +child?’” +</p> + +<p> +Her grandmother hardly thought he did, though she was not in the room all the +time, she said. “He had stayed a long while and was greatly +interested.” +</p> + +<p> +Maddy had a vague remembrance of such an incident, and in her heart forgave the +doctor for his rejection, thinking only how handsome he had looked, even while +tormenting her with such unheard of questions, and how kind he was to her now. +The sight of her grandfather awakened a new train of ideas, and bidding him to +sit beside her, she asked if their home must be sold. Maddy was not to be put +off with an evasion, and so grandpa told her honestly at last that Slocum would +foreclose, but not while she was sick; he had been seen that day by Mr. Green, +and had promised so much forbearance. +</p> + +<p> +This was the last rational conversation held with Maddy for many a week, and +when next morning the doctor came, there was a look of deep anxiety upon his +face as he watched the alarming symptoms of his delirious patient, who talked +incessantly, not of the examination now, but of the mortgage and the +foreclosure, begging the doctor to see that the house was not sold, to tell +them she was earning thirty-six dollars by teaching school, that Beauty should +be sold to save their dear old home. All this was strange at first to the +doctor, but the rather voluble Mrs. Green, who had come to Grandma +Markham’s relief, enlightened him, dwelling with a kind of malicious +pleasure upon the fact that Maddy’s earnings, had she been permitted to +get a “stifficut,” were to be appropriated toward paying the debt. +</p> + +<p> +If the doctor had hated himself the previous day when he from the red cottage +gate, he hated himself doubly now as he went dashing down the road, determined +to resign his office of school inspector that very day. And he did. +</p> + +<p> +Summoning around him those who had been most active in electing him, he refused +to officiate again, assuring them that if any more candidates came he should +either turn them from his door or give them a certificate without asking a +question. +</p> + +<p> +“Put anybody you like in my place,” he said; “anybody but Guy +Remington. Don’t for thunder’s sake take him.” +</p> + +<p> +There was no probability of this, as Guy lived in another town, and could not +have officiated had he wished. But the doctor was too much excited to reason +upon anything save Madeline Clyde’s case. That he perfectly understood; +and during the next few weeks his other patients waited many times in vain for +his coming, while he sat by Maddy’s side watching every change, whether +for the worse or better. Even Agnes Remington was totally neglected; and so one +day she sent Guy down to Devonshire to say that as Jessie seemed more than +usually delicate, she wished the doctor to take her under his charge and visit +her at least once a week. The doctor was not at home, but Tom said he expected +him every moment. So seating himself in the armchair, Guy waited until he came. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Hal,” he began, jocosely, but the joking words he would have +uttered next died on his lips as he noticed the strange look of excitement and +anxiety on the doctor’s face. “What is it?” he asked. +“Are all your patients dead?” +</p> + +<p> +“Guy,” and the doctor came closely to him, whispering huskily, +“you and I are murderers in the first degree. Yes; and both deserve to be +hung. Do you remember that Madeline Clyde whom you insulted with your logic and +Latin verbs? She’d set her heart on that certificate. She wanted the +money, not for new gowns and fooleries mind, but to help her old grandfather +pay his debts. His place is mortgaged. I don’t understand it; but he +asked some old hunks to lend him the money, and the miserly rascal, whoever he +was, refused. I wish I had it. I’d give it to him out and out. But +that’s nothing to do with the girl—Maddy they call her. The +disappointment killed her, and she’s dying—is raving +crazy—and keeps talking of that confounded examination. I tell you, Guy, +my inward parts get terribly mixed up when I hear her talk, and my heart thumps +like a trip-hammer. That’s the reason I have not been up to Aikenside. I +wouldn’t leave Maddy so long as there was hope. I did not tell them this +morning. I couldn’t make that poor couple feel worse than they are +feeling; but when I looked at her, tossing from side to side and picking at the +bedclothes, I knew it would soon be over—that when I saw her again the +poor little arms would be still enough and the bright eyes shut forever. Guy, I +couldn’t see her die—I don’t like to see anybody die, but +her, Maddy, of all others—and so I came away. If you stay long enough, +you’ll hear the bell toll, I reckon. There is none at Honedale Church, +which they attend. They are Episcopalians, you see, and so they’ll come +up here, maybe. I hope I shall be deafer than an adder.” +</p> + +<p> +Here the doctor stopped, wholly out of breath, while Guy for a moment sat +without speaking a single word. Jessie, in his hearing, had told her mother +what the sick girl in the doctor’s office had said about being poor and +wanting the money for grandpa, while Mrs. Noah had given him a rather +exaggerated account of Mr. Markham’s visit; but he had not associated the +two together until now, when he saw the whole, and almost as much as the doctor +himself regretted the part he had had in Maddy’s illness and her +grandfather’s distress. +</p> + +<p> +“Doc,” he said, laying his hand on the doctor’s arm, “I +am that old hunks, the miserly rascal who refused the money. I met the old man +going home that day, and he asked me for help. You say the place must be sold. +It never shall, never. I’ll see to that, and you must save the +girl.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t, Guy. I’ve done all I can, and now, if she lives, it +will be wholly owing to the prayers that old saint of a grandfather says for +her. I never thought much of these things until I heard him pray; not that she +should live anyway, but that if it were right Maddy might not die. Guy, +there’s something in such a prayer as that. It’s more powerful than +all my medicine swallowed at one grand gulp.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy didn’t know very much about praying then, and so he did not respond, +but he thought of Lucy Atherstone, whose life was one hymn of prayer and +praise, and he wished she could know of Maddy, and join her petitions with +those of the grandfather. Starting suddenly from his chair, he exclaimed, +“I’m going down there. It will look queerly, too, to go alone. Ah, +I have it! I’ll drive back to Aikenside for Jessie, who has talked so +much of the girl that her lady mother, forgetting that she was once a teacher, +is disgusted. Yes, I’ll take Jessie with me, but you must order it; you +must say it is good for her to ride, and, Hal, give me some medicine for her, +just to quiet Agnes, no matter what, provided it’s not strychnine.” +</p> + +<p> +Contrary to Guy’s expectations, Agnes did not refuse to let Jessie go for +a ride, particularly as she had no suspicion where he intended taking her, and +the little girl was soon seated by her brother’s side, chatting merrily +of the different things they passed upon the road. But when Guy told her where +they were going, and why they were going there, the tears came at once into her +eyes, and hiding her face in Guy’s lap she sobbed bitterly. +</p> + +<p> +“I did like her so much that day,” she said, “and she looked +so sorry, too. It’s terrible to die!” +</p> + +<p> +Then she plied Guy with questions concerning Maddy’s probable future. +“Would she go to heaven, sure?” and When Guy answered at random, +“Yes,” she asked, “How did he know? Had he heard that Maddy +was that kind of good which lets folks in heaven? Because, Brother Guy,” +and the little preacher nestled closely to the young man, fingering his coat +buttons as she talked, “because, Brother Guy, folks can be +good—that is, not do naughty things—and still God won’t love +them unless they—I don’t know what, I wish I did.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy drew her nearer to him, but to that childish yearning for knowledge he +could not respond, so he said: +</p> + +<p> +“Who taught you all this, little one?—not your mother, +surely.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, not mamma, but Miriam, the waiting-maid we left in Boston. She told +me about it, and taught me to pray different from mamma. Do you pray, Brother +Guy?” +</p> + +<p> +The question startled the young man, who was glad his coachman spoke to him +just then, asking if he should drive through Devonshire village, or go direct +to Honedale by a shorter route. +</p> + +<p> +They would go to the village, Guy said, hoping that thus the doctor might be +persuaded to accompany them. This diverted Jessie’s mind, and she said no +more of praying; but the first tiny grain was sown, the mustard seed, which +should hereafter spring up into a mighty tree, the indirect result of +Maddy’s disappointment and almost fatal illness. They found the doctor at +home and willing to go with them. Indeed, so impatient had he become listening +for the first stroke of the bell which was to herald the death he deemed so +sure, that he was on the point of mounting his horse and galloping off alone, +when Guy’s invitation came. It was five miles from Devonshire to +Honedale, and when they reached a hill which lay halfway between, they stopped +for a few moments to rest the tired horses. Suddenly, as they sat waiting, a +sharp, ringing sound fell on their ears, and grasping Guy’s knee, the +doctor said, “I told you so; Madeline Clyde is dead.” +</p> + +<p> +It was the village bell, and its twice three strokes betokened that it tolled +for somebody youthful, somebody young, like Maddy Clyde. Jessie wept silently, +but there were no tears in the eyes of the young men, as with beating hearts +they sat listening to the slow, solemn sounds which came echoing up the hill. +There was a pause; the sexton’s dirgelike task was done, and now it only +remained for him to strike the age, and tell how many years the departed one +had numbered. +</p> + +<p> +“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten;” Jessie +counted it aloud, while every stroke fell like a heavy blow upon the hearts of +the young men, who a few weeks ago, knew not that such as Maddy Clyde had ever +had existence. +</p> + +<p> +How long it seemed before another stroke, and Guy was beginning to hope +they’d heard the last, when again the dull, muffled sound came floating +on the air, and Dr. Holbrook’s black, bearded lip half quivered as he now +counted aloud, “one, two, three, four, five.” +</p> + +<p> +That was all; there it stopped; and vain were all their listenings to catch +another note. Fifteen years, and only fifteen had passed over the form now +forever still. +</p> + +<p> +“She was fifteen,” Guy whispered, remembering distinctly to have +heard that number from Maddy herself. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought they told me fourteen, but of course it’s she,” +the doctor rejoined. “Poor child, I would have given much to have saved +her.” +</p> + +<p> +Jessie did not talk; only once, when she asked Guy, if it was very far to +heaven, and if he supposed Maddy had got there by this time. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll go just the same,” said Guy. “I will do what I +can for the old man;” and so the carriage drove on, down the hill, across +the meadow-land, and past a low-roofed house whose walls inclosed the stiffened +form of him for whom the bell had tolled, the boy, fifteen years of age, who +had been the patient of another than Dr. Holbrook. +</p> + +<p> +Maddy was not dead, but the paroxysm of restlessness had passed, and she lay +now in a heavy sleep so nearly resembling death that they who watched, waited +expectantly to see the going out of her last breath. Never before had a +carriage like that from Aikenside stopped at that humble cottage, but the +neighbors thought it came merely to bring the doctor, whom they welcomed with a +glad smile, making a way for him to pass to Maddy’s bedside. Guy +preferred waiting in the carriage until such time as Grandpa Markham could +speak with him, but Jessie went with the doctor into the sick room, startling +even the grandmother, and causing her to wonder who the richly-dressed child +could be. +</p> + +<p> +“Dying, doctor,” said one of the women, affirmatively, not +interrogatively; but the doctor shook his head, and holding in one hand his +watch he counted the faint pulse beats as with his eye he measured off the +minute. +</p> + +<p> +“There are too many here,” he said. “She needs the air you +are breathing,” and in his singular, authoritative way, he cleared the +crowded room of the mistaken friends who were unwittingly breathing up +Maddy’s very life. +</p> + +<p> +All but the grandparents and Jessie; these he suffered to remain, and sitting +down by Maddy, watched till the long sleep was ended. Silently and earnestly +the aged couple prayed for their darling, asking that if possible she might be +spared, and God heard their prayers, lifting, at last, the heavy fog from +Maddy’s brain, and waking her to life and partial consciousness. It was +Jessie who first caught the expression of the opening eyes, and darting +forward, she exclaimed, “She’s waked up, Dr. Holbrook. She will +live.” +</p> + +<p> +Wonderingly Maddy looked at her, and then as a confused recollection of where +they had met before crossed her mind, she smiled faintly, and said: +</p> + +<p> +“Where am I now? Have I never come home, and is this Dr. Holbrook’s +office?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no; it’s home, your home, and you are getting well,” +Jessie cried, bending over the bewildered girl. “Dr. Holbrook has cured +you, and Guy is here, and I, and—” +</p> + +<p> +“Hush, you disturb her,” the doctor said, gently pulling Jessie +away, and himself asking Maddy how she felt. +</p> + +<p> +She did not recognize him. She only had a vague idea that he might be some +doctor, but not Dr. Holbrook, sure; not the one who had so puzzled and tortured +her on a day which seemed now so far behind. From the white-haired man kneeling +by the bedside there was a burst of thanksgiving for the life restored, and +then Grandpa Markham tottered from the room, out into the open air, which had +never fallen so refreshingly on his tried frame as it fell now, when he first +knew that Maddy would live. He did not care for his homestead; that might go, +and he still be happy with Maddy left. But He who had marked that true +disciple’s every sigh, had another good in store, willing it so that both +should come together, even as the two disappointments had come hand in hand. +</p> + +<p> +From the soft cushions of his carriage, where he sat reclining, Guy Remington +saw the old man as he came out, and alighting at once, he accosted him +pleasantly, and then walked with him to the garden, where, on a rustic bench, +built for Maddy beneath the cherry trees, Grandpa Markham sat down to rest. +From speaking of Madeline it was easy to go back to the day when Guy had first +met grandpa, whose application for money he had refused. +</p> + +<p> +“I have thought better of it since,” he said, “and am sorry I +did not accede to your proposal. One object of my coming here to-day was to say +that my purse is at your disposal. You can have as much as you wish, paying me +whenever you like, and the house shall not be sold. Slocum, I understand, holds +the mortgage. I will see him to-morrow and stop the whole proceeding.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy spoke rapidly, determined to make a clean breast of it, but grandpa +understood him, and bowing his white head upon his bosom, the big tears dropped +like rain upon the turf, while his lips quivered, first with thanks to the +Providence who had truly done all things well, and next with thanks to his +benefactor. +</p> + +<p> +“Blessings on your head, young man, for making me so happy. You are +worthy of your father, and he was the best of men.” +</p> + +<p> +“My father—did you know him?” Guy asked, in some surprise, +and then the story came out, how, years before, when a city hotel was on fire, +and one of its guests in imminent danger from the locality of his room, and his +own nervous fear which made him powerless to act, another guest braved +fearlessly the hissing flame, and scaling the tottering wall, dragged out to +life and liberty one who, until that hour, was to him an utter stranger. +</p> + +<p> +Pushing back his snowy hair, Grandfather Markham showed upon his temple a long, +white scar, obtained the night when he periled his own life to save that of +another. There was a doubly warm pressure now of the old man’s hand, as +Guy replied, “I’ve heard that story from father himself, but the +name of his preserver had escaped me. Why didn’t you tell me who you +were?” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought ’twould look too much like demanding it as a +right—too much like begging, and I s’pose I felt too proud. Pride +is my besetting sin—the one I pray most against.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy looked keenly now at the man whose besetting sin was pride, and as he +marked the cheapness of his attire, his pantaloons faded and short, his coat +worn threadbare and shabby, his shoes both patched at the toes, his cotton +shirt minus a bosom, and then thought of the humble cottage, with its few rocky +acres, he wondered of what he could be proud. +</p> + +<p> +Meantime, for Maddy, Dr. Holbrook had prescribed perfect quiet, bidding them +darken again the window from which the shade had been removed, and ordering all +save the grandmother to leave the room and let the patient sleep, if possible. +Even Jessie was not permitted to stay, though Maddy clung to her as to a dear +friend. In a few whispered words Jessie had told her name, saying she came from +Aikenside, and that her Brother Guy was there, too, outdoors, in the carriage. +“He heard how sick you were at Devonshire, this morning, and drove right +home for me to come to see you. I told him of you that day in the office, and +that’s why he brought me, I guess. You’ll like Guy. I know all the +girls do—he’s so good.” +</p> + +<p> +Sick and weary as she was, and unable as yet to comprehend the entire meaning +of all she heard, Maddy was conscious of a thrill of pride in knowing that Guy +Remington, from Aikenside, was interested in her, and had brought his sister to +see her. Winding her feeble arms around Jessie’s neck, she kissed the +soft, warm cheek, and said, “You’ll come again, I hope.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, every day, if mamma will let me. I don’t mind it a bit, if +you are poor.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tut, tut, little tattler!” and Dr. Holbrook, who, unseen by the +children, had all the while been standing near, took Jessie by the arm. +“What makes you think them poor?” +</p> + +<p> +In the closely-shaded room Maddy could see nothing distinctly, but she heard +Jessie’s reply: “Because the plastering comes down so low, and +Maddy’s pillows are so teenty, not much bigger than my dolly’s. But +I love her; don’t you doctor?” +</p> + +<p> +Through the darkness the doctor caught the sudden flash of Maddy’s eyes, +and something impelled him to lay his cool, broad hand on her forehead, as he +replied, “I love all my patients;” then, taking Jessie’s arm, +he led her out to where Guy was waiting for her. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap06"></a>CHAPTER VI.<br/> +CONVALESCENCE.</h2> + +<p> +Had it not been for the presence of Dr. Holbrook, who, accepting Guy’s +invitation to tea, rode back with him to Aikenside, Mrs. Agnes would have gone +off into a passion when told that Jessie had been “exposed to fever and +mercy knows what.” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s no telling what one will catch among the very poor,” +she said to Dr. Holbrook, as she clasped and unclasped the heavy gold bracelets +flashing on her white, round arm. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll be answerable for any disease Jessie caught at Mr. +Markham’s,” the doctor replied. +</p> + +<p> +“At Mr. Who’s? What did you call him?” Agnes asked, the +bright color on her cheek fading as the doctor replied: +</p> + +<p> +“Markham—an old man who lives in Honedale. You never knew him, of +course.” +</p> + +<p> +Involuntarily Agnes glanced at Guy, in whose eye there was, as she fancied, a +peculiar expression. Could it be he knew the secret she guarded so carefully? +Impossible, she said to herself; but still the white fingers trembled as she +handled the china and silver, and for once she was glad when the doctor took +his leave, and she was alone with Jessie. +</p> + +<p> +“What was that girl’s name?” she asked, “the one you +went to see?” +</p> + +<p> +“Maddy, mother—Madeline Clyde. She’s so pretty. I’m +going to see her again. May I?” +</p> + +<p> +Agnes did not reply directly, but continued to question the child with regard +to the cottage which Jessie thought so funny, slanting away back, she said, so +that the roof on one side almost touched the ground. The window panes, too, +were so very tiny, and the room where Maddy lay sick was small and low. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes, I know,” Agnes said at last, impatiently, weary of +hearing of the cottage whose humble exterior and interior she knew so much +better than Jessie herself. +</p> + +<p> +But this was not to be divulged; for surely the haughty Agnes Remington, who, +in Boston, aspired to lead in society into which, as the wife of Dr. Remington, +she had been admitted, and who, in Aikenside, was looked upon with envy, could +have nothing in common with the red cottage or its inmates. So when Jessie +asked again if she could not visit Maddy on the morrow, she answered decidedly: +“No, daughter, no. I do not wish you to associate with such +people,” and when Jessie insisted on knowing why she must not associate +with such people as Maddy Clyde, the answer was: “Because you are a +Remington,” and as if this of itself were of an unanswerable objection, +Agnes sent her child from her, refusing to talk longer on a subject so +disagreeable to her and so suggestive of the past. It was all in vain that +Jessie, and even Guy himself, tried to revoke the decision. Jessie should not +be permitted to come in contact with that kind of people, she said, or incur +the risk of catching that dreadful fever. +</p> + +<p> +So day after day, while life and health were slowly throbbing through her +veins, Maddy waited and longed for the little girl whose one visit to her sick +room seemed so much like a dream. From her grandfather she had heard the good +news of Guy Remington’s generosity, and that, quite as much as Dr. +Holbrook’s medicines, helped to bring the color back to the pallid cheek +and the brightness to her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +She was asleep the first time the doctor came after the occasion of +Jessie’s visit, and as sleep, he said, would do her more good than +anything he might prescribe, he did not awaken her; but for a long time, as it +seemed to Grandma Markham, who stood very little in awe of the Boston doctor, +he watched her as she slept, now clasping the blue-veined wrist as he felt for +the pulse, and now wiping from her forehead the drops of sweat, or pushing back +her soft, damp hair. It would be three days before he could see her again, for +a sick father in Cambridge needed his attention, and after numerous directions +as to the administering of sundry powders and pills, he left her, feeling that +the next three days would be long ones to him. Dr. Holbrook did not stop to +analyze the nature of his interest in Maddy Clyde—an interest so +different from any he had ever felt before for his patients; and even if he had +sought to solve the riddle, he would have said that the knowing how he had +wronged her was the sole cause of his thinking far more of her and of her case +than of the thirty other patients on his list. Dr. Holbrook was a handsome man, +a thorough scholar, and a most skillful physician; but ladies who expected from +him those little polite attentions which the sex value so highly generally +expected in vain, for he was no ladies’ man, and his language and manners +were oftentimes abrupt, even when both were prompted by the utmost kindness of +heart. In his organization, too, there was not a quick perception of what would +be exactly appropriate, and so, when, at last, he was about starting to visit +Maddy again, he puzzled his brains until they fairly ached with wondering what +he could do to give her a pleasant surprise and show that he was not as +formidable a personage as her past experience might lead her to think. +</p> + +<p> +“If I could only take her something,” he said, glancing ruefully +around his office. “Now, if she were Jessie, nuts and raisins might +answer—but she must not eat such trash as that,” and he set himself +to think again, just as Guy Remington rode up, bearing in his hand a most +exquisite bouquet, whose fragrance filled the medicine-odored office at once, +and whose beauty elicited an exclamation of delight even from the +matter-of-fact Dr. Holbrook. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought you might be going down to Honedale, as I knew you returned +last night, so I brought these flowers for your patient with my compliments, or +if you prefer I give them to you, and you can thus present them as if coming +from yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +“As if I would do that,” the doctor answered, taking the bouquet in +his hand the better to examine and admire it. “Did you arrange it, or +your gardener?” he asked, and when Guy replied that the merit of +arrangement, if merit there were, belonged to himself, he began to deprecate +his own awkwardness and want of tact. “Here I have been cudgeling my head +this half hour trying to think what I could take her as a peace offering, and +could think of nothing, while you—Well, you and I are different entirely. +You know just what is proper—just what to say, and when to say +it—while I am a perfect bore, and without doubt shall make some ludicrous +blunder in delivering the flowers. To-day will be the first time really that we +meet, as she was sleeping when I was there last, while on all other occasions +she has paid no attention whatever to me.” +</p> + +<p> +For a moment Guy regarded his friend attentively, noticing now that extra care +had been bestowed upon his toilet, that the collar was fresh from the laundry, +and the new cravat tied in a most unexceptionable manner, instead of being +twisted into a hard knot, with the ends looking as if they had been chewed. +</p> + +<p> +“Doc,” he said, when his survey was completed, “how old are +you—twenty-five or twenty-six?” +</p> + +<p> +“Twenty-five—just your age—why?” and the doctor looked +with an expression so wholly innocent of Guy’s real meaning that the +latter, instead of telling why, replied: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! nothing; only I was wondering if you would do to be my father. +Agnes, I verily believe, is more than half in love with you; but, on the whole, +I would not like to be your son; so I guess you’d better take some one +younger—say Jessie. You are only eighteen years her senior.” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor stared at him amazed, and when he had finished said with the utmost +candor: “What has that to do with Madeline? I thought we were talking of +her.” “Innocent as the newly-born babe,” was Guy’s +mental comment, as he congratulated himself on his larger and more varied +experience. +</p> + +<p> +And truly Dr. Holbrook was as simple-hearted as a child, never dreaming of +Guy’s meaning, or that any emotion save a perfectly proper one had a +lodgment in his breast as he drove down to Honedale, guarding carefully +Guy’s bouquet, and wishing he knew just what he ought to say when he +presented it. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Maddy had gained rapidly the last three days. Good nursing and the +doctor’s medicines were working miracles, and on the morning when the +doctor, with Guy’s bouquet, was riding rapidly toward Honedale, she was +feeling so much better that in view of his coming she asked if she could not be +permitted to receive him sitting in the rocking-chair, instead of lying there +in bed, and when this plan was vetoed as utterly impossible, she asked, +anxiously: +</p> + +<p> +“And must I see him in this nightgown? Can’t I have on my pink +gingham wrapper?” +</p> + +<p> +Hitherto Maddy had been too sick to care at all about her personal appearance, +but it was different now. She did care, and thoughts of meeting again the +handsome, stylish-looking man who had asked her to conjugate <i>amo</i> and +whom she fully believed to be Dr. Holbrook, made her rather nervous. Dim +remembrances she had of some one gliding in and out, and when the pain and +noise in her head was at its highest, a hand, large, and, oh! so cool had been +laid upon her temples, quieting their throbbings and making the blood course +less madly through the swollen veins. They had told her how kind, how attentive +he had been, and to herself she had said: “He’s sorry about that +certificate. He wishes to show me that he did not mean to be unkind. Yes; I +forgive him: for I really was very stupid that afternoon.” +</p> + +<p> +And so, in a most forgiving frame of mind, Maddy submitted to the snowy robe +which grandma brought in place of the coveted gingham wrapper, and which became +her well, with its daintily-crimped ruffles about the neck and wrists. Those +wrists and hands! How white and small they had grown! and Maddy sighed, as her +grandmother buttoned together the wristbands, to see how loose it was. +</p> + +<p> +“I have been very sick,” she said. “Are my cheeks as thin as +my arms?” +</p> + +<p> +They were not, though they had lost some of their symmetrical roundness. Still +there was much of childish beauty in the young, eager face, and the hair had +lost comparatively none of its glossy brightness. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s him,” grandma said, as the sound of a horse’s +gallop was heard, and in a moment the doctor reined up before the gate. +</p> + +<p> +From Mrs. Markham, who met him in the door, he learned how much better she was; +also how “she has been reckoning on this visit, making herself all +a-sweat about it.” +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly the doctor felt returning all his old dread of Maddy Clyde. Why should +she wrong herself into a sweat? What was there in that visit different from any +other? Nothing, he said to himself, nothing; and yet he, too, had been more +anxious about it than any he had ever paid. Depositing his hat and gloves upon +the table, he followed Mrs. Markham up the stairs, vaguely conscious of wishing +she would stay down, and very conscious of feeling glad; when just at +Maddy’s door and opposite a little window, she espied the hens busily +engaged in devouring the yeast cakes, with which she had taken so much pains, +and which she had placed in the hot sun to dry. Finding that they paid no heed +to her loud “Shoo, shoos,” she started herself to drive them away, +telling the doctor to go right on and to help himself. +</p> + +<p> +The perspiration was standing under Maddy’s hair by this time, and when +the doctor stepped across the threshold, and she knew he really was coming near +her, it oozed out upon her forehead in big, round drops, while her cheeks +glowed with a feverish heat. Thinking he should get along with it better if he +treated her just as he would Jessie, the doctor confronted her at once, and +asked: +</p> + +<p> +“How is my little patient to-day?” +</p> + +<p> +A faint scream broke from Maddy’s lips, and she involuntarily raised her +hands to thrust the stranger away. This black-eyed, black-haired, thick-set man +was not Dr. Holbrook, for he was taller, and more slight, while she had not +been deceived in the dark brown eyes which, even while they seemed to be +mocking her, had worn a strange fascination for the maiden of fourteen and a +half. The doctor fancied her delirious again, and this reassured him at once. +Dropping the bouquet upon the bed, he clasped one of her hands in his, and +without the slightest idea that she comprehended him, said, soothingly: +</p> + +<p> +“Poor child, are you afraid of me—the doctor, Dr. Holbrook?” +Maddy did not try to withdraw her hand, but raising her eyes, swimming in +tears, to his face, she stammered out: +</p> + +<p> +“What does it mean, and where is he—the one who—asked +me—those dreadful questions? I thought that was Dr. Holbrook.” +</p> + +<p> +Here was a dilemma—something for which the doctor was not prepared, and +with a feeling that he would not betray Guy, he said: +</p> + +<p> +“No; that was some one else—a friend of mine—but I was there +in the back office. Don’t you remember me? Please don’t grow +excited. Compose yourself, and I will explain all by and by. This is wrong. +’Twill never do,” and talking thus rapidly he wiped away the sweat, +about which grandma had told him. +</p> + +<p> +Maddy was disappointed, and it took her some time to rally sufficiently to +convince the doctor that she was not flighty, as he termed it; but composing +herself at last, she answered all his questions, and then, as he saw her eyes +wandering toward the bouquet, he suddenly remembered that it was not yet +presented, and placing it in her hands, he said: +</p> + +<p> +“You like flowers, I know, and these are for you. I——” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! thank you, thank you, doctor; I am so glad. I love them so much, and +you are so kind. What made you think to bring them? I’ve wanted flowers +so badly; but I could not have them, because I was sick and did not work in the +garden. It was so good in you,” and in her delight Maddy’s tears +dropped upon the fair blossoms. +</p> + +<p> +For a moment the doctor was sorely tempted to keep the credit thus +enthusiastically given; but he was too truthful for that, and so watching her +as her eyes glistened with pleased excitement, he said: +</p> + +<p> +“I am glad you like them, Miss Clyde, and so will Mr. Remington be. He +sent them to you from his conservatory.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not Mr. Remington from Aikenside—not Jessie’s +brother?” and Maddy’s eyes now fairly danced as they sought the +doctor’s face. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes Jessie’s brother. He came here with her. He is interested in +you, and brought these down this morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was Jessie, I guess, who sent them,” Maddy suggested, but the +doctor persisted that it was Guy. +</p> + +<p> +“He wished me to present them with his compliments. He thought they might +please you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! they do, they do!” Maddy replied. “They almost make me +well. Tell him how much I thank him, and like him too, though I never saw +him.” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor opened his lips to tell her she had seen him, but changed his mind +ere the words were uttered. She might not think as well of Guy, he thought, and +there was no harm in keeping it back. +</p> + +<p> +So Maddy had no suspicion that the face she thought of so much belonged to Guy +Remington. She had never seen him, of course; but she hoped she would some +time, so as to thank him for his generosity to her grandfather and his kindness +to herself. Then, as she remembered the message she had sent him, she began to +think that it sounded too familiar, and said to the doctor: +</p> + +<p> +“If you please, don’t tell Mr. Remington that I said I liked +him—only that I thank him. He would think it queer for a poor girl like +me to send such word to him. He is very rich, and handsome, and splendid, +isn’t he?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Guy’s rich and handsome, and everybody likes him. We were in +college together.” +</p> + +<p> +“You were?” Maddy exclaimed. “Then you know him well, and +Jessie, and you’ve been to Aikenside often? There’s nothing in the +world I want so much as to go to Aikenside. They say it is so beautiful.” +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe I’ll carry you up there some day when you are strong enough +to ride,” the doctor answered, thinking of his light buggy at home, and +wondering he had not used it more, instead of always riding on horseback. +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Holbrook looked much older than he was, and to Maddy he seemed quite +fatherly, so that the idea of riding with him, aside from the honor it might be +to her, struck her much as riding with Farmer Green would have done. The +doctor, too, imagined that his proposition was prompted solely from +disinterested motives, but he found himself wondering how long it would be +before Maddy would be able to ride a little distance, just over the hill and +back. He was tiring her all out talking to her; but somehow it was very +delightful there in that sick room, with the summer sunshine stealing through +the window and falling upon the soft reddish-brown head resting on the pillows. +Once he fixed those pillows, arranging them so nicely that grandma, who had +come in from her hens and yeast cakes, declared “he was as handy as a +woman,” and after receiving a few general directions with regard to the +future, “guessed, if he wasn’t in a hurry, she’d leave him +with Maddy a spell, as there were a few chores she must do.” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor knew that at least a dozen individuals were waiting for him that +moment; but still he was in no hurry, he said, and so for half an hour longer +he sat there talking of Guy, and Jessie, and Aikenside, and wondering he had +never before observed how very becoming a white wrapper was to sick girls like +Maddy Clyde. Had he been asked the question, he could not have told whether his +other patients were habited in buff, or brown, or tan color; but he knew all +about Maddy’s garb, and thought the dainty frill around her slender +throat the prettiest “puckered piece” that he had ever seen. How, +then, was Dr. Holbrook losing his heart to that little girl of fourteen and a +half? He did not think so. Indeed, he did not think anything about his heart, +though thoughts of Maddy Clyde were pretty constantly with him, as after +leaving her he paid his round of visits. +</p> + +<p> +The Aikenside carriage was standing at Mrs. Conner’s gate when he +returned, and Jessie came running out to meet him, followed by Guy, while +Agnes, in the most becoming riding habit, sat by the window looking as +unconcerned at his arrival as if it were not the very event for which she had +been impatiently waiting, Jessie was a great pet with the doctor, and, lifting +her lightly in his arms, he kissed her forehead where the golden curls were +clustering and said to her: +</p> + +<p> +“I have seen Maddy Clyde. She asked for you, and why you do not come to +see her, as you promised.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mother won’t let me,” Jessie answered. “She says they +are not fit associates for a Remington.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a sudden flash of contempt on the doctor’s face, and a gleam of +wrath in Agnes’ eyes as she motioned Jessie to be silent, and then +gracefully received the doctor, who by this time was in the room. As if +determined to monopolize the conversation, and keep it from turning on the +Markhams, Agnes rattled on for nearly fifteen minutes, scarcely allowing Guy a +chance for uttering a word. But Guy bided his time, and seized the first +favorable opportunity to inquire after Madeline. +</p> + +<p> +She was improving rapidly, the doctor said, adding: “You ought to have +seen her delight when I gave her your bouquet.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed,” and Agnes bridled haughtily; “I did not know that +Guy was in the habit of sending bouquets to such as this Clyde girl. I really +must report him to Miss Atherstone.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy’s seat was very near to Agnes, and while a cloud overspread his fine +features, he said to her in an aside: +</p> + +<p> +“Please say in your report that the worst thing about this Clyde girl is +that she aspires to be a teacher, and possibly a governess.” +</p> + +<p> +There was an emphasis on the last word which silenced Agnes and set her to +beating her French gaiter on the carpet; while Guy, turning back to the doctor, +replied to his remark: +</p> + +<p> +“She was pleased, then?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; she must be vastly fond of flowers, though I sometimes fancied the +fact of being noticed by you afforded almost as much satisfaction as the +bouquet itself. She evidently regards you as a superior being, and Aikenside as +a second Paradise, and asking innumerable questions about you and Jessie, +too.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did she honor me with an inquiry?” Agnes asked, her tone +indicative of sarcasm, though she was greatly interested as well as relieved by +the reply: +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; she said she heard that Jessie’s mother was a beautiful +woman, and asked if you were not born in England.” +</p> + +<p> +“She’s mixed me up with Lucy. Guy, you must go down and enlighten +her,” Agnes said, laughing merrily and appearing more at ease than she +had before since Maddy Clyde had been the subject of conversation. +</p> + +<p> +Guy did not go down to Honedale—but fruit and flowers, and once a bottle +of rare old wine, found their way to the old red cottage, always brought by +Guy’s man, Duncan, and always accompanied with Mr. Remington’s +compliments. Once, hidden among the rosebuds, was a childish note from Jessie, +some of it printed and some in the uneven hand of a child just commencing to +write. +</p> + +<p> +It was as follows: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“D<small>EAR</small> M<small>ADDY</small>: I think that is such a pretty +name, and so does Guy, and so does the doctor, too. I want to come see you, but +mamma won’t let me. I think of you ever so much, and so does Guy, I +guess, for he sends you lots of things. Guy is a nice brother, and is most as +old as mamma. Ain’t that funny? You know my first ma is dead. The doctor +tells us about you when he comes to Aikenside. I wish he’d come oftener, +for I love him a bushel—don’t you? Yours respectfully, +</p> + +<p class="right"> +“J<small>ESSIE</small> A<small>GNES</small> R<small>EMINGTON</small>. +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“P. S.—I am going to tuck this in just for fun, right among the +buds, where you must look for it.” +</p> + +<p> +This note Maddy read and reread until she knew it by heart, particularly the +part relating to Guy. Hitherto she had not particularly liked her name, greatly +preferring that it should have been Eliza Ann, or Sarah Jane; but the knowing +that Guy Remington fancied it made a vast difference, and did much toward +reconciling her. She did not even see the clause, “and the doctor, +too.” His attentions and concern she took as a matter of course, so +quietly and so constantly had they been given. The day was very long now which +did not bring him to the cottage; but she missed him much as she would have +missed her brother, if she had had one, though her pulse always quickened and +her cheeks glowed when she heard him at the gate. The inner power did not lie +deeper than a great friendliness for one who had been instrumental in saving +her life. They had talked over the matter of her examination, the doctor +blaming himself more than was necessary for his ignorance as to what was +required of a teacher; but when she asked who was his proxy, he had again +answered, evasively: “A friend from Boston.” +</p> + +<p> +And this he did to shield Guy, whom he knew was enshrined in the little +maiden’s heart as a paragon of all excellence. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap07"></a>CHAPTER VII.<br/> +THE DRIVE.</h2> + +<p> +Latterly the doctor had taken to driving in his buggy, and when Maddy was +strong enough he took her with him one day, himself adjusting the shawl which +grandma wrapped around her, and pulling a little farther on the white sunbonnet +which shaded the sweet, pale face, where the roses were just beginning to bloom +again. The doctor was very happy that morning, and so, too, was Maddy, talking +to him upon the theme of which she never tired, Guy Remington, Jessie and +Aikenside. Was it as beautiful a place as she had heard it was, and +didn’t he think it would be delightful to live there? +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose Mr. Guy will be bringing a wife there some day when he finds +one,” and leaning back in the buggy Maddy heaved a little sigh, not at +thoughts of Guy Remington’s wife, but because she began to feel tired, +and thus gave vent to her weariness. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor, however, did not so construe it. He heard the sigh, and for the +first time when listening to her as she talked of Guy, a keen throb of pain +shot through his heart, a something as near akin to jealousy as it was possible +for him then to feel. But all unused as he was to the workings of love he did +not at that moment dream of such an emotion in connection with Madeline Clyde. +He only knew that something affected him unpleasantly, prompting him, for some +reason, to tell Maddy Clyde about Lucy Atherstone, who, in all probability, +would one day come to Aikenside as its mistress. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Guy will undoubtedly marry,” he began, just as over the top +of the easy hill they were ascending horses’ heads were visible, and the +Aikenside carriage appeared in view. “There he is now,” he +exclaimed, adding quickly: “No, I am mistaken, there’s only a lady +inside. It must be Agnes.” +</p> + +<p> +It was Agnes driving out alone, for the sole purpose of passing a place which +had a singular attraction for her, the old, red cottage in Honedale. She +recognized the doctor, and guessed whom he had with him, Putting up her glass, +for which she had no more need than Jessie, she scrutinized the little figure +bundled up in shawls, while she smiled her sweetest smile upon the doctor, +showing to good advantage her white teeth, and shaking back her wealth of curls +with the air and manner of a young coquettish girl. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, what a handsome lady! Who is she?” Maddy asked, turning to +look after the carriage now swiftly descending the hill. +</p> + +<p> +“That was Jessie’s mother, Mrs. Agnes Remington,” the doctor +replied. “She’ll feel flattered with your compliment.” +</p> + +<p> +“I did not mean to flatter. I said what I thought. She is handsome, +beautiful, and so young, too. Was that a gold bracelet which flashed so on her +arm?” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor presumed it was, though he had not noticed. Gold bracelets were not +new to him as they were to Maddy, who continued: +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder if I’ll ever wear a bracelet like that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Would you like to?” the doctor asked, glancing at the small white +wrist, around which the dark calico sleeve was closely buttoned, and thinking +how much prettier and modest-looking it was than Agnes’ half-bare arms, +where the ornaments were flashing. +</p> + +<p> +“Y-e-s,” came hesitatingly from Maddy, who had a strong passion for +jewelry. “I guess I would, though grandpa classes all such things with +the pomps and vanities which I must renounce when I get to be good.” +</p> + +<p> +“And when will that be?” the doctor asked. +</p> + +<p> +Again Maddy sighed, as she replied: “I cannot tell. I thought so much +about it while I was sick, that is, when I could think; but now I’m +better, it goes away from me some. I know it is wrong, but I cannot help it. +I’ve seen only a bit of pomp and vanity, but I must say that I like what +I have seen, and I wish to see more. It’s very wicked, I know,” she +kept on, as she met the queer expression of the doctor’s face; “and +I know you think me so bad. You are good—a Christian, I suppose?” +</p> + +<p> +There was a strange light in the doctor’s eye as he answered, half sadly: +“No, Maddy, I am not what you call a Christian, I have not renounced the +pomps and vanities yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I’m so sorry,” and Maddy’s eyes expressed all the +sorrow she professed to feel. “You ought to be, now you’ve got so +old.” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor colored crimson, and stopping his horse under the dim shadow of a +maple in a little hollow, he said: +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not so very old, Maddy; only twenty-five—only ten years +older than yourself; and Agnes’ husband was more than twenty years her +senior.” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor did not know why he dragged that last in, when it had nothing +whatever to do with their conversation; but as the most trivial thing often +leads to great results, so far from the pang caused by Maddy’s thinking +him so old, was born the first real consciousness he had ever had that the +little girl beside him was very dear, and that the ten years difference between +them might prove a most impassable gulf. With this feeling, it was exceedingly +painful for him to hear Maddy’s sudden exclamation: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, oh! over twenty years—that’s dreadful. She must be most +glad he’s dead. I would not marry a man more than five years older than I +am.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not if you loved him, and he loved you very, very dearly?” the +doctor asked, his voice low and tender in its tone. +</p> + +<p> +Wholly unsuspicious of the wild storm beating in his heart, Maddy untied her +white sunbonnet, and, taking it in her lap, smoothed back her soft hair, +saying, with a long breath: “Oh! I’m so hot,” and then, as +just thinking of his question, replied: “I shouldn’t love +him—I couldn’t. Grandma is five years younger than grandpa, mother +was five years younger than father, Mrs. Green is five years younger than Mr. +Green, and, oh! ever so many. You are warm, too; ain’t you?” and +she turned her innocent eyes full upon the doctor, who was wiping from his lips +the great drops of water, induced not so much by the heat as by the apparent +hopelessness of the love he now knew was growing in his heart for Maddy Clyde. +Recurring again to Agnes, Maddy said: “I wonder why she married that old +man? It is worse than if you were to marry Jessie.” +</p> + +<p> +“Money and position were the attractions, I imagine,” the doctor +said. “Agnes was poor, and esteemed it a great honor to be made Mrs. +Remington.” +</p> + +<p> +“Poor, was she?” Maddy rejoined. “Then maybe Mr. Guy will +some day marry a poor girl. Do you think he will?” +</p> + +<p> +Again Lucy Atherstone trembled on the doctor’s lips, but he did not speak +of her—it was preposterous that Maddy should have any thoughts of Guy +Remington, who was quite as old as himself, besides being engaged, and with +this comforting assurance the doctor turned his horse in the direction of the +cottage, for Maddy was growing tired and needed to be at home. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps you’ll some time change your mind about people so much +older, and if you do you’ll remember our talk this morning,” he +said, as he drove up at last before the gate. +</p> + +<p> +Oh, yes! Maddy would never forget that morning or the nice ride they’d +had. She had enjoyed it so much, and she thanked him many times for his +kindness, as she stood waiting for him to drive away, feeling no tremor +whatever when at parting he took and held her hand, smoothing it gently, and +telling her it was growing fat and plump again. He was a very nice doctor, much +better than she had imagined, she thought, as she went slowly to the house and +entered the neat kitchen, where her grandmother sat shelling peas for dinner, +and her grandfather in his leathern chair was whispering over his weekly paper. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you meet a grand lady in a carriage?” grandma asked, as Maddy +sat down beside her. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; and Dr. Holbrook said it was Mrs. Remington, from Aikenside, Mr. +Guy’s stepmother, and that she was more than twenty years younger than +her husband—isn’t it dreadful? I thought so; but the doctor +didn’t seem to,” and in a perfectly artless manner Maddy repeated +much of the conversation which had passed between the doctor and herself, +appealing to her grandma to know if she had not taken the right side of the +argument. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, child, you did,” and grandma’s hands lingered among the +light green peas in her pan, as if she were thinking of an entirely foreign +subject. “I knows nothing about this Mrs. Remington, only that she stared +a good deal at the house as she went by, even looking at us through a glass, +and lifting her spotted veil after she got by. She may have been as happy as a +queen with her man, but as a general thing these unequal matches don’t +work, and had better not be thought on. S’posin’ you should think +you was in love with somebody, and in a few years, when you got older, be sick +of him. It might do him a sight of harm. That’s what spoilt your poor +Great-uncle Joseph, who’s been in the hospital at Worcester goin’ +on nine years.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was!” and Maddy’s face was all aglow with the interest +she always evinced whenever mention was made of the one great living sorrow of +her grandmother’s life—the shattered intellect and isolation from +the world of her youngest brother, who, as she said, had for nearly nine long +years been an inmate of a madhouse. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me about it,” Maddy continued, bringing a pillow, and lying +down upon the faded lounge beneath the window. +</p> + +<p> +“There is no great to tell, only he was many years younger than I. +He’s only forty-one now, and was thirteen years older than the girl he +wanted. Joseph was smart and handsome, and a lawyer, and folks said a sight too +good for the girl, whose folks were just nothing, but she had a pretty face, +and her long curls bewitched him. She couldn’t have been older than you +when he first saw her, and she was only sixteen when they got engaged. +Joseph’s life was bound up in her; he worshiped the very air she +breathed, and when she mittened him, it almost took his life. He was too old +for her, she said, and then right on top of that we heard after a little that +she married some big bug, I never knew who, plenty old enough to be her father. +That settled it with Joseph; he went into a kind of melancholy, grew worse and +worse, till we put him in the hospital, usin’ his little property to pay +the bill until it was all gone, and now he’s on charity, you know, +exceptin’ what we do. That’s what ’tis about your Uncle +Joseph, and I warn all young girls of thirteen or fourteen not to think too +much of nobody. They are bound to get sick of ’em, and it makes dreadful +work.” +</p> + +<p> +Grandma had an object in telling this to Maddy, for she was not blind to the +nature of the doctor’s interest in her child, and though it gratified her +pride, she felt that it must not be, both for his sake and Maddy’s, so +she told the sad story of Uncle Joseph as a warning to Maddy, who could +scarcely be said to need it. Still it made an impression on her, and all that +afternoon she was thinking of the unfortunate man, whom she had seen but once, +and that in his prison home, where she had been with her grandfather the only +time she had ever ridden in the cars. He had taken her in his arms then, she +remembered, and called her his little Sarah. That must have been the name of +his treacherous betrothed. She would ask if it were not so, and she did. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Sarah Morris, that was her name, and her face was handsome as a +doll,” grandma replied, and wondering if she were as beautiful as Jessie, +or Jessie’s mother, Maddy went back to her reveries of the poor maniac, +whom Sarah Morris had wronged so cruelly. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap08"></a>CHAPTER VIII.<br/> +SHADOWINGS OF WHAT WAS TO BE.</h2> + +<p> +It was very pleasant at Aikenside that afternoon, and the cool breeze blowing +from the miniature fish pond in one corner of the grounds, came stealing into +the handsome parlors, where Agnes Remington, in tasteful toilet, reclined +languidly upon the crimson-hued sofa, bending her graceful head to suit the +height of Jessie, who was twining some flowers among her curls, and +occasionally appealing to Guy to know “if it was not pretty.” +</p> + +<p> +In his favorite seat in the pleasant bay window, opening into the garden, Guy +was sitting, apparently reading a book, though his eyes did not move very +rapidly down the page, for his thoughts were on some other object. When his +pretty stepmother first came to Aikenside, three months before, he had been +half sorry, for he knew just how his quiet would be disturbed, but as the weeks +went by, and he became accustomed to Jessie’s childish prattle and +frolicsome ways, while even Agnes herself was not a bad picture for his +handsome home, he began to feel how he should miss them when they were gone, +Jessie particularly, who made so much sunshine wherever she went, and who was +very dear to the heart of the half-brother. Full well he knew Agnes would +rather stay there, that her income did not warrant as luxurious a home as he +could give her, and that by remaining at Aikenside during the warmer season she +could afford to board through the winter in Boston, where her personal +attractions secured her quite as much attention as was good for her. Had she +been more agreeable to him he would not have hesitated to offer her a home as +long as she chose to remain, but, as it was, he felt that Lucy Atherstone would +be much happier alone with him. Lucy, however, was not coming yet, and until +she did come Agnes perhaps might stay. It certainly would be better for Jessie, +who could have a teacher in the house, and it was upon these matters that he +was reflecting. +</p> + +<p> +As if divining his thoughts Agnes said to him rather abruptly: +</p> + +<p> +“Guy, Ellen Laurie writes me that they are all going to Saratoga for a +time, and then to Newport, and she wished I would join them. Do you think I can +afford it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, that’s splendid, for I’ll stay here while you are +gone, and I like Aikenside so much better than Boston. Mamma can afford it, +can’t she, Guy?” Jessie exclaimed, dropping her flowers and +springing upon her brother’s knee. +</p> + +<p> +Smoothing her bright hair and pinching her soft cheek, Guy replied: +</p> + +<p> +“That means, I suppose, that I can afford it, don’t it? but, puss, +I was thinking just now about your staying here where you really do +improve.” +</p> + +<p> +Then turning to Agnes he made some inquiries as to the plans proposed by the +Laurie’s, ascertaining that Agnes’ plan was as follows: He should +invite her to go with him to Saratoga, or Newport, or both, and that Jessie +meantime should remain at Aikenside, just as she wished to do. +</p> + +<p> +Guy could not find much pleasure in escorting Agnes to a fashionable watering +place, particularly as he was, of course, expected to pay the bills, but he +sometimes did unselfish things; and as he had not been very gracious to her on +the occasion of her last visit to Aikenside, he decided to martyr himself and +go to Saratoga. But who would care for Jessie? She must not be left wholly with +the servants. A governess of some kind must be provided, and he was about +speaking of this to Agnes, when the doctor was announced, and the conversation +turned into another channel. Agnes Remington would not have confessed how much +she was interested in Dr. Holbrook. Indeed, only that morning in reply to a +joking remark made to her by Guy, she had petulantly exclaimed: +</p> + +<p> +“The idea of my caring for him, except as a friend and physician. Why, he +must be younger than I am, or at most about my age. A mere boy, as it +were.” +</p> + +<p> +And yet, in making her toilet that afternoon, she had arranged every part of +her dress with direct reference to the “mere boy,” her heart +beating faster every time she remembered the white sunbonnet and the Scotch +plaid shawl she had seen beside him in the drive that morning. Little Maddy +Clyde would hardly have credited the story had she been told that the beautiful +lady from Aikenside was positively jealous of Dr. Holbrook’s attentions +to herself; yet so it was, and the jealousy was all the more bitter when she +remembered who Madeline was, and how startled that aged couple of the red +cottage would be, could they know who she was. But they did not; she was quite +sure of that; and so she had ventured to pass their door, her heart throbbing +with a strange sensation as the old waymarks came in view, waymarks which she +remembered so well, and around which so many sad memories were clustering. +Agnes was not all bad. Indeed, she was scarcely worse than most vain, selfish +fashionable women; and all that day, since her return from riding, haunting, +remorseful thoughts of the long ago had been clinging to her, making her more +anxious to leave that neighborhood for a time at least, and in scenes of gayety +forget, if possible, that such things as broken vows or broken hearts existed. +</p> + +<p> +The arrival of the doctor dissipated her sadness in a measure, and after +greeting him with her usual expressions of welcome, she said, half playfully, +half spitefully: +</p> + +<p> +“By the way, doctor, who was that old lady, all bent up double in shawls +and things, whom you were taking out for an airing?” +</p> + +<p> +Guy looked up quickly, wondering where Agnes could have seen the doctor, who, +conscious of a sudden pang, answered, naturally: +</p> + +<p> +“That old lady, bent double and bundled in shawls, was young Maddy Clyde, +to whom I thought a short ride might do good.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes; that patient about whom Jessie has gone mad. I am glad to have +seen her.” +</p> + +<p> +There was unmistakable irony in her voice now, and turning from her to Guy, the +doctor continued: +</p> + +<p> +“The old man was telling me to-day of your kindness in saving his house +from being sold. It was like you, Guy; and I wish I, too, had the means to be +generous, for they are so very poor.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll tell you,” said Jessie, who had stolen to the +doctor’s side, and lain her fat, bare arm upon his shoulder, as if he had +been Guy. “You might give Maddy the doctor’s bill. I remember how +mamma cried, and said she never could pay papa’s bill when it was sent +in.” +</p> + +<p> +“Jessie!” said Agnes and Guy, simultaneously, while the doctor +laughingly pulled one of her long, bright curls. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I could do that. I’d thought of it, but they might not accept +it, as they are proud as well as poor.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Markham has no one to care for but his wife and this Madeline, has +he?” Agnes asked, and the doctor replied: +</p> + +<p> +“I did not suppose so until a few days since, when I learned from a Mr. +Green that Mrs. Markham’s youngest and now only brother has been an +inmate of a lunatic asylum for years; and that though they cannot pay his +entire expenses, of course they do all they can toward providing him with +comforts.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is a lunatic asylum, mother? What does he mean?” Jessie +asked, but it was the doctor, not Agnes, who explained to the child what a +lunatic asylum was. +</p> + +<p> +“Is insanity hereditary in this family?” Guy asked. +</p> + +<p> +Agnes’ cheek was very white, though her face was fumed away as the doctor +answered: “I do not know; I did not ask the cause. I only heard the fact +that such a man as Joseph Mortimer exists.” +</p> + +<p> +For a moment there was silence in the room, and then Guy told the doctor of +what himself and Agnes were speaking when he arrived. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose it’s of no use asking you to join us for a week or +so.” +</p> + +<p> +“There was not,” the doctor said. “His patients needed him +and he must stay at home.” +</p> + +<p> +“Doctor, how would this Maddy Clyde do to stay here with Jessie while we +are gone, partly as companion and partly as her teacher?” was Guy’s +next question, which brought Mrs. Agnes at once from her reverie. +</p> + +<p> +“Guy,” she exclaimed, “are you crazy? That child +Jessie’s governess! No, indeed! I shall have a teacher from +Boston—one whose manners and style are unexceptionable.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy had a will of his own, and few could provoke it into action as effectually +as Agnes, who, in thus opposing him, was working directly against herself. +Paying her no attention, except to bow in token that he heard, Guy asked Jessie +her opinion. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, it will be splendid! Can she come to-morrow? I shan’t care how +long you are gone if I can have Maddy here, and doctor will come up every day, +will you, doctor?” and the soft eyes looked up pleadingly into the +doctor’s face. +</p> + +<p> +“It is not settled yet that Maddy comes,” the doctor replied, +adding as an answer to Guy’s question: “If Agnes could be willing, +I do not think you could do better than to secure Miss Clyde’s services. +Two children will thus be made happy, for Maddy, as I have told you, thinks +Aikenside must be a little lower only than Paradise. I shall be happy to open +negotiations, if you say so.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll ride down and let you know to-morrow,” Guy said. +“These domestic matters, where there is a difference of thinking, had +better be discussed alone,” and he turned good-humoredly toward Agnes, +who knew it was useless to oppose him then. +</p> + +<p> +But oppose him she did that night, after the doctor had gone, taking at first +the high stand that sooner than have a country girl like Maddy Clyde associated +daily with her daughter, whether as teacher or companion, she would give up +Saratoga and stay at home. Guy could not explain why it was that opposition +from Agnes always aroused all his powers of antagonism. Yet so it was, and now +he was as fully determined that Maddy Clyde should come to Aikenside as Agnes +was that she should not. He knew, too, how to attain this end without further +altercation. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” was his quiet reply, “you can remain at home if +you choose, of course. I had intended taking you myself, wherever you wished to +go; and not only that, but I was about to ask how much was needed for the +necessary additions to your wardrobe, but if you prefer remaining here to +giving up a most unfounded prejudice against a girl who never harmed you, and +whom Jessie already loves, you can do so,” and Guy walked from the room, +leaving Agnes first to cry, then to pout, then to think it all over, and +finally to decide that going to Saratoga and Newport under the protection of +Guy, was better than carrying out a whim, which, after all, was nothing but a +whim. +</p> + +<p> +Accordingly next morning as Guy was in his library reading his papers, she went +tripping up to him, and folding her white hands upon his shoulder, said, very +prettily: +</p> + +<p> +“I was real cross last night, and let my foolish pride get the +ascendency, but I have considered the matter, and am willing for this Miss +Clyde to come, provided you still think it best.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy’s mustache hid the mischievous smile lurking about his mouth, and he +received the concession as graciously as if he did not know perfectly the +motive which impelled it. As she had commenced being amiable she seemed +determined to continue it, and offered herself to write a note soliciting +Maddy’s services, +</p> + +<p> +“As I am Jessie’s mother, it will be perfectly proper for me to +hire and manage her,” she said, and as Guy acquiesced in this suggestion, +she sat down at the writing desk, and commenced a very pleasantly worded note, +in which Miss Clyde was informed that she had been recommended as a suitable +person with whom to leave Jessie during the summer and a part of the autumn, +and that she, Jessie’s mother, wrote to ask if for the sum of one dollar +per week she were at liberty to come to Aikenside as governess, or +waiting-maid. +</p> + +<p> +“Or what?” Guy asked, as she read to him what she had written. +“Maddy Clyde will not be waiting-maid in this house, neither will she +come for one dollar per week as you propose. I hire her myself. I have taken a +fancy to the girl. Commence again; substitute companion for waiting-maid, and +offering her three dollars per week instead of one.” +</p> + +<p> +As long as Guy paid the bill Agnes could not demur to the price, although +remembering a time when she had taught a district school for one dollar per +week and boarded around besides. She thought three dollars far too much. But +Guy had commanded, and him she generally obeyed, so she wrote another note, +which he approved, and sealing it up sent it by a servant down to the red +cottage. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap09"></a>CHAPTER IX.<br/> +THE DECISION.</h2> + +<p> +The reception of Agnes’ note produced quite a commotion at the red +cottage, where various opinions were expressed as to the prime mover of the +plan, grandpa thinking that as Mrs. Agnes wrote the note, and was most +interested in it, she, of course, had suggested it, grandma insisting that it +was Jessie’s doings, while Maddy, when she said anything, agreed with her +grandmother, though away down in her heart was a tiny spot warm with the half +belief that Mr. Guy himself had first thought of having her at Aikenside, where +she would rather go than to any other spot in the wide world; to Aikenside, +with its shaven lawn, almost large enough to be called a park, with its shaded +paths and winding walks, its costly flowers and running vines, its fountains +and statuary, its fish pond and grove, its airy rooms, its marbled hall, its +winding stairs, with banisters of rosewood, its cupola at the top, from which +so many miles of hill and meadow land could be discerned, its bay windows and +long piazzas, its sweet-faced, golden-haired Jessie, and its manly, noble Guy. +Only the image of Agnes, flashing in silk and diamonds was a flaw on the +picture’s fair surface. From thoughts of her Maddy had insensibly shrank, +until she met her in the carriage, and then received the note asking her +services. These events wrought in her a change, and dread of Mrs. Agnes passed +away. She should like her, and she should be so happy at Aikenside, for, of +course, she was going, and she began to wish the doctor would come so as to +tell her how long before she would be strong enough to perform the duties of +teacher to little Jessie. +</p> + +<p> +At first Grandpa Markham hesitated. It might do Maddy a deal of hurt to go to +Aikenside, he said, her humble home would look mean to her after all that +finery, while the temptations to vanity and ambition would be greater there +than at home; but Maddy put all his objections aside, and long before the +doctor came she had written to Mrs. Agnes that she would go. The doctor could +not understand why it was that in Maddy’s home he did not think as well +of her going to Aikenside as he had done the evening previous. She looked so +bright, so pure, so artless, sitting by her grandfather’s knee, that it +seemed a pity to transplant her to another soil, while, hidden in his heart +where even he did not know it was hidden, was a fear of what might be the +effect of daily intercourse with Guy. Still he said it was the best thing for +her to do, and laughingly remarked that it was far better than teaching the +district school, and then he asked if she would ride again that day; but to +this Mrs. Markham objected. It was too soon, she said, Maddy had hardly +recovered from yesterday’s fatigue, suggesting that as the doctor was +desirous of doing good to his convalescent patients, he carry out poor old deaf +Mary Barnes, who complained that he stayed so long with the child at +“granther Markham’s” as to have but a moment to spare for +her. +</p> + +<p> +Instantly the eyes of Mrs. Markham and the doctor met, the latter feeling very +uncomfortable, while the former was confirmed in the suspicion raised by what +Maddy told her the day before. +</p> + +<p> +It was the doctor who carried Maddy’s answer to Agnes, the doctor who +made all the succeeding arrangements, deciding that Maddy would not be wholly +strong until the very day fixed upon by Agnes for her departure for Saratoga. +For this Guy was sorry. It would have been an easy matter for him to have +ridden down to the cottage, and seen the girl in whom he was beginning to feel +so much interest that in his last letter to Lucy he had mentioned her as about +to become his sister’s governess; but he did not care to see her there. +It seemed to him that the surroundings of that slanting-roofed house did not +belong to her, and he would rather meet her in his own more luxurious home. But +the doctor’s word was law, and so, on the first day of August he followed +Agnes and her three huge traveling trunks to the carriage, and was driven from +the house to which Maddy was coming that afternoon. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap10"></a>CHAPTER X.<br/> +AT AIKENSIDE.</h2> + +<p> +It was a long, tiresome ride, for grandpa, from Honedale to Aikenside, and as +he was not in his wife’s secret, he accepted thankfully the +doctor’s offer to take Maddy there himself. With this arrangement Maddy +was well pleased, as it would thus afford her the opportunity she had so much +desired, of talking with the doctor about his bill, and asking him to wait +until she had earned enough to pay it. +</p> + +<p> +To the aged couple, parting for the first time with their darling, the day was +very sad, but they would not intrude their grief upon the young girl looking so +eagerly forward to the new life opening before her; only grandpa’s voice +faltered a little when, in the morning prayer, he commended his child to God, +asking that she might be kept from temptation, and that the new sights and +scenes to which she was going might not beget in her a love of the +world’s vanities, or a disgust for her old home; but that she might come +back to it the same loving, happy child as she was then, and never be ashamed +of the parents to whom she was so dear. There was an answering sob from the +chair where Maddy knelt, and after the devotions were ended she wound her arm +around her grandfather’s neck, and parting his silvery locks, said to +him, earnestly; +</p> + +<p> +“Grandpa, do you think I could ever be ashamed of you and grandma?” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope not, darling; it would break our hearts; but finery and things is +mighty apt to set folks up, and after you’ve walked a spell on them +velvet carpets, you’ll no doubt think your feet make a big noise on our +bare kitchen floor.” +</p> + +<p> +“That may be, but I shan’t be ashamed of you. No, not if I were +Mrs. Guy Remington herself.” And Maddy emphasized her words with a kiss, +as she thought how nice it would be provided she were a widow, to be Mrs. Guy +Remington, and have her grandparents live at Aikenside with her. +</p> + +<p> +“But, pshaw! I’ll never be Mrs. anybody; and if I am, I’ll +have to have a husband, which would be such a bother!” was her next +mental comment, as, leaving her grandfather, she went to help her grandmother +with the breakfast dishes, wondering when she would wipe those blue cups again, +and how she should probably feel when she did. +</p> + +<p> +Quickly the morning passed, and just as the clock struck two the doctor’s +buggy appeared over the hill. Up to this moment Maddy had only been happy in +anticipation; but when, with her shawl and bonnet on, she stood waiting while +the doctor fastened her little trunk, and when she saw a tear on the wrinkled +faces of both her grandparents, her fortitude gave way; and ’mid a storm +of sobs, she said her good-bys and received her grandfather’s blessing. +</p> + +<p> +It was very pleasant that afternoon, for the summer breeze was blowing cool +across the fields, where the laborers were busy; and with the elasticity of +youth, Maddy’s tears stopped their flowing, but not until the dear old +home had disappeared, and they were some distance on the road to Aikenside. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder how I shall like Mrs. Remington and Mr. Guy?” was the +first remark she made. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll not see them immediately. They left this morning for +Saratoga,” the doctor replied. +</p> + +<p> +“Left! Mr. Guy gone!” Maddy repeated in a disappointed tone. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you very sorry?” the doctor asked, and Maddy replied: +</p> + +<p> +“I did want to see him once; you know I never have.” +</p> + +<p> +It would be such a surprise to find that Guy was no other than the terrible +inspector, that he would not undeceive her, the doctor thought; and so he +relapsed into a thoughtful mood, from which Maddy aroused him by breaking the +subject of the unpaid bill, asking if he’d please not trouble grandpa, +but wait until she could pay it. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps it’s wrong asking it when you were so good, but if you +only will take me for payment,” and Maddy’s soft brown eyes were +lifted to his face. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Maddy, I’ll take you for payment,” the doctor said, +smiling, half seriously, as his eyes rested fondly upon her. +</p> + +<p> +Even then stupid Maddy did not understand him, but began to calculate out loud +how long it would take to earn the money. She’d heard people say that the +doctor charged a dollar a visit to Honedale, and he’d been so many, many +times, that it would take a great many weeks to pay him; besides, there was the +debt to Mr. Guy. She wanted to help pay that, but did not see how she could, +unless he waited, too. Did the doctor think he would? It seemed terrible to the +doctor that one so young as Maddy should be harassed with the payment of debts, +and he felt a most intense desire for the right to shield her from all such +care, but he must not speak of it then; he’d rather she should remain a +little longer an artless child, confiding all her troubles to him as if he had +been her brother. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s Aikenside,” he said, at last, and it was not long +before they passed through the gate, guarded by the great bronze lions, and +struck into the graveled road leading to the house. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s grander, finer, than I ever dreamed. Oh! if I could some time +have just such a home! and doctor, look! What does make that water go up in the +air so? Is it what they call a fountain?” +</p> + +<p> +In her excitement Maddy had risen, and with one hand resting on the +doctor’s shoulder, was looking around her eagerly. Guy Remington would +have laughed, and been gratified, too, could he have heard the enthusiastic +praises heaped upon his home by the little schoolgirl as she drove up to his +door. But Guy was away in the dusty cars, and only Jessie stood on the piazza +to receive her teacher. There were warm words of welcome, kisses and hugs; and +then Jessie led her friend to the chamber she was to occupy. +</p> + +<p> +“Mother wanted you to sleep the other side of the house, but Brother Guy +said no, you should have a pleasant room; and when Guy says a thing, it’s +so. It’s nice in here, and close to me. See, I’m right here,” +and Jessie opened a door leading directly to her own sleeping room. +</p> + +<p> +“Here’s one trunk,” she continued, as a servant brought up +and set down, a little contemptuously, the small hair-cloth box containing +Maddy’s wardrobe. “Here’s one; where’s the rest?” +and she was flying after Tom, when Maddy stopped her, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“I have but one—that’s all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Only that little, teenty thing? How funny. Why, mamma carried three most +as big as my bed to Saratoga. You can’t have many dresses. What are you +going to wear to dinner?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve been to dinner.” And Maddy looked up in some surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“You have! We never have it till five, when Guy is at home; but now they +are gone, Mrs. Noah says we will have it at one, as folks ought to do. To-day I +coaxed her to wait till you come, and the table is all set out so nicely for +two. Can you carve, and do you like green turtle soup?” +</p> + +<p> +Maddy was bewildered, but managed to reply that she could not carve, that she +never saw any green turtle soup, and that she supposed she should wear to +dinner the delaine she had on. “Why, we always change, even Mrs. +Noah,” Jessie exclaimed, bending over the open trunk and examining its +contents. +</p> + +<p> +Two calicoes, a blue muslin, a gingham and another delaine, beside the one she +had on. That was the sum total of Maddy’s wardrobe, and Jessie glanced at +it a little ruefully as Maddy carefully shook out the nicely folded dresses and +laid them upon the bed. Here Mrs. Noah was heard calling Jessie, who ran away +leaving Maddy alone for a moment. +</p> + +<p> +Maddy had seen the look Jessie gave her dresses, and for the first time there +dawned upon her mind the possibility that her plain apparel, and ignorance of +the ways of Aikenside might be to her the cause of much mortification. +</p> + +<p> +“And grandma said they were so nice, too—doing them up so +carefully,” she said, her lip beginning to quiver, and her eyes filling +with tears, as thoughts of home came rushing over her. +</p> + +<p> +She could not force them back, and laying her head upon the top of the despised +hair trunk, she sobbed aloud. Guy Remington’s private room was in that +hall, and as the doctor knew a book was to have been left there for him, he +took the liberty of getting it; passing Maddy’s door he heard the low +sound of weeping, and looking in, saw her where she sat or rather knelt upon +the floor. +</p> + +<p> +“Homesick so soon!” he said, advancing to her side, and then amid a +torrent of tears, the whole came out. +</p> + +<p> +Maddy never could do as they did there, and everybody would laugh at her so for +an awkward thing; she never knew that folks ate dinner at five instead of +twelve—she should surely starve to death—she couldn’t +carve—she could not eat mud-turtle soup, and she did not know which dress +to wear for dinner—would the doctor tell her? There they were, and she +pointed to the bed, only five, and she knew Jessie thought it so mean. +</p> + +<p> +Such was the substance of Maddy’s passionate outpouring of her griefs to +the highly perplexed doctor, who, after quieting her somewhat, ascertained that +the greatest present trouble was the deciding what dress was suitable to the +occasion. The doctor had never made dress his study, but as it happened he +liked blue, and so suggested it, as the one most likely to be becoming. +</p> + +<p> +“That!” and Maddy looked confounded. “Why, grandma never let +me wear that, except on Sunday; that’s my very best dress.” +</p> + +<p> +“Poor child; I’m not sure it was right for you to come here where +the life is so different from the quiet, unpretentious one you have led,” +the doctor thought, but he merely said: “It’s my impression they +wear their best dresses here, all the time.” +</p> + +<p> +“But what will I do when that’s worn out! Oh, dear, dear, I wish I +had not come!” and another impetuous fit of weeping ensued, in the midst +of which Jessie came back, greatly disturbed on Maddy’s account, and +asking eagerly what was the matter. +</p> + +<p> +Very adroitly the doctor managed to draw Jessie aside, while as well as he was +able he gave her a few hints with regard to her intercourse with Maddy, and +Jessie, who seemed intuitively to understand him, went back to the weeping +girl, soothing her much as a little mother would have soothed her child. They +would have such nice times, when Maddy got used to their ways, which would not +take long, and nobody would laugh at her, she said, when Maddy expressed her +fears on that point. “You are too pretty even if you do make +mistakes!” and then she went into ecstasies over the blue muslin, which +was becoming to Maddy, and greatly enhanced her girlish beauty. The tear stains +were all washed away, Jessie using very freely her mother’s +<i>eau-de-cologne</i>, and making Maddy’s cheeks very red with rubbing, +the nut-brown hair was brushed until it shone like satin, a little narrow band +of black velvet ribbon was pinned about Maddy’s snowy neck, and then she +was ready for that terrible ordeal, her first dinner at Aikenside. The doctor +was going to stay, and this helped to relieve her somewhat. +</p> + +<p> +“You must come to the housekeeper’s room and see her first,” +Jessie said, and with a beating heart and brain bewildered by the elegancies +which met her at every turn, Maddy followed to where the dreaded Mrs. Noah, in +rustling back silk and a thread lace collar, sat sewing and greatly enjoying +the leisure she had in her master’s absence. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Noah knew who Maddy was, remembering the old man said that she would not +disgrace a drawing-room as fine as that at Aikenside. She had discovered, too, +that Mrs. Agnes was opposed to her coming, that only Guy’s determined +will had brought her there; and this, if nothing else, had disposed her to feel +kindly toward the little governess. She had expected to see her rather pretty, +but was not prepared to find her what she was. Maddy’s was a singular +type of beauty—a beauty untarnished by any selfish, uncharitable, or +suspicious feeling. Clear and truthful as a mirror, her brown eyes looked into +Mrs. Noah’s, while her low courtesy—so full of deference, found its +way straight to that motherly heart. +</p> + +<p> +“I am glad to see you, Miss Clyde,” she said, “very +glad.” +</p> + +<p> +Maddy’s lip quivered a little and her voice shook as she replied: +</p> + +<p> +“Please call me Maddy. They do at home, and I shan’t be quite +so—so—” +</p> + +<p> +She could not say “homesick,” lest she should break out again into +a fit of crying, but Mrs. Noah understood her, and remembering her own +experience when first she went from home, she involuntarily stooped to kiss the +pure, white forehead of the girl, who henceforth was sure of one friend at +least at Aikenside. +</p> + +<p> +The dinner was a success, so far as Maddy was concerned. Not a single mistake +did she perpetrate, though her cheeks burned painfully as she felt the eyes of +the polite waiters fixed so often upon her, and fancied they might be laughing +at her. But they were not, and thanks to the kind-hearted Guy, they thought of +her only with respect, as one who was their superior and must be treated +accordingly. Knowing how different everything was at Aikenside from that to +which she had been accustomed, Guy, with the thoughtfulness natural to him, had +taken the precaution of speaking to each of the servants concerning Miss Clyde, +Jessie’s teacher. As he could not be there himself when she first came it +would devolve upon them, more or less, to make it pleasant for her by kind, +civil attentions, he said, hinting at the dire displeasure sure to fall on any +one who should be guilty of a misdemeanor in that direction. To Paul, the +coachman, he had been particular in his charges, telling him who Maddy was, and +arguing that from the insolence once given to the grandfather the offender was +bound to be more polite to the grandchild. The carriage was to be at hers and +Jessie’s command, Paul never refusing a reasonable request to drive the +young ladies when and where they wished to go, while a pretty little black +pony, recently broken to the saddle for Agnes, was to be at Miss Clyde’s +service, if she chose to have it. As Guy’s slightest wish was always +obeyed, Maddy’s chances for happiness were not small, notwithstanding +that she felt so desolate and lonely when the doctor left her, and standing by +Jessie she watched him with a swelling heart until he was lost to view in the +deepening twilight. +</p> + +<p> +Feeling that she must be homesick, Mrs. Noah suggested that she try the fine +piano in the little music-room. +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe you can’t play, but you can drum ‘Days of +Absence,’ as most girls do,” and opening the lid she bade Maddy +“thump as long as she liked.” +</p> + +<p> +Music was a delight to Maddy, who coveted nothing so much as a knowledge of it, +and sitting down upon the stool, she touched the soft-toned instrument, +ascertaining by her far several sweet chords, and greatly astonishing Jessie, +who wondered at her skill. Twice each week a teacher came up from Devonshire to +give lessons to Jessie, but as yet she could only play one scale and a few +simple bars. These she attempted to teach to Maddy, who caught at them so +quickly and executed them so well that Jessie was delighted. Maddy ought to +take lessons, she said, and some time during the next day she took to Mrs. Noah +a letter which she had written to Guy. After going into ecstasies over Maddy, +saying she was the nicest kind of a girl, that she prayed in the morning as +well as at night, and looked so sweet in blue, she asked if she couldn’t +take music lessons, too, advancing many reasons why she should, one of which +was that she could play now a great deal better than herself. +</p> + +<p> +It was several days before an answer came to this letter, and when it did it +brought Guy’s consent for Maddy to take lessons, together with a note for +Mr. Simons, requesting him to consider Miss Clyde his pupil, on the same terms +with Jessie. +</p> + +<p> +Though greatly pleased with Aikenside, and greatly attached to Jessie, Maddy +had had many hours of loneliness when her heart was back in the humble cottage +where she knew they were missing her so much, but now a new world, a world of +music, was suddenly opened before her, and the homesickness all disappeared. It +had been arranged with Mrs. Noah, by Agnes, that Jessie should only study for +two hours each day, consequently Maddy had nearly all the time to herself, and +well did she improve it, making so rapid progress that Simons looked on amazed +declaring her case to be without a parallel, while Jessie was left far behind. +Indeed, after a short time Maddy might have been her teacher, and was of much +service to her in practicing her lessons. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile the doctor came often to Aikenside, praising Maddy’s progress +in music, and though he did not know a single note, compelling himself to +listen while with childlike satisfaction she played him her last lesson. She +was very happy now at Aikenside, where all were so kind to her, and half wished +that the family would always remain as it was then, that Agnes and Guy would +not come home, for with their coming she felt there would be a change. It was +nearly time now to expect them. Indeed, Guy had written on one Saturday that +they should probably be home the next, and during the ensuing week Aikenside +presented that most uncomfortable phase of a house being cleaned. Everything +must be in order for Mr. Guy, Mrs. Noah said, taking more pains with his rooms +than with the remaining portion of the building. Guy was her idol; nothing was +too good for him, few things quite good enough, and she said so much in his +praise that Maddy began to shrink from meeting him. What would he think of her? +Perhaps he might not notice her in the least, and that would be terrible. But, +no, a man as kind as he had shown himself to her, would at least pay her some +attention, and so at last she began to anticipate his coming home, wondering +what their first meeting would be, what she should say to him, and what he +would think of her. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap11"></a>CHAPTER XI.<br/> +GUY AT HOME.</h2> + +<p> +Saturday came at last, a balmy September day, when all nature seemed conspiring +to welcome the travelers for whom so extensive preparations were making at +Aikenside. They were expected at about six in the afternoon, and just before +that hour the doctor rode up to be in readiness to meet them. In the +dining-room the table was set as Maddy had never seen it set before, making, +with its silver, its china, and cut-glass, a glittering display. There was +Guy’s seat as carver, with Agnes at the urn, while Maddy felt sure that +the two plates between Agnes and Guy were intended for Jessie and herself, the +doctor occupying the other side. Jessie would sit next her mother, which would +leave her near to Guy, where he could see every movement she made. Would he +think her awkward, or would he, as she hoped, be so much absorbed with the +doctor as not to notice her? Suppose she should drop her fork, or upset one of +those queer-looking goblets, more like bowls than anything else? It would be +terrible, and Maddy’s cheeks tingled at the very thought of such a +catastrophe. Were they goblets really, those funny colored things, and if they +were not, what were they? Summoning all her courage, she asked the doctor, her +prime counselor, and learned that they were the finger-glasses, of which she +had read, but which she had never seen before. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, must I use them?” she asked, in so evident distress that the +doctor could not forbear a laugh as he told her it was not of the slightest +consequence whether she used them or not, advising her to watch Mrs. Agnes, who +was <i>au fait</i> in all such matters. +</p> + +<p> +Six o’clock came, but no travelers. Then an hour went by, and there came +a telegram that the cars had broken down and would not probably arrive until +late in the night, if indeed they did till morning. Greatly disappointed, the +doctor, after dinner, took his leave, telling the girls they had better not sit +up. Consequently, at a late hour they both retired, sleeping so soundly as not +to near the noise outside the house; the banging of doors, the setting down of +trunks, the tramp of feet, Mrs. Noah’s words of welcome, one pleasant +voice which responded, and another more impatient one which sounded as if its +owner were tired and cross. +</p> + +<p> +Agnes and Guy had come. As a whole, Agnes’ season at Saratoga had been +rather disagreeable. Guy, it is true had been exceedingly kind. She had been +flattered by brainless fops. She had heard herself called “that beautiful +Mrs. Remington,” and “that charming young widow,” but no +serious attentions had been paid, no millionaire had asked to be her second +husband. If there had, she would have said yes, for Agnes was not averse to +changing her state of widowhood. She liked the doctor, but if he did not +propose, and some other body did, she should accept that other body, of course. +This was her intention when she left Aikenside, and when she came back, it was +with the determination to raise the siege at once, and compel the doctor to +surrender. She knew he was not wealthy as she could wish, but his family were +the Holbrooks, and as she positively liked him, she was prepared to waive the +matter of money. In this state of mind it is not surprising that the morning of +the return home she should listen with a troubled mind to Jessie’s rather +exaggerated account of the number of times the doctor had been there, and the +nice things he had said to her and Maddy. +</p> + +<p> +“He had visited them ever so much, staying ever so long. I know Maddy +likes him; I do, anyway,” Jessie said, never dreaming of the passion she +was exciting, jealousy of Maddy, hatred of Maddy, and a desire to be revenged +on a girl whom Dr. Holbrook visited “ever so much.” +</p> + +<p> +What was she that he should care for her? A mere nothing—a child, whom +Guy had taken up. Pity there was a Lucy Atherstone in the way of his making her +mistress of Aikenside. It would be a pretty romance, Guy Remington and Grandpa +Markham’s grandchild. Agnes was nervous and tired, and this helped to +increase her anger toward the innocent girl. She would take immediate measures, +she thought, to put the upstart down, and the sight of Flora laying the cloth +for breakfast suggested to her the first step in teaching Maddy her place. +</p> + +<p> +“Flora,” she said, “I notice you are arranging the table for +four. Have we company?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, no, ma’am; there’s Mr. Guy, yourself, Miss Jessie, and +Miss Clyde,” was Flora’s reply, while Agnes continued haughtily: +“Remove Miss Clyde’s plate. No one allows their governess to eat +with them.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, ma’am,” and Flora hesitated, “she’s very +pretty, and ladylike, and young; she has always eaten with Miss Jessie and Dr. +Holbrook when he was here. He treats her as if she was good as anybody.” +</p> + +<p> +In her eagerness to serve Maddy and save her from insult, Flora was growing +bold, but she only hurt the cause by mentioning the doctor. Agnes was +determined now, and she replied: +</p> + +<p> +“It was quite right when we were gone, but it is different now, and Mr. +Remington, I am sure, will not suffer it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Might I ask him?” Flora persisted, her hand still on the plate. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” Agnes would attend to that, and also see Miss Clyde. All +Flora had to do was to remove the plate, which she finally did, muttering to +herself: “Such airs! but I know Mr. Guy won’t stand it.” +</p> + +<p> +Meantime Maddy had put on her prettiest delaine, tied her little dainty black +silk apron, Mrs. Noah’s gift, and with the feeling that she was looking +unusually well, started for the parlor to meet her employer, Mrs. Agnes. Jessie +had gone in quest of her brother, and thus Agnes was alone when Maddy Clyde +first presented herself before her. She had not expected to find Maddy so +pretty, and for a moment the hot blood crimsoned her cheek, while her heart +throbbed wildly beneath the rich morning dress. Dr. Holbrook had cause for +being attracted by that fresh, bright face, she thought, and so she steeled +herself against the better impulses of her nature, impulses which pleaded that +for the sake of the past she should be kind to Maddy Clyde. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, good-morning. You are Jessie’s governess, I presume,” +she said, bowing distantly, and pretending not to notice the hand which Maddy +involuntarily extended toward her. “Jessie speaks well of you, and I am +very glad you suit her. You have had a pleasant time, I trust?” +</p> + +<p> +Her voice was so cold and her manner so distant that Maddy’s eyes for an +instant filled with tears, but she answered civilly that she had been very +happy, and everybody was very kind. It was harder work to put down Maddy Clyde +than Agnes had expected, and after a little further conversation there ensued a +silence, which neither was inclined to break. At last, summoning all her +courage, Agnes began: +</p> + +<p> +“Excuse me, Miss Clyde, but your own good sense, of which I am sure you +have an abundance, must tell you that now Mr. Remington and myself are at home, +your intercourse with our family must be rather limited—that +is—ahem—that is, neither Mr. Remington nor myself are accustomed to +having our governess very much with us. I suppose you have had the range of the +parlors, sitting there when you liked, and all this was perfectly proper. Mind, +I am finding no fault with you. It is all quite right,” she continued, as +she saw the strange look of terror and surprise visible on Maddy’s face. +“The past is right, but in future it will be a little different, I am +willing to accord to a governess all the privileges possible. They are human as +well as myself, but society makes a difference. Don’t you know it +does?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—no—I don’t know. Oh, pray tell me what I am to +do!” Maddy gasped, her face as white as ashes, and her eyes wearing as +yet only a scared, uncertain look. +</p> + +<p> +With little, graceful tosses of the head, which set in motion every one of the +brown curls, Mrs. Agnes replied: +</p> + +<p> +“You are not, of course, to go to Mr. Remington. It is my matter, and +does not concern him. What I wish is this: You are to come to the parlor only +when invited, and are not to intrude upon us at any time, particularly when +company is here, such as—well, such as Dr. Holbrook, if you please. As +you cannot be with Jessie all the while, you will, when your labors as +governess are over, sit in your own room, or the schoolroom, or walk in the +back yard, just as the higher servants do—such as Mrs. Noah and the +sewing girl, Sarah. Occasionally we shall have you in to dine with us, but +usually you will take your meals with Mrs. Noah and Sarah. By following these +directions you will, I think, give entire satisfaction.” +</p> + +<p> +When Mrs. Agnes had finished this, Maddy began to understand her position, and +into her white face the hot blood poured indignantly. Wholly inexperienced, she +had never dreamed that a governess was not worthy to sit at the same table with +her employer, that she must never enter the parlors unbidden, or intrude +herself in any way. No wonder that her cheeks burned at the degradation, or +that, for an instant, she felt like defying the proud woman to her face. But +the angry words trembling on her tongue were repressed as she remembered her +grandfather’s teachings; and with a bow as haughty as any Mrs. Agnes +could have made, and a look on her face which could not easily be forgotten, +she left the room, and in a kind of stunned bewilderment sought the garden, +where she could, unseen, give way to her feelings. +</p> + +<p> +Once alone, the torrent burst forth, and burying her face in the soft grass, +she wept bitterly, never hearing the step coming near, and not at first heeding +the voice which asked what was the matter. Guy Remington, too, had come out +into the garden, accidentally wandering that way, and so stumbling upon the +little figure crying in the grass. He knew it was Maddy, and greatly surprised +to find her thus, asked what was the matter. Then, as she did not hear him, he +laid his hand gently upon her shoulder, compelling her to look up. In all her +imaginings of Guy, she had never associated him with the man who had so puzzled +and confused her, and now she did not for a time suspect the truth. She only +thought him a guest at Aikenside; some one come with Guy, and her degradation +seemed greater than before. She was not surprised when he called her by name; +of course he remembered her, just as she did him; but she did wonder a little +what Mrs. Agnes would say, could she know how kindly he spoke to her, lifting +her from the grass and leading her to a rustic seat at no great distance from +them. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, tell me why you are crying so?” he said, brushing from her +silk apron the spot of dirt which had settled upon it. “Are you +homesick?” he continued, and then Maddy burst out again. +</p> + +<p> +She forgot that he was a stranger, forgot everything except that he sympathized +with her. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, sir,” she sobbed, “I was so happy here till they came +home, Mrs. Remington and Mr. Guy. I never thought it was a disgrace to be a +governess; never heard it was so considered, or that I was not good enough to +eat with them till she told me this. Oh, dear, dear!” and choked with +tears Maddy stopped a moment to take breath. +</p> + +<p> +She did not look up at the young man beside her, and it was well she did not, +for the dark expression of his face would have frightened her. Half guessing +the truth, and impatient to hear more, he said to her: +</p> + +<p> +“Go on,” so sternly, that she started, and replied: +</p> + +<p> +“I know you are angry with me and I ought not to have told you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not angry—not at you at least—go on,” was +Guy’s reply, and Maddy continued: +</p> + +<p> +“She told me that now they had come home it would be different, that only +when invited must I come to the parlor, or anywhere, but must stay in the +servants’ part, and eat with Mrs. Noah and Sarah. I’d just as soon +do that. I am no better than they, only, only—the way she told me made me +feel so mean, as if I was not anybody, when I am,” and here Maddy’s +pride began to rise. “I’m just as good as she, if grandpa is poor, +and I won’t stay here to be treated like a nigger by her and Mr. Guy. I +liked him so much too, because he was kind to grandpa and to me when I was +sick. Yes, I did like him so much.” +</p> + +<p> +“And how is it now?” Guy asked, wondering who in the world she +thought he was. “How is it now?” +</p> + +<p> +“I s’pose it’s wicked to feel such things on Sunday, but, +somehow, what she said keeps making me so bad that I know I hate her, and I +guess I hate Mr. Guy!” +</p> + +<p> +This was Maddy’s answer, spoken deliberately, while she looked up at the +young man, who, with a comical expression about his mouth, answered back: +</p> + +<p> +“I am Mr. Guy.” “You, you! Oh, I can’t bear it! I will +die!” and Maddy sprang up as quickly as if feeling an electric shock. +</p> + +<p> +But Guy’s arm was interposed to stop her, and Guy’s arm held her +back, while he asked where she was going. +</p> + +<p> +“Anywhere, out of sight where you can never see me again,” Maddy +sobbed vehemently. “It is bad enough to have you think me a fool, as you +must; but now, oh what do you think of me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing bad, I assure you,” Guy said, still holding her wrist to +keep her there. “I supposed you knew who I was, but as you did not, I +forgive you for hating me so cordially. If you thought I sanctioned what Mrs. +Remington has said to you, you had cause to dislike me, but Miss Clyde, I do +not, and this is the first intimation I have had that you were to be treated +other than as a lady. I am master of Aikenside, not Mrs. Agnes, who shall be +made to understand it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, please don’t quarrel about me. Let me go home, and then all +will be well,” Maddy cried, feeling, at that moment, more averse to +leaving Aikenside than she could have thought it possible. +</p> + +<p> +“We shall not quarrel, but I shall have my way; meanwhile go to your room +and stay there until told that I have sent for you.” +</p> + +<p> +They went to the house together, but separated in the hall; Maddy repairing to +her room, while Guy sought Mrs. Agnes. The moment she saw his face she knew a +storm was coming, but was not prepared for the biting sarcasm and bitter +reproaches heaped upon her by one who, when roused, was a perfect hurricane. +</p> + +<p> +Maybe she had forgotten what she was when his father married her, he said, but +he had not, and he remembered well the wonder expressed by many that his father +should stoop to marry a poor school teacher. “Yes, that’s what you +were, madam, much as you despise Maddy Clyde for being a governess; you were +one once yourself, and before that time mercy knows what you were—a hired +girl, perhaps—your present airs would seem to warrant as much!” +</p> + +<p> +Guy was in a sad passion by this time, and failed to note the effect his last +words had on Agnes, who turned livid with rage and terror; but smothering down +her wrath, she said beseechingly: +</p> + +<p> +“Pray, Guy, do not be so angry; I know I am foolish about some things, +and proud people who ‘come up’ as you say always are, I guess; I +know that marrying your father made me what I am, but everybody does not know +it, and it is not necessary they should. I don’t remember exactly what I +did say to this Clyde girl, but I thought it would be pleasanter for you, +pleasanter for us all, not to have her always around; it seems she has presided +at the table when Dr. Holbrook was here to tea, and even you can’t think +that quite right.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know why,” and at mention of Dr. Holbrook +Guy’s temper burst out again. “Agnes, you can’t deceive me; I +know the secret of your abominable treatment of Maddy Clyde is jealousy.” +</p> + +<p> +“Guy—jealous, I jealous of that child;” and Agnes’ +voice was expressive of the utmost consternation. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, jealous of that child; you think that because the doctor has been +kind to her, perhaps he wants her some time for his wife. I hope he does; I +mean to help it on; I’ll tell him to have her, and if he don’t +I’ll almost marry her myself!” and Guy paced up and down the +parlor, chafing and foaming like a young lion. +</p> + +<p> +Agnes was conquered, and quite as much bewildered as Maddy had been; she heard +only in part how Maddy Clyde was henceforth to be treated. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes,” she gasped at last, as Guy talked on, “stop now, +for mercy’s sake, and I’ll do anything, only not this morning, my +head aches so I cannot go to the breakfast table; I must be excused,” and +holding her temples, which were throbbing with pain, induced by strong +excitement, Agnes hurried to her own room and threw herself upon the bed, +angry, mortified and subdued. +</p> + +<p> +The breakfast bell had rung twice while Guy was holding that interview with +Agnes, and at last Mrs. Noah came up herself to learn the cause of the delay; +standing in the hall she heard a part of what was transpiring in the parlor. +Mrs. Noah was proud and jealous of her master’s dignity, and once or +twice the thought had crossed her mind that perhaps when he came home Maddy +would be treated more as some governesses were treated by their employers, but +to have Agnes take the matter up was quite a different thing, and Mrs. Noah +smiled with grim satisfaction, as she heard Guy issuing orders as to how Miss +Clyde should be treated. Standing back to let Agnes pass, she waited a moment, +and then, as if she had just come up, presented herself before Guy, asking if +he were ready for breakfast. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, call Miss Clyde; tell her I sent for her,” was Guy’s +answer, and forthwith Mrs. Noah repaired to Maddy’s room, finding her +still sobbing bitterly. +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot go down,” she said; “my face is all stains, and +it’s so dreadful, happening on Sunday, too. What would grandpa +say?” +</p> + +<p> +“You can wash off the stains. Come,” Mrs. Noah said, pouring water +into the bowl, and bidding Maddy hurry, “as Mr. Guy was waiting breakfast +for her.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I am not to eat with them,” Maddy began, when Mrs. Noah +stopped her by explaining how Guy ruled that house, and Agnes had been +completely routed. +</p> + +<p> +This did not quiet Maddy particularly, and her heart beat painfully as she +descended to the parlor, where Guy was still walking up and down. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, Miss Clyde, Jessie is nearly famished,” he said pleasantly, +as Maddy appeared, and without the slightest reference to what had passed he +drew Maddy’s arm within his own, and giving a hand to Jessie, who had +just come in, he went to the breakfast room, where Maddy was told to preside. +</p> + +<p> +Guy watched her closely without seeming to do so, mentally deciding that she +was neither vulgar nor awkward. On the contrary, he thought her very pretty, +and very graceful for one so unaccustomed to society. Nothing was said of +Agnes, who kept her room the entire day, and did not join the family until +evening, when Guy sat upon the piazza with Jessie in his lap, while Maddy was +not very far away. At first there was much constraint between Agnes and Maddy, +but with Guy to manage, it soon wore away, and Agnes felt herself exceedingly +amiable when she reflected how gracious she had been to her rival. +</p> + +<p> +But Maddy could not so soon forget. All through the day the conviction had been +settling upon her that she could not stay at Aikenside, and so on the following +morning, just after breakfast was over, she summoned courage to ask Mr. Guy if +she might talk with film. Leading the way to his library, he bade her sit down, +while he took the chair opposite, and then waited for her to commence. +</p> + +<p> +Maddy was afraid of Guy. He did not seem quite like Dr. Holbrook. He was +haughtier in his appearance, while his rather elaborate style of dress and +polished manners gave him, in her estimation, a kind of superiority over all +the men she had ever met. Besides that, she remembered how his dark eyes had +flashed when she told him what she did the previous day, and also that she had +said to his face that she hated him. She could not bear to leave a bad +impression on his mind, so the first words she said to him were: +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Remington, I can’t stay here after all that has happened. It +would not be pleasant for me or Mrs. Agnes, so I am going home, but I want you +to forget what I said about hating you yesterday. I did not then know who you +were. I don’t hate you. I like you, and I want you to like me.” +</p> + +<p> +She did not look at him, for her eyelids were cast down, and her lashes were +wet with the tears she could scarcely keep from shedding. Guy had never known +much about girls of Maddy’s age, and there was something extremely +fascinating in the artless simplicity of this half child, half woman, sitting +there before him, and asking him so demurely to like her. She was very pretty, +he thought, and with proper culture would make a beautiful woman. Then, as he +remembered his avowed intention of urging the doctor to make her his wife some +day, the idea flashed upon him that it would be very generous, very magnanimous +in him to educate that young girl expressly for the doctor, and though he +hardly seemed to wait at all ere replying to Maddy, he had in the brief +interval formed a skeleton plan, and saw it in all its bearings and triumphal +result. +</p> + +<p> +“I am much obliged for your liking me,” he said, a very little +mischievously. “You surely have not much reason so to do when you recall +the incidents of our first interview. Maddy—Miss Clyde—I have come +to the conclusion that I knew less than you did, and I beg your pardon for +annoying you so terribly.” +</p> + +<p> +Then briefly Guy explained to her how it all had happened, blaming himself far +more than he did the doctor, who, he said, had repented bitterly. “Had +you died, Miss Clyde, when you were so sick, I half believe he would have felt +it his duty to die also. He likes you very much; more indeed than any patient I +ever knew him to have,” and Guy’s eyes glanced curiously at Maddy +to witness the effect his words might have upon her. But Maddy merely answered: +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I think he does like me, and I know I like him.” +</p> + +<p> +Mentally chastising himself for trying to find in Maddy’s head an idea +which evidently never was there, he began to speak of her proposition of leave, +saying he should not suffer it, Jessie needed her and she must stay. She was +not to mind the disagreeable things Mrs. Remington had said. She was tired and +nervous, and so gave way to some very preposterous notions, which she had +picked up somewhere. She would treat Maddy better hereafter, and she must stay. +It was pleasanter for Jessie to have a companion so near her own age. Then, as +he saw signs of yielding in Maddy’s face, he continued: +</p> + +<p> +“How would you like to turn scholar for a short time each day, I being +your teacher? Time often hangs heavily upon my hands, and I fancy the novelty +of the thing would suit me. I have books. I will appoint your lessons and the +hour for recitation.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy’s face was scarlet by the time he finished speaking, for suddenly he +remembered to have heard or read of a similar instance which resulted in the +marriage of the teacher and pupil; besides that it would subject him to so much +remark, when it was known that he, the fashionable and fastidious Guy, was +teaching a pretty, attractive girl like Maddy Clyde, and he sincerely hoped she +would decline. But Maddy had no such intention. Always in earnest herself, she +supposed every one else meant what they said, and without ever suspecting the +peculiar position in which such a proceeding would place both herself and Guy, +her heart leaped up at the idea of knowing what was in the books she had never +dared hope she might study. With her beautiful eyes full of tears, which shone +like diamonds, as she lifted them to Guy’s face, she said: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I thank you so much. You could not make me happier, and I’ll +try so hard to learn. They don’t teach such things at the district +school; and when there was a high school in Honedale I could not go, for it was +three dollars a quarter, and grandpa had no three dollars for me. Uncle Joseph +needed help, and so I stayed at home. It’s dreadful to be poor, but, +perhaps, I shall some time be competent to teach in a seminary, and won’t +that be grand? When may I begin?” +</p> + +<p> +Guy had never met with so much frankness and simplicity in any one, unless it +were in Lucy Atherstone, of whom Maddy reminded him somewhat, except that the +latter was more practical, more—he hardly knew what—only there was +a difference, and a thought crossed his mind that if Maddy had had all +Lucy’s advantages, and was as old, she would be what the world calls +smarter. There was no disparagement to Lucy in his thoughts, only a compliment +to Maddy, who was waiting for him to answer her question. There was no +retracting now; he had offered his services; she had accepted; and with a +mental comment: “I dread Doc’s fun the most, so I’ll explain +to him how I am educating her for the future Mrs. Dr. Holbrook,” he +replied: +</p> + +<p> +“As soon as I am rested from my journey, or sooner, if you like; and now +tell me, please, who is this Uncle Joseph of whom you speak?” +</p> + +<p> +He remembered what the doctor had said of a crazy uncle, but wishing to hear +Maddy’s version of it, put to her the question he did. +</p> + +<p> +“Uncle Joseph is grandma’s youngest brother,” Maddy answered, +“and he has been in the lunatic asylum for years. As long as his little +property lasted, his bills were paid, but now they keep him from charity, only +grandpa helps all he can, and buys some little nice things which he wants so +badly, and sometimes cries for, they say. I picked berries all last summer, and +sold to buy him a thin coat and pants. We should have more to spend than we do, +if it were not for Uncle Joseph,” and Maddy’s face wore a +thoughtful expression as she recalled all the shifts and turns she’d seen +made at home that the poor maniac might be more comfortable. +</p> + +<p> +“What made him crazy?” Guy asked, and after a moment’s +hesitancy Maddy replied: “I don’t believe grandma would mind my +telling you, though she don’t talk about it much. I only knew it a little +while ago. He was disappointed once. He loved a girl very much, and she made +him think that she loved him. She was many years younger than Uncle +Joseph—about my age at first, and when she grew up she said she was sick +of him, because he was so much older. He wouldn’t have felt so badly, if +she had not gone straight off and married a rich man who was a great deal older +even than Uncle Joseph; that was the hardest part, and he grew crazy at once. +It has been so long that he never can be helped, and sometimes grandma talks of +bringing him home, as he is perfectly harmless. I suppose it’s wicked, +but I most hope she won’t, for it would be terrible to live with a crazy +man,” and a chill crept over Maddy, as if there had fallen upon her a +foreshadowing of what might yet be. “Mr. Remington,” she continued +suddenly, “if you teach me, I can’t, of course, expect three +dollars a week. It would not be right.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perfectly right,” he answered. “Your services to Jessie will +be worth just as much as ever, so give yourself no trouble on that +score.” +</p> + +<p> +He was the best man that ever lived, Maddy thought, and so she told the doctor +that afternoon when, as he rode up to Aikenside, she met him out on the lawn +before he reached the house. +</p> + +<p> +It did strike the doctor a little comically that one of Guy’s habits +should offer to turn school teacher, but Maddy was so glad, that he was glad +too, and doubly glad that across the sea there was a Lucy Atherstone. How he +wished that she was there now as Mrs. Guy, and he must tell Guy so that very +day. Seated in Guy’s library, the opportunity soon occurred, Guy +approaching the subject himself by saying: +</p> + +<p> +“Guess, Hal, what crazy project I have just embarked in.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know without guessing; Maddy told me,” and the doctor’s +eyebrows were elevated just a little as he crossed his feet upon the window +sill and moved his chair so as to have a better view of Maddy and Jessie +romping in the grass. +</p> + +<p> +“And so you don’t approve?” was Guy’s next remark, to +which the doctor replied: +</p> + +<p> +“Why, yes; it’s a grand thing for her, providing you know enough to +teach her; but, Guy, this is a confounded gossiping neighborhood, and folks +will talk, I’m afraid.” +</p> + +<p> +“Talk about what!” and Guy bridled up as his independent spirit +began to rise, “What harm is there in my doing a generous act to a poor +girl like Maddy Clyde? Isn’t she graceful as a kitten, though?” and +Guy nodded toward the spot where she was playing. +</p> + +<p> +It annoyed the doctor to have Guy praise Maddy, but he would not show it, and +answered calmly: +</p> + +<p> +“It’s all right in you, but just because the poor girl is Maddy +Clyde, folks will talk. She is too handsome, Guy, for Madam Grundy to let +alone. If Lucy were only here, it would be different. Why, in the name of +wonder, are you two not married, if you are ever going to be?” +</p> + +<p> +“Jealous, as I live!” and Guy’s hand came down playfully on +the doctor’s shoulder. “I did not suppose you had got as far as +that. You are afraid of the effect it may have on me teaching a sweet-faced +little girl how to conjugate amo; and to cover up your own interest, you bring +Lucy forward as an argument. Eh, Hal, have I not probed the secret?” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor was in no mood for joking, and only smiled gloomily, while Guy +continued: +</p> + +<p> +“Honestly, doctor, I am doing it for you. I imagine you fancy her, as +well you may. She’ll make a splend’d woman, but she needs +educating, of course, and I am going to do it. You ought to thank me, instead +of looking so like a thundercloud,” and Guy laughed merrily. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor was ashamed of his mood, and could not tell what spirit prompted him +to answer: +</p> + +<p> +“I am obliged to you, Guy; but as far as I am concerned, you may spare +yourself the trouble. If my wife needs educating, I can do it myself.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy was puzzled. Could it be that, after all, he was deceived, and the doctor +did not care for Maddy? It might be, and he hastened to change the conversation +to another topic than Maddy Clyde. The doctor stayed to dinner, and as Guy +watched him closely, he made up his mind that he did care for Maddy Clyde, and +this confirmed him in his plan of educating her for him. +</p> + +<p> +Magnanimous Guy! He felt himself very good, very generous, very condescending, +and very forgiving, the early portion of the afternoon; but later in the day he +began to view Guy Remington in the light of a martyr, said martyrdom consisting +in the scornful toss of the head with which Agnes had listened to his plan, and +the open opposition of Mrs. Noah. +</p> + +<p> +“Was he beside himself, or what?” this worthy asked. “She +liked Maddy Clyde, to be sure, but it wasn’t for him to demean himself by +turning her school master. Folks would talk awfully, and she couldn’t +blame ’em; besides, what would Lucy say to his bein’ alone in a +room with a girl as pretty as Maddy? It was a duty he owed her at any rate to +tell her all about it, and if she said ’twas right, why, go it.” +</p> + +<p> +This was the drift of Mrs. Noah’s remarks, and as Guy depended much on +her judgment, he decided to write to Lucy to see if she had the slightest +objections to his teaching Maddy Clyde. Accordingly he wrote that very night, +telling her frankly all he knew concerning Maddy Clyde, and narrating the +circumstances under which he first had met her, being careful also to repeat +what he knew would have weight with an English girl like Lucy, to wit, that +though poor, Maddy’s father and grandfather Clyde had been gentlemen, the +one a clergyman, the other a sea captain. Then he told of her desire for +learning, and his plan to teach her himself, of what the doctor and Mrs. Noah +said about it, and his final determination to consult her. Then he described +Maddy herself, feeling a strange thrill as he told how pure, how innocent, how +artless and beautiful she was, and asked if Lucy feared aught from his +association with her. +</p> + +<p> +“If you do,” he wrote, “you have but to say so, and though I +am committed, I will extricate myself in some way rather than wound you in the +slightest degree.” +</p> + +<p> +It would be some time ere an answer to this letter could be received, and until +such time Guy could not honorably hear Maddy’s lessons as he had agreed +to do. But Maddy was not suspicious, and accepting his trivial excuse, waited +patiently, while he, too, waited for the letter, wondering what it would +contain. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap12"></a>CHAPTER XII.<br/> +A GENEROUS LETTER.</h2> + +<p> +At last the answer came, and it was Maddy who brought it to Guy. She had been +home that day, and on her return had ridden by the office as Guy had requested +her to do. She saw the letter bore a foreign postmark, also that it was in the +delicate handwriting of some female, but the sight did not affect her in the +least. Maddy’s heart was far too heavy that day to care for a trifle, and +so placing the letter carefully in her basket she kept on to Aikenside. +</p> + +<p> +The letter was decidedly Lucy-ish in all that pertained to her “dearest +darling,” her “precious Guy,” but when she came to Maddy +Clyde, her true, womanly nature spoke; and Guy, while reading it, felt how good +she was. Of course he might teach Maddy Clyde all he wished to teach her, and +it made Lucy love him better to know that he was willing to do such things. She +wished she was there to help him; they would open a school for all the poor, +but she did not know when mamma would let her come. That pain in her side was +not any better, and her cough had come earlier this season than last. The +physician had advised a winter in Naples, and they were going before very long. +It would be pleasant there, no doubt, only she should be farther away from her +boy Guy, but she would think of him, oh, so often, teaching that dear little +Maddy Clyde, and she would pray for him, too, just as she always did. Then +followed a few more lines sacred to the lover’s eye, lines which told how +pure was the love which sweet Lucy Atherstone bore for Guy Remington, who, as +he read, felt his heart beat with a throb of pain, for Lucy spoke to him now +for the first time of what might possibly be. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve dreamed about it nights,” she said. “I’ve +thought about it days, and tried so hard to be reconciled; to feel that if God +will have it so, I am willing to die before you have ever called me your little +wife, or I have ever called you husband. Heaven is better than earth, I know, +and I am sure of going there, I think, but oh, dear Guy, a life with you looks +so very sweet, that sometimes your little Lucy shrinks from the dark grave, +which would hide her forever from you. Guy, you once said you never prayed, and +it made me feel so badly, but you will, when you get this, won’t you? You +will ask God to make me well, and may be He will hear you. Do, Guy, please do +pray for your Lucy, far away over the sea.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy could not resist that touching appeal, “to pray for his little +Lucy,” and though his lips were all unused to prayer, bowing his head +upon his hands he did ask that she might live, beseeching the Father to send +upon him any calamity save this one—Lucy must be spared. Guy felt better +for having prayed, it was something to tell Lucy, something that would please +her well, and though his heart yet was very sad, a part of the load was lifted, +and he could think of Lucy now without the bitter pain her letter first had +cost him. Was there nothing that would save her, nobody who could cure her? Her +disease was not hereditary; surely it might be made to yield; had English +physicians no skill, would not an American do better? It was possible, and if +that mother of Lucy’s would let her come where doctors knew something, +she might get well; but she wouldn’t; she was determined that no husband +should be burdened with an ailing wife, and so if the mountain would not come +to Mahomet, why, Mahomet must go to the mountain, and Guy fairly leaped from +his chair as he exclaimed: “I have it—Doc!—he’s the +most skillful man I ever knew; I’ll send him to England; send him to the +Atherstones; he shall go to Naples with them as their family physician; he can +cure Lucy; I’ll speak to him the very next time he comes here;” and +with another burden lifted from his mind, Guy began to wonder where Maddy was, +and why that day had been so long. +</p> + +<p> +He knew she had returned, for Flora had said she brought the letter, and he was +about going out, in hopes of finding her and Jessie, when he heard her in the +hall, as she answered some question of Mrs. Noah’s; stepping to the door, +he asked her to come in, saying he would, if she chose, appoint the lessons +talked about so long. Ordinarily, Maddy’s eyes would have flashed with +delight, for she had anticipated so much from these lessons; now, however, +there was a sad look upon her face and she could scarcely keep from crying as +she came at Guy’s bidding, and sat upon the sofa, near to his armchair. +Somehow it rested Guy to look at Maddy Clyde, who, having recovered from her +illness, seemed the very embodiment of perfect health, a health which glowed +and sparkled all over her bright face; showing itself as well in the luxuriance +of her glossy hair as in the brilliancy of her complexion, and the flash of her +lustrous eyes. How Guy wished that Lucy could share in what seemed almost +superfluity of health; and why shouldn’t she? Dr. Holbrook had cured +Maddy; Dr. Holbrook could cure Lucy; and so for the present dismissing that +from his mind, he turned to Maddy, and said the time had come when he could +give those promised lessons, asking if she would commence to-morrow, after she +was through with Jessie, and what she would prefer to take up first? +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Mr. Remington,” and Maddy began to cry: “I am afraid I +cannot stay they need me at home, or maybe Grandpa said so and I don’t +want to go, though I know it’s wicked not to; oh, dear, dear!” +</p> + +<p> +Here Maddy broke down entirely, sobbing so convulsively that Guy became +alarmed, and wondered what he ought to do to quiet her. As she sat the bowed +head was just within his reach, and so he very naturally laid his hand upon it, +and as if it had been Jessie’s smoothed the silken hair, while he asked +why she must go home. Had anything occurred to make her presence more necessary +than it was at Aikenside? and into the young man’s heart there crept a +feeling that Aikenside would be very lonely without Maddy Clyde. +</p> + +<p> +Controlling her voice as well as she was able, Maddy told him how the +physicians at the asylum had written that as Uncle Joseph would in all human +probability never be perfectly sane, and as a change of scene would do him +good, Mr. Markham had better try taking him a while; that having been spoken +with upon the subject, he seemed as anxious as a little child, even crying when +the night came around and he was not at home, as he expressed it. “They +have kept him so long,” Maddy said, “that grandpa thought it his +duty to relieve them, though he can’t well afford it, and so he’s +coming next week, and grandma will need some one to help, and I must go. I know +it’s wrong, but I do not want to go, try as I will.” +</p> + +<p> +It was a gloomy prospect to exchange Aikenside for the humble home where +poverty had its abode, and it was not very strange that Maddy should shrink +from it at first. She did not stop to ask what was her duty, or think how much +happiness her presence might give her grandparents, or how much she might cheer +and amuse the weak imbecile, her uncle. She was but human, and so when Guy +began to devise ways of preventing her going, she listened, while the pain at +her heart grew less as her faith in Guy grew stronger. He would drive down with +her to-morrow, he said, and see what could be done. Meanwhile she must dry her +eyes and go to Jessie, who was calling her. +</p> + +<p> +As Guy had half expected, the doctor came around that evening, and inviting him +into his private room, Guy proceeded at once to unfold his scheme, asking him +first: +</p> + +<p> +“How much he probably received a year for his services as +physician.” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor could not tell at once, but after a little thought made an estimate, +and then inquired why Guy had asked the question. +</p> + +<p> +“Because, Doc, I have a project on foot. Lucy Atherstone is dying with +what they call consumption. I don’t believe those old fogies understand +her disease, and if you will go over to England and undertake her cure, +I’ll give you just double what you’ll get by remaining here. They +are going to Naples for the winter, and, undoubtedly, will spend some time in +Paris. It will be just the thing for you. Lucy and her mother will be glad of +your services when they know I sent you, Lucy likes you now. Will you go? You +can trust Maddy to me. I’ll take good care that she is worthy of you when +you come back.” +</p> + +<p> +At the mention of Maddy’s name, the doctor’s brow darkened. He was +sure that Guy meant kindly, but it grated on his feelings to be thus joked +about what he knew was a stern reality. Guy’s project appeared to him at +first a most insane one, but as he continued to enlarge upon it, and the +advantage it would be to the doctor to travel in the old world, a feeling of +enthusiasm was kindled in his own breast; a desire to visit Naples and France, +and the places he had dreamed of as a boy, but never hoped to see, Guy’s +plan began to look more feasible, and possibly he might have yielded but for +one thought, and that a thought of Maddy Clyde. He would not leave her alone +with Guy, even though Guy was true to Lucy as steel. He would stay; he would +watch; and in time he would win the young girl waiting now for him in the hall +below, waiting to tell him ’mid blushes of shame and tears of regret how +she had meant to pay him with her very first wages, but now, Uncle Joseph was +coming home, and he must wait a little longer. +</p> + +<p> +“Would he, could he be so good?” and unmindful of Guy’s +presence Maddy laid her hand confidingly upon his arm, while her soft eyes +looked beseechingly into his. +</p> + +<p> +How the doctor wished Guy was away, and kindly taking the hint, Guy left them +together in the lighted hall. Sitting down on the sofa, and making Maddy sit +beside him, the doctor began: +</p> + +<p> +“Maddy, you know I mean what I say, at least to you, and when I tell you +that I never think of that bill except when you speak of it, you will believe +me. I know your grandfather’s circumstances, and I know, too, that I did +much to induce your sickness, consequently if I made one out at all, it would +be a very small one.” +</p> + +<p> +He did not get any further, for Maddy hastily interrupted him, and while her +eyes flashed with pride, exclaimed: +</p> + +<p> +“I will not be a charity patient! I say I will not! I’d be a hired +girl before I’d do it!” +</p> + +<p> +It troubled the doctor to see Maddy so disturbed about dollars and +cents—to know that poverty was pressing its iron hand upon her young +heart; and only because she was so young did he refrain from offering her then +and there a resting place from the ills of life in his sheltering love. But she +was not prepared, and he should only defeat his object by his rashness, so he +restrained himself, though he did pass his arm partly around her waist as he +said to her: +</p> + +<p> +“I tell you, Maddy, honestly, that when I want that bill liquidated +I’ll ask you. I certainly will, and I’ll let you pay it, too. Does +that satisfy you?” +</p> + +<p> +Yes, Maddy was satisfied, and after a little the doctor continued: +</p> + +<p> +“By the way, Maddy, I have some idea of going to Europe for a few months, +or a year or more. You know it does a physician good to study awhile in Paris. +What do you think of it? Shall I go?” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor had become quite necessary to Maddy’s happiness. He it was to +whom she confided all her little troubles, and to lose him would be a terrible +loss, and so she answered that if it would be much better for him she supposed +he ought to go, though she should miss him sadly and be so lonely without him. +</p> + +<p> +“Would you, Maddy? Are you in earnest? Would you be lonelier for my being +gone?” the doctor asked, eagerly. With her usual truthfulness, Maddy +replied: “Of course I should;” and, when, after the conference was +ended, the doctor stood for a moment talking with Guy, ere bidding him +good-night, he said: “I think I shall not accept your European +proposition. Somebody else must cure Lucy.” +</p> + +<p> +The next day, as Guy had proposed, he rode down to Honedale, taking Maddy with +him, and offering so many reasons why she should not be called home, that the +old people began to relent, particularly as they saw how Maddy’s heart +was set on the lessons Guy was going to give her. She might never have a like +opportunity, the young man said, and as a good education would put her in the +way of helping them when they were older and needed her more, it was their duty +to leave her with them. He knew they objected to her receiving three dollars a +week, but he should pay it just the same, and if they chose they might, with a +part of it, hire a little girl to do the work which Maddy would do were she at +home. All this sounded very feasible, especially as it was backed up by +Maddy’s eyes, brimful of tears, and fixed pleadingly upon her +grandfather. The sight of them, more than Guy’s arguments, influenced the +old man, who decided that if grandma were willing Maddy should stay, unless +absolutely needed at the cottage. Then the tears burst forth, and winding her +arms around her grandfather’s neck, Maddy sobbed out her thanks, asking +if it were selfish and wicked and naughty in her to prefer learning rather than +staying there. +</p> + +<p> +“Not if that’s your only reason,” grandpa replied. +“It’s right to want learning, quite right; but, if my child is +biased by the fine things at Aikenside, and hates to come back to her poor +home, because ’tis poor, I should say it was very natural, but not +exactly right.” +</p> + +<p> +Maddy was very happy after it was settled, and chatted gayly with her +grandmother, while Guy went out with her grandfather, who wished to speak with +him alone. +</p> + +<p> +“Young man,” he said, “you have taken a deep interest in me +and mine since I first came to know you, and I thank you for it all. I’ve +nothing to give in return except my prayers, and those you have every day; you +and that doctor. I pray for you two just as I do for Maddy. Somehow you three +come in together. You’re uncommon good to Maddy. ’Tain’t +every one like you who would offer and insist on learning her. I don’t +know what you do it for. You seem honest. You can’t, of course, ever +dream of making her your wife, and, if I thought—yes, if I +supposed”—here grandpa’s voice trembled, and his face became +a livid hue with the horror of the idea—“if I supposed that in your +heart there was the shadow of an intention to deceive my child, to ruin my +Maddy, I’d throttle you here on the spot, old as I am, and bitterly as I +should repent the rashness.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy attempted to speak, but grandpa motioned him to be silent, while he went +on: +</p> + +<p> +“I do not suspect you, and that’s why I trust her with you. My old +eyes are dim, but I can see enough to know that Maddy is beautiful. Her mother +was so before her, and the Clydes were a handsome race. My Alice was elevated, +folks thought, by marrying Captain Clyde, but I don’t think so. She was +pure and good as the angels, and Maddy is much like her, only she has the +ambition of the Clydes: has their taste for everything a little above her. She +wouldn’t make nobody blush if she was mistress of Aikenside.” +</p> + +<p> +Grandpa felt relieved when he had said all this to Guy, who listened politely, +smiling at the idea of his deceiving Maddy, and fully concurring with grandpa +in all he said of her rare beauty and natural gracefulness. On their return to +the house grandpa showed Guy the bedroom intended for Uncle Joseph, and Guy, as +he glanced at the furniture, though within himself how he would send down from +Aikenside some of the unused articles piled away on the garret when he +refurnished his house. He was becoming greatly interested in the Markhams, +caring nothing for the remarks his interest might excite among the neighbors, +some of whom watched Maddy half curiously as in the stylish carriage, beside +its stylish owner, she rode back to Aikenside in the quiet, autumnal afternoon. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap13"></a>CHAPTER XIII.<br/> +UNCLE JOSEPH.</h2> + +<p> +In course of time Uncle Joseph came as was arranged, and on the day following +Maddy and Guy rode down to see him, finding him a tall, powerfully built man, +retaining many vestiges of manly beauty, and fully warranting all Mrs. Markham +had said in his praise. He seemed perfectly gentle and harmless, though when +Guy was announced as Mr. Remington, Maddy noticed that in his keen black eyes +there was for an instant a fiery gleam, but it quickly passed away, as he +muttered: +</p> + +<p> +“Much too young; he was older than I, and I am over forty. It’s all +right.” +</p> + +<p> +And the fiery eye grew soft and almost sleepy in its expression, as the poor +lunatic turned next to Maddy, telling her how pretty she was, asking if she +were engaged, and bidding her be careful that her <i>fiancé</i> was not more +than a dozen years older than herself. +</p> + +<p> +Uncle Joseph seemed to take to her from the very first, following her from room +to room, touching her fair, soft cheeks, smoothing her silken hair, telling her +Sarah’s used to curl, asking if she knew where Sarah was, and finally +crying for her as a child cries for its mother, when at last she went away. +Much of this Maddy had repeated to Jessie, as in the twilight they sat together +in the parlor at Aikenside; and Jessie was not the only listener, for, with her +face resting on her hand, and her head bent eagerly forward, Agnes sat, so as +not to lose a word of what Maddy was saying of Uncle Joseph. The intelligence +that he was coming to the red cottage had been followed with a series of +headaches, so severe and protracted that Dr. Holbrook had pronounced her really +sick, and had been unusually attentive. Anxiously she had waited for the result +of Maddy’s visit to the poor lunatic, and her face was colorless as +marble as she heard him described, while a faint sigh escaped her when Maddy +told what he had said of Sarah. +</p> + +<p> +Agnes was changed somewhat of late. She had grown more thoughtful and quiet, +while her manner toward Maddy was not as haughty as formerly. Guy thought her +improved, and thus was not so delighted as he would otherwise have been, when, +one day, about two weeks after Uncle Joseph’s arrival at Honedale, she +startled him by saying she thought it nearly time for her to return to Boston, +if she meant to spend the winter there, and asked what she should do with +Jessie. +</p> + +<p> +Guy was not quite willing for Agnes to leave him there alone, but when he saw +that she was determined, he consented to her going, with the understanding that +Jessie was to remain—a plan which Agnes did not oppose, as a child so +large as Jessie might stand in the way of her being as gay as she meant to be +in Boston. Jessie, too, when consulted, said she would far rather stay at +Aikenside; and so one November morning, Agnes, wrapped in velvet and furs, +kissed her little daughter, and bidding good-by to Maddy and the servants, left +a neighborhood which, since Uncle Joseph was so near, had become so intolerable +that not even the hope of winning the doctor could avail to keep her in it. +</p> + +<p> +Guy accompanied her to the city, wondering why, when he used to like it so +much, it now seemed dull and tiresome, or why the society he had formerly +enjoyed failed to bring back the olden pleasure he had experienced when a +resident of Boston. Guy was very popular there, and much esteemed by his +friends of both sexes, and great were the efforts made to entertain and keep +him as long as possible. But Guy could not be prevailed upon to stay there +long, and after seeing Agnes settled in one of the most fashionable boarding +houses, he started for Aikenside. +</p> + +<p> +It was dark when he reached home, and as the evening had closed in with a heavy +rain, the house presented rather a cheerless appearance, particularly as, in +consequence of Mrs. Noah’s not expecting him that day, no fires had been +kindled in the parlors, or in any room except the library. There a bright coal +fire was blazing in the grate, and thither Guy repaired, finding, as he had +expected, Jessie and her teacher. Not liking to intrude on Mr. Guy, of whom she +still stood somewhat in awe, Maddy soon arose to leave, but Guy bade her stay; +he should be lonely without her, he said, and so bringing her work she sat down +to sew, while Jessie looked over a book of prints, and Guy upon the lounge +studied the face which, it seemed to him, grew each day more and more +beautiful. Then he talked with her of books, and the lessons which were to be +resumed on the morrow, watching Maddy as her bright face sparkled and glowed +with excitement. Then he questioned her of her father’s family, feeling a +strange sense of satisfaction in knowing that the Clydes were not a race of +whose blood any one need be ashamed; and Maddy was more like them he was sure +than like the Markhams, and Guy shivered a little as he recalled the peculiar +dialect of Mr. and Mrs. Markham, and remembered that they were Maddy’s +grandparents. Not that it was anything to him. Oh, no, only as an inmate of his +family he felt interested in her, more so perhaps than young men were apt to be +interested in their sister’s governess. +</p> + +<p> +Had Guy then been asked the question, he would, in all probability, have +acknowledged that in his heart there was a feeling of superiority to Maddy +Clyde; that she was not quite the equal of Aikenside’s heir, nor yet of +Lucy Atherstone. It was natural; he had been educated to feel the difference, +but any haughty arrogance of which he might have been guilty was kept down by +his extreme good sense and generous, impulsive nature. He liked Maddy; he liked +to look at her as, in the becoming crimson merino which he really and Jessie +nominally had given her, she sat before him, with the firelight falling on her +beautiful hair, and making shadows on her sunny face. +</p> + +<p> +Guy was luxurious in his tastes, and it seemed to him that Maddy was just the +picture to set off that room, or in fact all the rooms at Aikenside. She would +disgrace none of them, and he found himself wishing that Providence had made +her something to him—sister or cousin, or anything that would make her +one of the Remington line. +</p> + +<p> +And now, my reader, do not fall to abusing Guy, or accuse him of forgetting +Lucy Atherstone, for he did not. He thought of her many times that evening, and +in his dreams that night Lucy and Maddy shared pretty equally, but the latter +was associated with the lessons of the morrow, while Lucy was the bright +daystar for which he lived and hoped. +</p> + +<p> +It did not take long for the people of Sommerville to hear that Guy Remington +had actually turned schoolmaster, having in his library for two hours or more +each day Jessie’s little girl-governess, about whose brilliant beauty +there was so much said—people wondering, as people will, where it would +end, and if it could be possible that the haughty Guy had forgotten his English +Lucy and gone to educating a wife. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor, to whom these remarks were sometimes made, silently gnashed his +teeth, then said savagely that “if Guy chose to teach Maddy Clyde, he did +not see whose business it was,” and then rode over to Aikenside to see +the teacher and pupil, half hoping that Guy would soom tire of his project and +give it up. But Guy grew more and more pleased with his employment, until, at +last, from giving Maddy two hours of his time, he came to give her four, +esteeming them the pleasantest of the whole twenty-four. Guy was proud of +Maddy’s improvement, praising her often to the doctor, who also marveled +at the rapid development of her mind and the progress she made, grasping a +knotty point almost before it was explained, and retaining with wonderful +tenacity what she learned. +</p> + +<p> +It mattered nothing to Guy that neighbors gossiped there were none familiar +enough to tell him what was said, except the doctor or Mrs. Noah; and so he +heard few of the remarks made so frequently, As in Honedale, so in Sommerville +Maddy was a favorite, and those who interested themselves most in the matter +never said anything worse of her and Mr. Guy than that he might perhaps be +educating his own wife, and insinuating that it would be a great “come +up” for Grandfather Markham’s child. But Maddy never dreamed of +such a thing, and kept on her pleasant way, reciting every day to Guy and going +every Wednesday to the red cottage, whither, after the first visit to Uncle +Joseph, Guy never accompanied her. Jessie, on the contrary, went often to +Honedale, where one at least always greeted her coming, stealing up closely to +her, and whispering softly: “My Daisy is come again.” +</p> + +<p> +From the first Uncle Joseph had taken to Jessie, calling her Sarah for a while, +and then changing the name to “Daisy”—“Daisy Mortimer, +his little girl,” he persisted in calling her, watching from his window +for her coming, and crying whenever Maddy appeared without her. At first Agnes, +from her city home, forbade Jessie’s going so often to see a lunatic; but +when Jessie described the poor, crazy man’s delight at sight of her, +telling how quiet and happy he seemed if he could but lay his hand on her head, +or touch her hair, she withdrew her restrictions, and, as if moved to an +unwonted burst of tenderness, wrote to her daughter: “Comfort that crazy +man all you can; he needs it so much.” +</p> + +<p> +A few weeks after there came another letter from Agnes, but this time it was to +Guy, and its contents darkened his handsome face with anger and vexation. +Incidentally Agnes had heard the gossip, and written it to Guy, adding in +conclusion: “Of course I know it is not true, for ever if there were no +Lucy Atherstone, you, of all men, would not stoop to Maddy Clyde. I do not +presume to advise, but I will say this, that now she is growing a young lady, +folks will keep on talking so long as you keep her there in the house; and +it’s hardly fair toward Lucy.” +</p> + +<p> +This was what knotted up Guy’s forehead and made him, as Jessie said, +“real cross for once.” Somehow, he fancied, latterly, that the +doctor did not like Maddy’s being there, while even Mrs. Noah managed to +keep her out of his way as soon as the lessons were ended. What did they mean? +what were they afraid of, and why did they presume to interfere with him? +he’d know, at all events; and summoning Mrs. Noah to his presence, he +read that part of Agnes’ letter, pertaining to Maddy, and then asked what +it meant. +</p> + +<p> +“It means this, that folks are in a constant worry, for fear you’ll +fall in love with Maddy Clyde.” +</p> + +<p> +“I fall in love with that child!” Guy repeated, laughing at the +idea, and forgetting that he had long since, accused the doctor of doing that +very thing. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, you,” returned Mrs. Noah, “and ’taint strange +they do; Maddy is not a child: she’s nearer sixteen than fifteen, is +almost a young lady; and if you’ll excuse my boldness, I must say, I +ain’t any too well pleased with the goin’s on myself; not that I +don’t like the girl, for I do, and I don’t blame her an atom. +She’s as innocent as a new-born babe, and I hope she’ll always stay +so; but you, Mr. Guy, you—now tell me honest—do you think as much +of Lucy Atherstone, as you used to, before you took up +school-keepin’?” +</p> + +<p> +Guy did not like to be interfered with, and naturally high-spirited, he at +first flew into a passion, declaring that he would not have folks meddling with +him, that he thought of Lucy Atherstone all the time, and he did not know what +more he could do; that ’twas a pity if a man could not enjoy himself in +his own way, provided that way were harmless, that he’d never, in all his +life, spent so happy a winter as the last; that—- +</p> + +<p> +Here Mrs. Noah interrupted him with: “That’s it, the very +<i>it</i>; you want nothing better than to have that girl sit close to you when +she recites, as she does; and once when she was workin’ out some of them +plusses and minuses, and things, her slate rested on your knee; it did, I saw +it with my own eyes; and then, let me ask, when Jessie is drummin’ on the +piano, why don’t you bend over her, and turn the leaves, and count the +time, as you do when Maddy plays; and how does it happen that lately Jessie is +one too many, when you hear Maddy’s lessons. She has no suspicions, but I +know she ain’t sent off for nothin’; I know you’d rather be +alone with Maddy Clyde than to have anybody present, isn’t it so?” +</p> + +<p> +Guy began to wince. There was much truth in what Mrs. Noah had said. He did +devise various methods of getting rid of Jessie, when Maddy was in his library, +but it had never looked to him in just the light it did when presented by Mrs. +Noah, and he doggedly asked what Mrs. Noah would have him do. +</p> + +<p> +“First and foremost, then, I’d have you tell Maddy yourself that +you are engaged to Lucy Atherstone; second, I’d have you write to Lucy +all about it, and if you honestly can, tell her that you only care for Maddy as +a friend; third, I’d have you send the girl—-” +</p> + +<p> +“Not away from Aikenside! I never will!” and Guy sprang to his +feet. +</p> + +<p> +The mine had exploded, and for an instant the young man reeled, as he caught a +glimpse of where he stood; still he would not believe it, or confess to himself +how strong a place in his affections was held by the beautiful girl now no +longer a child. It was almost a year since that April afternoon when he first +met Maddy Clyde, and from a timid, bashful child, of fourteen and a half, she +had grown to the rather tall, and rather self-possessed maiden of fifteen and a +half, almost sixteen, as Mrs. Noah said, “almost a woman;” and as +if to verify the latter fact, she herself appeared at that very moment, asking +permission to come in and find a book, which had been mislaid, and which she +needed in hearing Jessie’s lessons. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly, come in,” Guy said, and folding his arms he leaned +against the mantel, watching her as she hunted for the missing book. +</p> + +<p> +There was no pretense about Maddy Clyde, nothing put on for effect, and yet in +every movement she showed marks of great improvement, both in manner and style. +Of one hundred people who might glance at her, ninety-nine would look a second +time, asking who she was. Naturally graceful and utterly forgetful of herself, +she always appeared to good advantage, and never to better than now, when two +pairs of eyes were watching her, as standing on tiptoe, or kneeling upon the +floor to look under the secretary, she hunted for the book. Not the remotest +suspicion had Maddy of what was occupying the thoughts of her companions, +though as she left the room and glanced brightly up at Guy, it struck her that +his face was dark and moody, and a painful sensation flitted through her mind +that in some way she had intruded. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” was Mrs. Noah’s first comment, as the door closed on +Maddy, but as Guy made no response to that, she continued: “She is +pretty. That you won’t deny.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, more than pretty. She’ll make a most beautiful woman.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy seemed to talk more to himself than to Mrs. Noah, while his foot kicked the +fender, and he mentally compared Lucy and Maddy with each other, and tried to +think that it was not the result of that comparison, but rather Mrs. +Noah’s next remark, which affected him unpleasantly. The remark or +remarks were as follows: +</p> + +<p> +“Of course she’ll make a splendid woman. Everybody notices her now +for her beauty, and that’s why you’ve no business to keep her here +where you see her every day. It’s a wrong to her, lettin’ yourself +alone.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy looked up inquiringly, and Mrs. Noah continued: +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve been a girl myself, and I know that Maddy can’t be +treated as you treat her without its having an effect. I’ve no idea that +it’s entered her head yet, but it will by-and-by, and then good-by to her +happiness.” +</p> + +<p> +“For pity’s sake, what do you mean? Do explain, and not talk to me +in riddles. What have I done to Maddy, or what am I going to do?” +</p> + +<p> +Gay spoke savagely, and his boots were in great danger of being burned as he +kicked vigorously against the fender. Coming nearer to him, and lowering her +voice, Mrs. Noah replied: +</p> + +<p> +“You are going to teach her to love you, Guy Remington, just as sure as +my name is Noah.” +</p> + +<p> +“And is that anything so very bad, I’d like to know. Most girls do +not find love distasteful,” and Guy walked hastily to the window, where +he stood for a moment gazing out upon the soft April snow, which was falling, +and feeling anything but satisfied either with the weather or himself; then +walking back, and taking a seat before the fire, he said: “I understand +you now. You would save Maddy Clyde from sorrow, and you are right. You know +more of girls than I do. She might in time get to—to—think of me as +she ought not. I never looked upon it in this light before. I’ve been so +happy with her;” here Guy’s voice faltered a little, but he +recovered himself and went on: “I will tell her about Lucy tonight, but +the sending her away, I can’t do that. Neither will she be happy to go +back where I took her from, for though the best of people, they are not like +Maddy, and you know it.” +</p> + +<p> +Yes, Mrs. Noah did know it, and pleased that her boy, as she called Guy, had +shown some signs of penitence and amendment, she said she did not think it +necessary to send Maddy home; she did not advise it either. She liked the girl, +and what she advised was this, that Guy should send Maddy and Jessie both to +boarding school. Agnes, she knew, would be willing, and it was the best thing +he could do. Maddy would thus learn what was expected of a teacher, and as soon +as she graduated, she could procure some eligible situation, or if Lucy were +there, and desired it, she could come and stay forever for all what she cared. +</p> + +<p> +“And during the vacations, where must she go then?” Guy asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Go where she pleases, of course. As Jessie is so fond of her, and they +are much like sisters, it will not be improper for her to come here, as I see, +provided Agnes is here. Her presence, of course, would make a +difference,” Mrs. Noah replied, while Guy continued: +</p> + +<p> +“I know you are right; that is, I do not wish to do Maddy a harm by +placing temptation in her way, neither will I have everybody meddling with my +business. I tell you I won’t. I don’t mean you, for you have a +right to say what no one else has,” and he glanced half angrily at Mrs. +Noah. “Pity if I can’t take an interest in a girl, because I once +wronged her, without every old woman in Christendom thinking she needs to fall +in love with me, and so be ruined for life. Maddy Clyde has too good sense for +that, or will have when I tell her about Lucy.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you will do so?” Mrs. Noah said coaxingly. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I will, and write to Lucy, too, telling her how you talked, +and how I care no more for Maddy than I do for Jessie.” +</p> + +<p> +“And will that be true?” Mrs. Noah asked. +</p> + +<p> +Guy could not look her fully in the face then, so he kicked the grate until the +concussion sent the red-hot coals out upon the carpet as he replied: +</p> + +<p> +“True? Yes, every word of it.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Noah noted all this, and thinking within herself: +</p> + +<p> +“I orto have took him in hand long ago,” she came up to him and +said kindly, soothingly: “We shall all miss Maddy; I as much as any one, +but I do think it best for her to go to school; and so, after tea, I’ll +manage to keep Jessie with me, and send Maddy to you, while you tell her about +Lucy and the plan.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy nodded a little jerking kind of a nod, in token of his assent, and then +with that perversity which prompts women particularly to press a subject after +enough has been said upon it, Mrs. Noah, as she turned to leave the room, gave +vent to the following: +</p> + +<p> +“You know, Guy, as well as I, that pretty and smart as she is, Maddy is +really beneath you, and no kind of a match, even if you wan’t as good as +married, which you be;” and the good lady left the room in time to escape +seeing the sparks fly up the chimney, as Guy now made a most vigorous use of +the poker, and so did not finish the scorching process commenced on the end of +his boot. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Noah’s last remark awakened in Guy a Singular train of thought. Yes, +Maddy was his inferior as the world saw matters, and settling himself in the +chair he tried to fancy what that same world would say if he should make Maddy +his wife. Of course he had no such intention, he was just imagining something +which never could possibly happen, because in the first place he wouldn’t +marry Maddy Clyde if he could, and he couldn’t if he would! Still, it was +not an unpleasant occupation fancying what folks, and especially Agnes, would +say if he did, and so he sat dreaming about it until the bell rang for supper, +when with a nervous start he woke from the reverie, and wishing the whole was +over, started for the supper. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap14"></a>CHAPTER XIV.<br/> +MADDY AND LUCY.</h2> + +<p> +Supper was over, and Guy was back again in his library. He had not stopped as +he usually did, to romp with Jessie or talk to Maddy Clyde, until it was so +dark that he could not see her sparkling face, but had come directly back, +dropping the heavy curtains and piling fresh coal upon the fire. Mrs. Noah had +lighted the lamps and then gone after Maddy, explaining to Jessie how she must +stay with her while Maddy went to Mr. Guy, who wanted to talk with her. +</p> + +<p> +“Is he angry with me, Mrs. Noah?” and remembering his moody looks +when she went in quest of the book, Maddy felt her heart misgive her as to what +might be the result of an interview with Guy. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Noah, however, reassured her, and Maddy stole for a moment to her own room +to see how she was looking. The crimson dress, with its soft edge of lace about +the slender throat, became her well, and smoothing the folds of her black silk +apron, whose jaunty shoulder pieces gave her a very girlish appearance, she +went down to where Guy was waiting for her. He heard her coming, and +involuntarily drew nearer to him the chair where he intended she should sit. +But Maddy took instead a stool, and leaning her elbow on the chair, turned her +face fully toward him, waiting for him to speak. +</p> + +<p> +“Maddy,” he began, “are you happy here at Aikenside?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, very, very happy,” and Maddy’s soft eyes shone with +the happiness she tried to express. +</p> + +<p> +It was at least a minute before he spoke again, and when he did, it came out +how he had concluded it best to send her and Jessie to school, for a year or +two at least; not that he was tired of teaching her, but it would be better for +her, he thought, to mingle with other girls and learn the ways of the world. +Aikenside would still be her home, still the place where her vacations would be +spent with Jessie if she chose, and then he spoke of New York as the place he +had in view, and asked her what she thought of it. +</p> + +<p> +Maddy was too much stunned to think of anything at first. That the good she had +coveted most should be placed within her grasp, and by Guy Remington too, was +almost too much to credit. She was happy at Aikenside, but she had never +expected her life there to continue very long, and had often wished that when +it ended she might devise some means of entering a seminary as other young +ladies did. But she had never dreamed of being sent to school by Guy, nor could +she conceive of his motive. He hardly knew himself, only he liked her, and +wished to do something for her. This was his reply to her tearful question: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Mr. Remington, you are so good to me; what makes you?” +</p> + +<p> +He liked her, and all over Maddy’s face there spread a beautiful flush as +the words rang in her ears. And then she told Guy how much she wished to be a +teacher, and so take care of her grandparents and her poor Uncle Joseph. It +seemed almost cruel for that young creature to be burdened with the care of +those three half-helpless people, and Guy shuddered just as he usually did when +he associated Maddy with them, but when he listened while she told him of all +the castles she had built, and in every one of which there was a place for +“our folks,” as she termed them, it was more in the form of a +blessing than a caress that his hand rested on her shining hair. +</p> + +<p> +“You are a good girl, Maddy,” he said, “and I am glad now +that I have concluded to send you where you can be better fitted for the office +you mean to fill than you could be here, but I shall miss you sadly. I like +little girls, and though you can hardly be classed there now, you seem to me +much like Jessie, and I take pleasure in doing for you as I would for her. +Maddy—-” +</p> + +<p> +Guy stopped, uncertain what to say next, while Maddy’s eyes again looked +up inquiringly. +</p> + +<p> +He was going now to tell “the little girl much like Jessie” of Lucy +Atherstone, and the words would not come at first. +</p> + +<p> +“Maddy,” he said, again blushing guiltily, “I have said I +liked you, and so I hope will some one else. I have written of you to +her.” +</p> + +<p> +Up to this point Maddy had a vague idea that he meant the doctor, but the +“her” dispelled that thought, and a most inexplicable feeling of +numbness crept over her as she asked faintly: +</p> + +<p> +“Written to whom?” +</p> + +<p> +Guy did not look at Maddy. He only knew that her head moved out from beneath +his hand as he replied: +</p> + +<p> +“To Miss Atherstone—Miss Lucy Atherstone. Have you never heard of +her?” +</p> + +<p> +No, Maddy never had, and with that same numbness she could not understand, she +listened while Guy told her who Lucy Atherstone was, and why she was not at +that moment the mistress of Aikenside. There was no reason why Guy should be +excited, but he was, and he talked very rapidly, never once glancing at Maddy +until he had finished speaking. She was looking at him intently, wondering if +he could hear as she did the beatings of her heart. Had her life depended upon +it, she could not at first have spoken, for the numbness which, like bands of +steel, seemed to press all the feeling out of it. She did not know why it was +that hearing of Lucy Atherstone should affect her so. Surely she ought to be +glad for Guy that he possessed the love of so sweet a creature as he described +her to be. He was glad, she knew, he talked so energetically—so much as +if it were a pleasure to talk; and she was glad, too, only it had taken her so +by surprise to know that Mr. Guy, whom she had rather considered as exclusively +her own and Jessie’s was engaged, and that some time, before long it +might be, Aikenside would really have a mistress. She did not quite understand +Guy’s last words, although she was looking at him, and he asked her twice +if she would like to see Lucy’s picture ere she comprehended what he +meant. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” came faintly from the parted lips, about which there was a +slight quiver as she put up her hand to take the case Guy drew from his bosom. +</p> + +<p> +Turning it to the light she gazed silently upon the sweet young face, which +seemed to return her gaze with a look as earnest and lifelike as her own. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you think of her—of my Lucy? Is she not pretty?” Guy +asked, bending down so that his dark hair swept against Maddy’s, while +his warm breath touched her burning cheeks. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, she’s beautiful, oh! so beautiful, and happy, too. I wish I +had been like her. I wish—” and Maddy burst into a most +uncontrollable fit of weeping, her tears dropping like rain upon the inanimate +features of Lucy Atherstone. +</p> + +<p> +Guy looked at her amazed, his own heart throbbing with a keen pang of something +undefinable as he listened to her stormy weeping. What did ail her? he +wondered. Could it be that the evil against which he was providing had really +come upon her? Was Maddy more interested in him than he supposed? He hoped not, +though with a man’s vanity he felt a slight thrill of satisfaction in +thinking that it might be so. Guy knew this feeling was not worthy of him, and +he struggled to cast it off, while he asked Maddy why she cried. +</p> + +<p> +Child as she was, the real cause of her tears never entered her brain, and she +answered: +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t tell why, unless I was thinking how different Miss +Atherstone is from me. She’s rich and handsome. I am poor and homely, +and—” +</p> + +<p> +“No, Maddy, you are not;” and Guy interrupted her. +</p> + +<p> +Gently lifting up her head, he smoothed back her hair, and keeping a hand on +each side of her face, said, pleasantly: +</p> + +<p> +“You are not homely. I think you quite as pretty as Lucy; I do, +really,” he continued, as her eyes kindled at the compliment. “I am +going to write to her to-night, and shall tell her more about you. I want you +to like each other very much when she comes, so that you may live with us. +Aikenside would not be Aikenside without you, Maddy.” +</p> + +<p> +In all his wooings of Lucy Atherstone, Guy’s voice had never been +tenderer in its tone than when he said this to Maddy, whose lip quivered again, +and who involuntarily laid her head now upon his knee as she cried a second +time, not noisily, but quietly, softly, as if this crying did her good. For +several minutes they sat there thus, the nature of their thoughts known only to +each other, for neither spoke, until Maddy, half ashamed of her emotions, +lifted up her head, and said: +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know what made me cry, only I’d been so happy here that I +guess I’d come to think that you only liked Jessie and me. Of course I +knew that some time you would see and think all the world of somebody else, but +I did not expect it so soon. I am afraid Miss Atherstone will not fancy me, and +I know most I shall not feel as free here, after she comes, as I do now. Then +your being so good, sending me to school, helped me to cry more, and so I was +very foolish. Don’t tell Miss Atherstone that I cried. Tell her, though, +how beautiful she is, and how glad I am that she loves you, and is going to be +your wife.” +</p> + +<p> +Maddy’s voice was very steady in its tone. She evidently meant what she +said, but Guy, the bad man, did not feel as graciously as he ought to have felt +in knowing that Maddy Clyde was glad “Lucy loved him, and was to be his +wife.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy was rather uncomfortable, and as Maddy was in some way associated with his +discomfort, he did not oppose her when she arose to leave him. +</p> + +<p> +Had Maddy been more a woman, or less a child, she would have seen that it was +well for her to know of Lucy Atherstone before her feelings for Guy Remington +had assumed a definite form. As it was, she never dreamed how near she was to +loving Aikenside’s young heir; and while talking with Jessie of the grand +times they should have at school, she marveled at that little round spot of +pain which was burning at her heart, or why she should wish that Guy would not +speak of her in his letter to Lucy Atherstone. +</p> + +<p> +But Guy did speak of her, frankly confessing the interest he felt in her, +telling just how people were beginning to talk, and asking Lucy if she cared, +declaring that if she did, he would not see Maddy Clyde any more than was +necessary. In a little less than four weeks there came an answer from Lucy, +who, with health somewhat improved, had returned to England, and wrote to Guy +from Brighton, where she expected to spend the summer, half hoping Guy might +join her there, though she could not urge it, as mamma still insisted that she +was not able to take upon herself the duties of a wife. Then she spoke of Maddy +Clyde, saying “She was not one bit jealous of her dear Guy, Of course +ignorant, meddling people, of whom she feared there were a great many in +America, would gossip, but he was not to mind them.” Then she said that +if Maddy were willing, she would so much like her picture, as she had a +curiosity to know just how she looked, and if Maddy pleased, “would she +write a few lines, so as not to seem so much a stranger?” +</p> + +<p> +Lucy Atherstone had been educated to think a great deal of birth, and blood, +and family, and Guy never did a wiser thing than when he told her that +according to English views, Maddy was a lady. It went far toward reconciling +Lucy to his interest in one whom her haughtier and more sanguine mother called +a rival, advising her mother to ignore her altogether. But Lucy’s was a +different nature, and though it cost her pride a pang, she asked for a line +from Maddy, partly to mortify that pride, and partly to prove to Guy how free +she was from jealousy. +</p> + +<p> +“Darling little Lucy, I do love her very dearly,” was Guy’s +comment, as he finished reading her letter, feeling somewhat as if her mother +were a kind of cruel ogress, bent on preventing him from being happy. Then, as +he remembered Lucy’s hope that he might join her, and thought how much +easier of access New York was than Brighton, he said, half petulantly: +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve been to England for nothing times enough. When that mother of +hers says I may have Lucy, I’ll go again, but not before. It don’t +pay.” +</p> + +<p> +And crushing the letter into his pocket, he went out upon the piazza where were +assembled Maddy, Jessie and Mrs. Agnes, the latter of whom had come to +Aikenside the day before. +</p> + +<p> +At first she had objected to the boarding-school arrangement, saying Jessie was +too young, but Guy as usual had overruled her objections, as he had those of +Grandpa Markham, and it was now a settled thing that Maddy and Jessie both +should go to New York, Mrs. Agnes to accompany them if she chose, and having a +general supervision of her child. This was Guy’s plan, the one which had +prevailed with the fashionable woman, who, tired of Boston, was well pleased +with the prospect of a life in New York. Guy’s interest in Maddy was +wholly inexplicable to her, unless she explained it on the principal that in +the Remington nature there was a fondness for governesses, as had been +exemplified in her own history. That Guy would ever marry Maddy she doubted, +but the mere possibility of it made her set her teeth firmly together as she +thought how embarrassing it would be to acknowledge as the mistress of +Aikenside the little girl whom she had sought to banish from her table. Since +her return she had had no opportunity of judging for herself how matters stood, +and was consequently much relieved when, as Guy joined them, he began at once +to speak of Lucy, telling of the letter, and her request for Maddy’s +picture. +</p> + +<p> +“Me? Mine? You cannot mean that?” Maddy exclaimed, her eyes opening +wide with wonder, but Guy did mean it, and began to plan a drive on the morrow +to Devonshire, where there was at that time a tolerably fair artist. +</p> + +<p> +Accordingly the next day the four went down to Devonshire, calling first upon +the doctor, whose face brightened when he heard why they had come. During the +weeks that had passed, the doctor had not been blind to at that was passing at +Aikenside, and the fear that Guy was more interested in Maddy than he ought to +be, had grown almost to a certainty. Now, however, he was not so sure. Indeed, +the fact that Guy had told her of Lucy Atherstone would indicate that his +suspicions were groundless, and he entered heartily into the picture plan, +saying laughingly that if he supposed Miss Lucy would like his face he’d +sit himself, and bidding Guy be sure to ask her. The doctor’s gay spirits +helped raise those of Maddy, and as that little burning spot in her heart was +fast wearing away, she was in just the mood for a most admirable likeness. +Indeed, the artist’s delight at his achievement was unbounded, as he +declared it the very best picture he had ever taken. It was beautiful, even +Agnes acknowledged to herself, while Jessie wait into raptures, and Maddy +blushed to hear her own praises. Guy said nothing, except to ask that Maddy +should sit again; this was good, but a second might be better. So Maddy sat +again, succeeding quite as well as at first, but as the artist’s +preference was for the former, it was left to be finished up, with the +understanding that Guy would call for it. As the ladies passed down the stairs, +Guy lingered behind, and when sure they were out of hearing, said in a low +voice: +</p> + +<p> +“You may as well finish both; they are too good to be lost.” +</p> + +<p> +The artist bowed, and Guy, with a half guilty blush, hurried down into the +street, where Agues was waiting for him. Two hours later, Guy, in Mrs. +Conner’s parlor, was exhibiting the finished picture, which in its +handsome casing, was more beautiful than ever, and more natural, if possible. +</p> + +<p> +“I think I might have one of Maddy’s,” Jessie said, half +poutingly; then, as she remembered the second sitting, she begged of Guy to get +it for her, “that was a dear brother.” +</p> + +<p> +But the “dear brother” did not seem inclined to comply with her +request, putting her off, until, despairing of success, Jessie, when alone with +the doctor, tried her powers of persuasion on him, coaxing until in +self-defense he crossed the street, and entering the daguerrean gallery asked +for the remaining picture of Miss Clyde, saying that he wished it for little +Miss Remington. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Remington took them both,” the artist replied, commencing a +dissertation on the style and beauty of the young girl, all of which was lost +upon the doctor, who, in a kind of maze, quitted the room, and returning to +Jessie, said to her carelessly: “He hasn’t it. You know they rub +out those they do not use. So you’ll have to do without; and, Jessie, I +wouldn’t tell Guy I tried to get it for you.” +</p> + +<p> +Jessie wondered why she must not tell Guy, but the fact that the doctor +requested her not was sufficient. Consequently Guy little guessed that the +doctor knew what it was he carried so carefully in his coat pocket, looking at +it earnestly when at home and alone in his own room, admiring its soft, girlish +beauty, half shrinking from the lifelike expression of the large, bright eyes, +and trying to convince himself that his sole object in getting it was to give +it to the doctor after Maddy was gone! It would be such a surprise, and the +doctor would be so glad, that Guy finally made himself believe that he had done +a most generous thing! +</p> + +<p> +“I am going to send Lucy your picture to-day, and as she asked that you +should write her a few lines, suppose you do it now,” Guy said to Maddy +next morning, as they were leaving the breakfast table. +</p> + +<p> +It was a sore trial to Maddy to write to Lucy Atherstone, but she offered no +remonstrance, and so accompanying the picture was a little note, filled mostly +with praises of Mr. Guy, and which would be very gratifying to the unsuspecting +Lucy. +</p> + +<p> +Now that it was fully decided for Jessie to go with Maddy, her lessons were +suspended, and Aikenside for the time being was turned into a vast dressmaking +and millinery establishment. With his usual generosity, Guy had given Agnes +permission to draw upon his purse for whatever was needed, either for herself +or Jessie, with the definite understanding that Maddy should have an equal +share of dress and attention. +</p> + +<p> +“It will not be necessary,” he said, “for you to enlighten +the citizens of New York with regard to Maddy’s position. She goes there +as Jessie’s equal, and as such her wardrobe must be suitable.” +</p> + +<p> +No one could live long with Maddy Clyde without becoming interested in her, and +in spite of herself Agnes’ dislike was wearing away, particularly as of +late she had seen no signs of special attention on the doctor’s part. He +had gotten over his weakness, she thought, and so was very gracious toward +Maddy, who, naturally forgiving, began to like her better than she had ever +dreamed it possible for her to like so proud and haughty a woman. Down at the +cottage in Honedale there were many consultations held and many fears expressed +by the aged couple as to what would be the result of all Guy was doing for +their child. Womanlike, Grandma Markham felt a flutter of pride in thinking +that Maddy was going to school in a big city like New York. It gave her +something to talk about with her less fortunate neighbors, who wondered, and +gossiped, and envied, but could not bring themselves to feel unkindly toward +the girl Maddy, who had grown up in their midst, and who as yet was wholly +unchanged by prosperity. Grandpa Markham, on the contrary, though pleased that +Maddy should have every opportunity for acquiring the education she so much +desired, was fearful of the result—fearful that there might come a time +when his darling would shrink from the relations to whom she was as sunshine to +the flowers. He knew that the difference between Aikenside and the cottage must +strike her unpleasantly every time she came home, and he did not blame her for +her always apparent readiness to go back. That was natural, he thought, but a +life in New York, that great city which to the simple-hearted old man seemed a +very Babylon of iniquity, was different, and for a time he demurred to sending +her there. But Guy persuaded him, and when he heard that Agnes was going, too, +he consented, for he had faith in Agnes as a protector. Maddy had never told +him of the scene which followed that lady’s return from Saratoga. Indeed, +Maddy never told anything but good of Aikenside or its inmates, and so Mrs. +Agnes came in for a share of the old people’s gratitude, while even Uncle +Joseph, hearing daily a prayer for the “young madam,” as grandpa +termed her, learned to pray for her himself, coupling her name with that of +Sarah, and asking in his crazy way that God would “forgive Sarah” +first, and then “bless the madam—the madam—the madam.” +</p> + +<p> +A few days before Maddy’s departure, grandpa went up to see “the +madam;” anxious to know something more than hearsay about a person to +whose care his child was to be partially intrusted. Agnes was in her room when +told who wanted to see her. Starting quickly, she turned so deadly white that +Maddy, who brought the message, flew to her side, asking in much alarm, what +was the matter. +</p> + +<p> +“Only a little faint. It will soon pass off,” Agnes said, and then, +dismissing Maddy, she tried to compose herself sufficiently to pass the ordeal +she so much dreaded, and from which there was no possible escape. +</p> + +<p> +Thirteen years! Had they changed her past recognition? She hoped, she believed +so, and yet, never in her life had Agnes Remington’s heart beaten with so +much terror and apprehension as when she entered the reception room where Guy +sat talking with the infirm old man she remembered so well. He had grown older, +thinner, poorer looking, than when she saw him last, but in his wrinkled face +there was the same benignant, heavenly expression which, when she was better +than she was now, used to remind her of the angels. His snowy hair was parted +just the same as ever, but the mild blue eye was dimmer, and it rested on her +with no suspicious glance as, partially reassured, she glided across the +threshold, and bowed civilly when Guy presented her. +</p> + +<p> +A little anxious as to how her grandfather would acquit herself, Maddy sat by, +wondering why Agnes appeared so ill at ease, and why her grandsire started +sometimes at the sound of her voice, and looked earnestly at her. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ve never met before to my knowledge, young woman,” he +said once to Agnes, “but you are mighty like somebody, and your voice +when you talk low keeps makin’ me jump as if I’d heard it summers +or other.” +</p> + +<p> +After that Agnes spoke in elevated tones, as if she thought him deaf, and the +mystified look of wonder did not return to his face. Numerous were the charges +he gave to Agnes concerning Maddy, bidding her be watchful of his child, and +see that she did not “get too much drinked in with the wicked things on +Broadway!” then, as he arose to go, he laid his trembling hand on her +head and said solemnly: “You are young yet, lady, and there may be a long +life before you. God bless you, then, and prosper you in proportion as you are +kind to Maddy. I’ve nothing to give you nor Mr. Guy for your goodness +only my prayers, and them you have every day. We all pray for you, lady, Joseph +and all, though I doubt me he knows much the meaning of what he says.” +“Who, sir? What did you say?” and Agnes’ face was scarlet, as +grandpa replied: “Joseph, our unfortunate boy; Maddy must have told you, +the one who’s taken such a shine to Jessie. He’s crazy-like, and +from the corner where he sits so much, I can hear him whispering by the hour, +sometimes of folks he used to know, and then of you, who we call madam. He says +for ten minutes on the stretch: “God bless the madam—the +madam—the madam!” You’re sick, lady; talkin’ about +crazy folks makes you faint,” grandpa added, hastily, as Agnes turned +white, like the dress she wore. “No—oh, no, I’m better +now,” Agnes gasped, bowing him to the door with a feeling that she could +not breathe a moment longer in his presence. He did not hear her faint cry of +bitter, bitter remorse, as he walked through the hall, nor know she watched him +as he went slowly down the walk, stopping often to admire the fair blossoms +which Maddy did not feel at liberty to pick. “He loved flowers,” +Agnes whispered, as her better nature prevailed over every other feeling, and, +starting eagerly forward, she ran after the old man, who, surprised at her +evident haste, waited a little anxiously for her to speak. It was rather +difficult to do so with Maddy’s inquiring eyes upon her, but Agnes +managed at last to say: “Does that crazy man like flowers—the one +who prays for the madam?” “Yes, he used to years ago,” +grandpa replied; and, bending down, Agnes began to pick and arrange into a most +tasteful bouquet the blossoms and buds of May, growing so profusely within the +borders. +</p> + +<p> +“Take them to him, will you?” and her hand shook as she passed to +Grandpa Markham the gift which would thrill poor crazy Joseph with a strange +delight, making him hold converse a while with the unseen presence which he +called “she,” and then whisper blessings on the madam’s head. +Three days after this, a party of four left Aikenside, which presented a most +forlorn and cheerless appearance to the passers-by, who were glad almost as the +servants when, at the expiration of a week, Guy came back and took up his olden +life of solitude and loneliness, with nothing in particular to interest him, +except his books the letters he wrote to Lucy; unless, indeed, it were those he +was going to write to Maddy, who, with Jessie, had promised to become his +correspondents. Nothing but these and the picture—the doctor’s +picture—the one designed expressly for him, and which troubled him +greatly. Believing that he had fully intended it for the doctor, Guy felt as if +it were, in a measure, stolen property, and this made him prize it all the +more. +</p> + +<p> +Now that Maddy was away, Guy missed her terribly, wondering how he had ever +lived without her, and sometimes working himself into a violent passion against +the meddlesome neighbors who would not let her remain with him in peace, and +who, now that she was gone, did not stop their talking one whit. Of this last, +however, he was ignorant, as there was no one to tell him how people marveled +more than ever, feeling confident now that he was educating his own wife, and +making sundry hateful remarks as to what he intended doing with her relations. +Guy only knew that he was very lonely, that Lucy’s letters seemed +insipid, that even the doctor failed to interest him, as of old, and that his +greatest comfort was in looking at the bright young face which seemed to smile +so trustfully upon him from the tiny casing, just as Maddy had smiled upon him +when, in Madam ——’s parlor, he bade her good-by. The doctor +could not have that picture, he finally decided. Hal ought to be satisfied with +getting Maddy, as of course he would, for wasn’t he educating her for +that very purpose? Certainly he was, and, as a kind of atonement for what he +deemed treachery to his friend, he talked with him often of her, always taking +it for granted that when she was old enough, the doctor would woo and win the +little girl who had come to him in his capacity of inspector, as candidate +number one. +</p> + +<p> +At first, the doctor suspected him of acting a part in order to cover up some +design of his own with regard to Maddy, and affected an indifference he did not +feel; but, as time passed on, Guy, who really believed himself sincere, managed +to make the doctor believe so, too. Consequently, the latter abandoned his +suspicions, and gave himself up to blissful dreams of what might possibly be +when Maddy should have become the brilliant woman she was sure one day to be. +Alas! for the doctor’s dreams. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap15"></a>CHAPTER XV.<br/> +THE HOLIDAYS.</h2> + +<p> +The summer vacation had been spent by the Remington’s and Maddy at the +seaside, the latter coming to the cottage for a week before returning to her +school in New York, and as the doctor was then absent from home, she did not +meet him at all. Consequently he had not seen her since she left Aikenside for +New York. But she was at home now for the Christmas holidays—was down at +the cottage, too; and unusually nervous for him, the doctor stood before the +little square glass in his back office, trying to make himself look as well as +possible, for he was going that very afternoon to call upon Miss Clyde. He was +glad she was not at Aikenside; he would rather meet her where Guy was not, and +he hoped he might be fortunate enough to find her alone. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor was seriously in love. He acknowledged that now to himself, +confessing, too, that with his love was mingled a spice of jealousy, lest Guy +Remington should be expending more thought on Maddy Clyde than was consistent +with the promised husband of Lucy Atherstone. He wished so much to talk with +Guy about her, and yet he dreaded it; for if the talk should confirm his +suspicious there would be no hope for him. No girl in her right mind would +prefer him to Guy Remington, and with a little sigh the doctor was turning away +from the glass, when, as if to verify a familiar proverb, Guy himself drove up +in a most dashing equipage, the silver-tipped harness of his high-mettled steed +flashing in the wintry sunlight, and the bright-hued lining of his fanciful +robes presenting a very gay appearance. +</p> + +<p> +Guy was in the best of spirits. For an entire half day he had tried to devise +some means to getting Maddy up to Aikenside. It was quite too bad for her to +spend the whole vacation at the cottage, as she seemed likely to do. He knew +she was lonely there; that the bare floor and low, dark walls affected her +unpleasantly. He had seen that in her face when he bade her good-by, for he had +carried her down to the cottage himself, and now he was going after her. There +was to be a party at Aikenside; the very first since Guy was its master. The +neighbors had said he was too proud to invite them, but they should say so no +more. The house was to be thrown open in honor of Guy’s twenty-sixth +birthday, and all who were at all desirable as guests were to be bidden to the +festival. First on the list was the doctor, who, remembering how averse Guy was +to large parties, wondered at the proceedings. But Guy was all engaged in the +matter, and after telling who were to be invited, added rather indifferently: +“I’m going now down to Honedale after Maddy. It’s better for +her to be with us a day or two beforehand. You’ve seen her, of +course.” +</p> + +<p> +No, the doctor had not; he was just going there, he said, in a tone so full of +sad disappointment, that Guy detected it at once, and asked if anything was the +matter. +</p> + +<p> +“Guy,” the doctor continued, sitting down by his friend, “I +remember once your making me your confidant about Lucy. You remember it, +too?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, why? well?” Guy replied, beginning to feel strangely +uncomfortable as he half divined what was coming next. +</p> + +<p> +Latterly Guy had stopped telling the doctor that he was educating Maddy for +him. Indeed, he did not talk of her at all, and the doctor might have fancied +her out of his mind but for the frequent visits to New York, which Guy found it +absolutely necessary to make. Guy did not himself understand the state of his +own feelings with regard to Maddy, but if compelled to explain them they would +have been something as follows: He fully expected to marry Lucy Atherstone; the +possibility that he should not had never occurred to him, but that was no +reason why Maddy Clyde need be married for these many years. She was very young +yet; there was time enough for her to think of marrying when she was +twenty-five, and in the meanwhile it would be splendid to have her at Aikenside +as Lucy’s and his friend. Nothing could be nicer, and Guy did not care to +have this little arrangement spoiled. But that the doctor had an idea of +spoiling it, he had not a doubt, particularly after the doctor’s next +remark. +</p> + +<p> +“I have not seen Maddy since last spring, you know. Is she very much +improved?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, very much. There is no more stylish-looking girl to be seen on +Broadway than Maddy Clyde,” and Guy shook down his pantaloons a little +awkwardly. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, is she as handsome as she used to be, and as childish in her +manner?” the doctor asked; and Guy replied: +</p> + +<p> +“I took her to the opera once, last month, and the many admiring glances +cast at our box proved pretty positively that Maddy’s beauty was not of +the ordinary kind.” +</p> + +<p> +“The opera!” the doctor exclaimed; “Maddy Clyde at the opera! +What would her grandfather say? He is very puritanical, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I know; and so is Maddy, too. She wrote and obtained his consent +before she’d go with me. He won’t let her go to a theatre +anyhow.” +</p> + +<p> +Here an interval of silence ensued, and then the doctor began again, +</p> + +<p> +“Guy, you told me once you were educating Maddy Clyde for me, and I tried +then to make you think I didn’t care; but I did, oh, so much. Guy, laugh +at me, if you please. I cannot blame you if you do; but the fact is, I believe +I’ve loved Maddy Clyde ever since that time she was so sick. At all +events, I love her now, and I was going down there this very afternoon to tell +her so. She’s old enough. She was sixteen last October, +the—the——” +</p> + +<p> +“Tenth day,” Guy responded, thus showing that he, too, was keeping +Maddy’s age, even to a day. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, the tenth day,” resumed the doctor. “There’s +’most eleven years’ difference between us, but if she feels at all +as I do, she will not care, Guy;” and the doctor began to talk earnestly: +“I’ll be candid with you, and say that you have sometimes made my +heart ache a little.” +</p> + +<p> +“Me!” and Guy’s face was crimson, while the doctor continued: +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, and I beg your pardon for it; but let me ask you one question, and +upon its answer will depend my future course with regard to Maddy: You are true +to Lucy?” +</p> + +<p> +Guy felt the blood trickling at the roots of his hair, but he answered +truthfully as he believed: +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, true as steel;” while the generous thought came over him that +he would further the doctor’s plans all he possibly could. +</p> + +<p> +“Then I am satisfied,” the doctor rejoined; “and as you have +rather assumed the position of her guardian or brother, I ask your permission +to offer her the love which whether she accepts it or not, is hers.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy had never felt a sharper pang than that which now thrilled through every +nerve, but he would not prove false to the friend confiding in him, and he +answered calmly: +</p> + +<p> +“You have my consent; but, Doc, better put it off till you see her at +Aikenside. There’s no chance at the cottage, with those three old people. +I wonder she don’t go wild. I’m sure I should.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy was growing rather savage about something, but the doctor did not mind; and +grasping his arm as he arose, he said: +</p> + +<p> +“And you’ll manage it for me, Guy? You know how. I don’t. +You’ll contrive for me to see her alone, and maybe say a word beforehand +in my favor.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes, I’ll manage it. I’ll fix it right. Don’t +forget, day after to-morrow night. The Cutlers’ will be there, and, by +the way, Marcia has got to be a splendid girl. She fancied you once, you know. +Old Cutler is worth half a million.” And Guy tore himself away from the +doctor, who, now that the ice was broken, would like to have talked of Maddy +forever. +</p> + +<p> +But Guy was not thus inclined, and in a mood not extremely amiable, he threw +himself into his sleigh and went dashing down toward Honedale. For some +unaccountable reason he was not now one bit interested in the party, and, were +it not that a few of the invitations were issued, he would have been tempted to +give it up. Guy did not know what ailed him. He only felt as if somebody had +been meddling with his plans, and had he been in the habit of swearing, he +would probably have sworn; but as he was not, he contented himself with driving +like a second Jehu he reached Honedale, where a pair of soft, brown eyes smiled +up into his face, and a little, fat, warm hand was clasped in his, as Maddy +came even to the gate to meet him. +</p> + +<p> +She was very glad to see him. The cottage with its humble adornings did seem +lonely, almost dreary, after the life and bustle of New York, and Maddy had +cried more than once to think how hard and wicked she must be growing when her +home had ceased to be the dear old home she once loved so well. She had been +there five days now, and notwithstanding the efforts of her grandparents to +entertain her, each day had seemed a week in its duration. Neither the doctor +nor Guy had been near her, and capricious little Maddy had made herself believe +that the former was sadly remiss in his duty, inasmuch as he had not seen her +for so long. He had been in the habit of calling every week, her grandmother +said, and this did not tend to increase her amiability. Why didn’t he +come now when he knew she was at home? Didn’t he want to see her? Well, +she could be indifferent, too, and when they did meet, she’d show how +little she cared! +</p> + +<p> +Maddy was getting to be a woman with womanly freaks, as the reader will readily +see. At Guy she was not particularly piqued. She did not take his attentions, +as a matter of course; still she thought more of him, if possible, than of the +doctor, during those five days, saying to herself each morning: +“He’ll surely come to-day,” and to herself each night: +“He will be here to-morrow.” She had something to show him at +last—a letter from Lucy Atherstone, who had gradually come to be her +regular correspondent, and whom Maddy had learned to love with all the +intensity of her girlhood. To her ardent imagination Lucy Atherstone was but a +little lower than the angels, and the pure, sweet thoughts contained in every +letter were doing almost as much toward molding her character as Grandpa +Markham’s prayers and constant teachings. Maddy did not know it, but it +was these letters from Lucy which kept her from loving Guy Remington. She could +not for a moment associate him with herself when she so constantly thought of +him as the husband of another, and that other Lucy Atherstone. Not for worlds +would Maddy have wronged the gentle creature who wrote to her so confidingly of +Guy, envying her in that she could so often see his face and hear his voice, +while his betrothed was separated from him by many thousand miles. Little by +little it had come out that Lucy’s mother was averse to the match, that +she had in her mind the case of an English lord, who would make her daughter +“My Lady;” and this was the secret of her deferring so long her +daughter’s marriage. In her last letter to Maddy, however, Lucy had +written with more than her usual spirit that she would come in possession of +her property on her twenty-fifth birthday. She should then feel at liberty to +act for herself, and she launched out into joyful anticipations of the time +when she should come to Aikenside and meet her dear Maddy Clyde. Feeling that +Guy, if he did not already know it, would be glad to hear it, Maddy had all the +morning been wishing he would come; and when she saw him at the gate she ran +out to meet him, her eyes and face sparkling with eager joy as she suffered him +to retain her hand while she said: “I am so glad to see you, Mr. +Remington. I almost thought you had forgotten me at Aikenside, Jessie and +all.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy began to exclaim against any one’s forgetting her, and also to +express his pleasure at finding her so glad to see him, when Maddy interrupted +him with, “Oh, it’s not that; I’ve something to show +you—something which will make you very happy. I had a letter from Lucy +last night. When she is twenty-five she will be her own mistress, you know, and +she means to be married in spite of her mother—she says—let me +see—” and drawing from her bosom Lucy’s letter, Maddy read, +“‘I do not intend to fail in filial obedience, but I have tired +dear Guy’s patience long enough, and as soon as I can I shall marry +him.’ Isn’t it nice?” and returning the letter to its hiding +place, Maddy scooped up in her hand and ate a quantity of the snow beside the +path. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, it was very nice,” Guy admitted, but there was a shadow on +his brow as he followed Maddy into the cottage, where the lunatic, who had been +watching them from the window, shook his head doubtfully and said, “Too +young, too young for you, young man. You can’t have our Sunshine if you +want her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hush, Uncle Joseph,” Maddy whispered, softly, taking his arm and +laying it around her neck. “Mr. Remington don’t want me. He is +engaged to a beautiful English girl across the sea.” +</p> + +<p> +Low as Maddy’s words were, Guy heard them, as well as the crazy +man’s reply, “Engagements have been broken.” +</p> + +<p> +That was the first time the possibility had ever entered Guy’s brain that +his engagement might be broken, provided he wished it, which he did not, he +said to himself positively. Lucy loved him, he loved Lucy, and that was enough, +so in a kind of abstracted manner arising from the fact that he was calculating +how long it would be before Lucy was twenty-five, he began to talk with Maddy, +asking how she had spent her time, and so forth. This reminded Maddy of the +doctor, who, she said, had not been to see her at all. +</p> + +<p> +“He was coming this morning,” Guy rejoined, “but I persuaded +him to defer his call until you were at Aikenside. I have come to take you back +with me, as we are to have a party day after to-morrow evening, and I wish you +to be present.” +</p> + +<p> +A party, a big party, such as Maddy had never in her life attended! How her +eyes sparkled from mere anticipation as she looked appealingly to her +grandfather, who, though classing parties with the pomps and vanities from +which he would shield his child, still remembered that he once was young, that +fifty years ago he, too, like Maddy, wanted “to see the folly of +it,” and not take the mere word of older people that in every festive +scene there was a pitfall, strewn over so thickly with roses that it was +ofttimes hard to tell just where its boundary line commenced. Besides that, +grandpa had faith in Guy, and so his consent was granted, and Maddy was soon on +her way to Aikenside, which presented a gayer, busier appearance than she had +ever known before. Jessie was wild with delight, dragging forth at once the +pink dress which she was to wear, and whispering to Maddy that Guy had bought a +dark blue silk for her, and that Sarah Jones was at that moment fashioning it +after a dress left there by Maddy the previous summer. +</p> + +<p> +“Mother said plain white muslin was more appropriate for a young girl, +but Brother Guy said no; fee blue would be useful after the party; it was what +you needed, and so he bought it and paid a dollar and three-quarters a yard, +but it’s a secret until you are called to try it on. Isn’t Guy +splendid?” +</p> + +<p> +He was indeed splendid, Maddy thought, wondering why he was so kind to her, and +if it would be so when Lucy came. The dress fitted admirably, only Maddy +thought grandpa would say it was too low in the neck, but Sarah overruled her +objections, assisted by Guy, who, when the dress was completed and tried on for +the last time, was called in by Jessie to see if “Maddy’s neck +didn’t look just like cheese curd,” and if “she +shouldn’t have a piece sewed on as she suggested.” The neck was +<i>au fait</i>, Guy said, laughing as Maddy for blushing so, and saying when he +saw how really distressed she seemed that he would provide her with something +to relieve the bareness of which she complained. “Oh, I know, I saw, I +peeked in the box,” Jessie began, but Guy put his hand over the little +tattler’s mouth, bidding her keep the result of her peeking to herself. +</p> + +<p> +And for once Jessie succeeded in doing so, although she several times set Maddy +to guessing what it was Guy had for her in a box! As the size of the box was +not mentioned, Maddy had fully made up her mind to a shawl or scarf, and was +proportionately disappointed when, as she was dressing for the party, there was +sent up to her room a small round box, scarcely large enough to hold an apple, +much less a small scarf. The present proved to be a pair of plain but heavy +bracelets, and a most exquisitely wrought chain of gold, to which was appended +a beautiful pearl cross, the whole accompanied with the words, “From +Guy.” Jessie was in ecstasies again. Clasping the ornaments on +Maddy’s neck and arms, she danced around her, declaring there never was +anything more beautiful, or anybody as pretty as Maddy was in her rich party +dress. Maddy was fond of jewelry—as what young girl is not?—and +felt a flush of gratified pride, or vanity, or satisfaction, whichever one +chooses to call it, as she glanced at herself in the mirror and remembered the +time when, riding with the doctor, she had met Mrs. Agnes, with golden +bracelets flashing on her arms, and wished she might one day wear something +like them. The day had come sooner than she then anticipated, but Maddy was not +as happy in possession of the coveted ornaments as she had thought she should +be. Somehow, it seemed to her that Guy ought not to have given them to her, +that it was improper for her to keep them, and that both Mrs. Noah and Agnes +thought so, too. She wished she knew exactly what was right, and then, +remembering that Guy had said the doctor was expected early, she decided to ask +his opinion on the subject and abide by it. +</p> + +<p> +At first Agnes had cared but little about the party, affecting to despise the +people in their immediate neighborhood; but when Guy gave her permission to +invite from the adjoining towns, and even from Worcester if she liked, her +spirits arose; and when her toilet was completed, she shone resplendent in lace +and diamonds and curls, managing to retain through all a certain simplicity of +dress appropriate to the hostess. But beautiful as Agnes was, she felt in her +jealous heart that there was about Maddy Clyde an attraction she did not +possess. Guy saw it, too, and while complimenting his pretty mother-in-law, +kept his eyes fixed admiringly on Maddy, who started him into certain +unpleasant remembrances by asking if the doctor had come yet. +</p> + +<p> +“No—yes—there he was now,” and Guy looked into the +hall, where the doctor’s voice was heard inquiring for him. +</p> + +<p> +“I want to see him a minute, alone, please. There’s something I +want to ask him.” And, unmindful of Agnes’ darkening frown, or +Guy’s look of wonder, Maddy darted from the room, and ran hastily down +the hall to where the doctor stood, waiting for Guy, not for her. +</p> + +<p> +He had not expected to meet her thus, or to see her thus, and the sight of her, +grown so tall, so womanly, so stylish and so beautiful, almost took his breath +away. And yet, as he stood with her soft hand in his, and surveyed her from +head to foot, he felt that he would rather have had her as she was when a +dainty frill shaded her pale, wasted face, when the snowy ruffle was fastened +high about her throat, and the cotton bands were buttoned about her wrists, +where gold ones now were shining. The doctor had never forgotten Maddy as she +was then, the very embodiment, he thought, of helpless purity. The little sick +girl, so dear to him then, was growing away from him now; and these adornings, +which marked the budding woman, seemed to remove her from him and place her +nearer to Guy, whose bride should wear silk and jewels, just as Maddy did. +</p> + +<p> +She was very glad to see him, she said, asking in the same breath why he had +not been to the cottage, if she had not grown tall, and if he thought her one +bit improved with living in a city? +</p> + +<p> +“One question at a time, if you please,” he said, drawing her a +little more into the shadow of the door where they would be less observed by +any one passing through. +</p> + +<p> +Maddy did not wait for him to answer, so eager was she to unburden her mind and +know if she ought to keep the costly presents, at which she knew he was +looking. +</p> + +<p> +“If he remembers his unpaid bill, he must consider me mighty mean,” +she thought: and then, with her usual frankness, she told him of the perplexity +and asked his opinion. +</p> + +<p> +“It would displease Mr. Guy very much if I were to give them back,” +she said: “but it hardly is right for me to accept them, is it?” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor did not say she ought not to wear the ornaments, though he longed to +tear them from her arms and neck and throw them anywhere, he cared not where, +so they freed her wholly from Guy. +</p> + +<p> +They were very becoming, he said. She would not look as well without them; so +she had better wear them to-night, and to-morrow, if she would grant him an +interview, he would talk with her further. +</p> + +<p> +Dissembling doctor! He said all this to gain the desired interview with Maddy, +the interview for which Guy was to prepare her. That he had not done so he felt +assured, but he could not be angry with him, as he came smilingly toward them, +asking if they had talked privacy long enough, and glancing rather curiously at +Maddy’s face. There was nothing in its expression to disturb him, and, +offering her his arm, he led her back to the drawing-rooms where Agnes was +smoothing down the folds of her dress, preparatory to receiving the guests just +descending the stairs. It was a brilliant scene which Aikenside presented that +night, and amid it all Agnes bore herself like a queen, while Jessie, with her +sunny face and golden hair, came in for a full share of attention. But amid the +gay throng there was none so fair or so beautiful as Maddy, who deported +herself with as much ease and grace as if she had all her life long been +accustomed to just such occasions as this. At a distance the doctor watched +her, telling several who she was, and once resenting by both look and manner a +remark made by Maria Cutler to the effect that she was nobody but Mrs. +Remington’s governess, a poor girl whom Guy had taken a fancy to educate +out of charity. +</p> + +<p> +“He seems very fond of his charity pupil, upon my word. He scarcely +leaves her neighborhood at all,” whispered old Mrs. Cutler, the mother of +Maria, who, Guy said, once fancied Dr. Holbrook, and who had no particular +objections to fancying him now, provided it could be reciprocal. +</p> + +<p> +But the doctor was only intent on Maddy, knowing always just where she was +standing, just who was talking to her; and just how far from her Guy was. He +knew, too, when the latter was urging her to sing; and, managing to get nearer, +heard her object that no one cared to hear her. +</p> + +<p> +“But I do; I wish it,” Guy replied in that tone which people +generally obeyed; and casting a half-frightened look at the sea of faces around +her, Maddy suffered him to lead her to the piano, sitting quite still while he +found what he wished her to play. +</p> + +<p> +It was his favorite song, and one which brought out Maddy’s voice in its +various modulations. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, please, Mr. Remington, anything but a song. I cannot sing,” +Maddy whispered pleadingly; but Guy answered resolutely, “You can.” +</p> + +<p> +There was no appeal after this, but a resigned, obedient look, which made the +doctor gnash his teeth as he leaned upon the instrument. What right had Guy to +command Maddy Clyde, and why should she obey? and yet, as the doctor glanced at +Guy, he felt that were he in Maddy’s place, he should do the same. +</p> + +<p> +“No girl can resist Guy Remington,” he thought. “I’m +glad there’s a Lucy Atherstone over the sea.” And with a smile of +encouragement for Maddy, who was pale with nervous timidity, he listened while +her sweet, birdlike voice trembled for a moment with fear; and then, gaining +from its own sound, filled the room with melody, and made those who had +wandered off to other parts of the building hasten back to see who was singing. +</p> + +<p> +Maria Cutler had presided at the piano earlier in the evening, as had one or +two other young ladies, but to none of these had Guy paid half the attention he +did to Maddy, staying constantly by her, holding her fan, turning the leaves of +music, and dictating what she should play. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s devotion,” tittered a miss in long ringlets; +“but she really does play well,” and she appealed to Maria Cutler, +who answered, “Yes, she keeps good time, and I should think might play +for a dance. I mean to ask her,” and going up to Guy she said, “I +wish to speak to—to—well, Jessie’s governess. Introduce me, +please.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy waited till Maddy was through, and then gave the desired introduction. In a +tone not wholly free from superciliousness, Miss Cutler said: +</p> + +<p> +“Can you play a waltz or polka, Miss Clyde? We are aching to exercise our +feet.” +</p> + +<p> +Maddy bowed and struck into a spirited waltz, which set many of the people +present to whirling in circles, and produced the result which Maria so much +desired, viz: it drove Guy away from the piano, for he could not mistake her +evident wish to have him as a partner, and with his arm around her waist he was +soon moving rapidly from that part of the room, leaving only the doctor to +watch Maddy’s fingers as they flew over the keys. Maddy never thought of +being tired. She enjoyed the excitement, and was glad she could do something +toward entertaining Guy’s guests. But Guy did not forget her for an +instant. Through all the mazes of the giddy dance, he had her before his eye, +seeing not the clouds of lace and muslin encircled by his arm, but the little +figure in blue sitting so patiently at the piano until he knew she must be +tired, and determined to release her. As it chanced, Maria was again his +partner, and drawing her nearer to Maddy, he said, “Your fingers ache by +this time, I am sure. It is wrong to trouble you longer. Agnes will take your +place while you try a quadrille with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, thank you,” Maddy answered. “I am not tired in the +least. I had as lief play till morning, provided they are satisfied with my +time and my stock of music holds out.” +</p> + +<p> +“But it is not fair for one to do all the playing; besides, I want you to +dance with me—so consider yourself invited in due form to be my next +partner.” +</p> + +<p> +Maddy’s face crimsoned for an instant, and then in a low voice she said, +“I thank you, but I must decline.” +</p> + +<p> +“Maddy!” Guy exclaimed, in tones more indicative of reproach than +expostulation. +</p> + +<p> +There were tears in Maddy’s eyes, and Maria Cutler, watching her, was +vexed to see how beautiful was the expression of her face as she answered +frankly, “I have never told you that grandpa objected to my taking +dancing lessons when I wrote to him about it. He does not like me to +dance.” +</p> + +<p> +“A saint!” Maria uttered under her breath, smiling contemptuously +as she made a movement to leave the piano, hoping Guy would follow her. +</p> + +<p> +But he did not at once. Standing for a moment irresolute, while he looked +curiously at Maddy, he said at last: +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I interfere with no one’s scruples of that kind, but I +cannot allow you to wear yourself out for our amusement.” +</p> + +<p> +“I like to play—please let me,” was Maddy’s reply; and, +as the set upon the floor were waiting for her, she turned to the instrument, +while Guy mechanically offered his arm to Maria, and sauntered toward the green +room. +</p> + +<p> +“What a blue old ignoramus that grandfather must be, to object to +dancing, don’t you think so?” +</p> + +<p> +Maria laughed a little spitefully, secretly glad that Maddy had refused, and +secretly angry at Guy for seeming to care so much. +</p> + +<p> +“Say,” she continued, as Guy did not answer her, “don’t +you think it a sign that something is lacking in brains or education, when a +person sets up that dancing is wicked?” +</p> + +<p> +Guy would have taken Maddy’s side then, whatever he might have thought, +and he replied: +</p> + +<p> +“No lack of brains, certainly; though education and circumstances have +much to do with one’s views upon that subject. For my part, I like to see +people consistent. Now, that old ignoramus, as you call him, lays great stress +on pomp and vanities, and when I asked him once what he meant by them, he +mentioned dancing in particular as one of the things which you, church people, +promise to renounce;” and Guy bowed toward Maria, who, knowing that she +was one of the church people referred to, winced perceptibly. +</p> + +<p> +“But this girl—this Maddy. There’s no reason why she should +decline,” she said; and Guy replied: “Respect for her grandfather, +in her case, seems to be stronger than respect for a higher power in some other +cases.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s just as wicked to play for dancing as ’tis to +dance,” Maria remarked impatiently, while Guy rejoined: +</p> + +<p> +“That is very possible; but I presume Maddy has never seen it in that +light, which makes a difference;” and the two retraced their steps to the +rooms where the gay revelers were still tripping to Maddy’s stirring +music. +</p> + +<p> +After several ineffectual efforts Agnes had succeeded in enticing the doctor +away from the piano, and thus there was no one near to see how at last the +bright color began to fade from her cheeks as the notes before her ran +together, and the keys assumed the form of one huge key which Maddy could not +manage. There was a blur before her eyes, a buzzing in her ears, and just as +the dancers were entering heart and soul into the merits of a popular polka, +there was a sudden pause in the music, a crash among the keys, and a faint cry, +which to those nearest to her sounded very much like “Mr. Guy,” as +Maddy fell forward with her face upon the piano. It was hard telling which +carried her from the room, the doctor or Guy, or which face of the three was +the whitest. Guy’s was the most frightened, for the doctor knew she had +only fainted, while Guy, struck with the marble rigidity of the face so +recently flushed with excitement, said at first, “She’s +dead,” while over him there flashed a feeling that life with Maddy dead +would be desolate indeed. But Maddy was not dead, and Guy, when he went back to +his guests carried the news that she had recovered from her faint, which she +kindly ascribed to the heat of the rooms, instead of fatigue from playing so +long. The doctor was with her and she was doing as well as could be expected, +he said, thinking within himself how he wished they would go home, and +wondering what attraction there was there, now that Maddy’s place was +vacant. Guy was a vastly miserable man by the time the last guest had bidden +him good-night, and he had heard for the hundred-and-fiftieth time what a +delightful evening it had been. Politeness required that he should look to the +very last as pleasant and unconcerned as if upstairs there were no little sick +girl, all alone undoubtedly with Dr. Holbrook, whom he mentally styled a +“lucky dog,” in that he was not obliged to appear again in the +parlors unless he chose. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor knew Maddy did not require his presence after the first half hour, +but he insisted upon her being sent to bed, and then went frequently to her +door until assured by Mrs. Noah that she was sleeping soundly, and would, if +let alone, be well as ever on the morrow, a prediction which proved true, for +when at a late hour next morning the family met at the breakfast table, +Maddy’s was the brightest, freshest face of the whole, not even excepting +Jessie’s. Maddy, too, was delighted with the party, declaring that +nothing but pleasurable excitement and heat had made her faint, and then with +all the interest which young girls usually attach to fainting fits, she asked +how she looked, how she acted, if she didn’t appear very ridiculous, and +how she got out of the room, saying the only thing she remembered after falling +was a sensation as if she were being torn in two. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s it,” cried Jessie, who readily volunteered the +desired information, “Brother Guy was ’way off with Maria Cutler, +and doctor was with mamma, but both ran, oh, so fast, and both tried to take +you up. I think Miss Cutler real hateful, for she said, so meanlike, ‘Do +you see them pull her, as if ’twas of the slightest consequence which +carried her out?’” +</p> + +<p> +“Jessie,” Guy interposed sternly, while the doctor looked +disapprovingly at the little girl, who subsided into silence after saying, in +an undertone, “I do think she’s hateful, and that isn’t all +she said either about Maddy.” +</p> + +<p> +It was rather uncomfortable at the table after that, and rather quiet, too, as +Maddy did not care to ask anything more concerning her faint, while the others +were not disposed to talk. +</p> + +<p> +Breakfast over, the two young men repaired to the library, where Guy indulged +in his cigar, while the doctor fidgeted for a time, and then broke out +abruptly: +</p> + +<p> +“I say, Guy, have you said anything to her about—well, about me, +you know?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, no, I’ve hardly had a chance; and then, again, I concluded it +better for each one to speak for himself;” and carelessly knocking the +ashes from his half-smoked cigar, Guy leaned back in his chair, with his eyes, +and, to all appearance, thoughts, wholly intent upon the curls of smoke rising +above his head. +</p> + +<p> +“Guy, if you were not engaged, I should be tempted to think you wanted +Maddy Clyde yourself,” the doctor suddenly exclaimed, confronting Guy, +who, still watching the rings of smoke, answered with the most provoking +coolness, “You should?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I should; and I am not certain but you do as it is, Guy,” and +the doctor grew very earnest in his manner, “if you do care for Maddy +Clyde, and she for you, pray tell me so before I make a fool of myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Doctor,” returned Guy, throwing the remains of his cigar into the +grate and folding his hands on his head, “you desire that I be frank, and +I will. I like Maddy Clyde very much—more indeed than any girl I ever +met—except Lucy. Had I never seen her—Lucy, I mean—I cannot +tell how I should feel toward Maddy. The chances are, however, that much as I +admire her, I should not make her my wife, even if she were willing. But I have +seen Lucy. I am engaged to be married. I shall keep that engagement, and if you +have feared me at all as a rival, you may fear me no longer. I do not stand +between you and Maddy Clyde.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy believed that he was saying the truth, notwithstanding that his heart beat +faster than its wont and his voice was a little thick. It was doubtful whether +he would marry Maddy Clyde, if he could. By nature and education he was very +proud, and the inmates of the red cottage would have been an obstacle to be +surmounted by his pride. He knew they were good, far, far better than himself; +but, from his earliest remembrance, he had been taught that blood and family +and position were all-important; that by virtue of them Remington was a name of +which to be proud; that his father’s foolish marriage with a pretty +governess was the first misalliance ever known in the family, and that he was +not likely to follow that example was a point fully established in his own +mind. He might admire Maddy very much, and, perhaps, build castles of what +might possibly have been, had she been in his sphere of life; but, should he +verily think of making her his wife, the olden pride would certainly come up a +barrier between them. Guy could not explain all this to the doctor, who would +have been tempted to knock him down, if he had; but he succeeded in quieting +his fears, and even suggested bringing Maddy in there, if the doctor wished to +know his fate that morning. +</p> + +<p> +“I hear her now—I’ll call her,” he said; and, opening +the door, he spoke to Maddy, just passing through the hall. “Dr. Holbrook +wishes to see you,” he said, as Maddy came up to him; and, holding the +door for her to enter, he saw her take the seat he had just vacated. Then, +closing it upon them, he walked away, thinking that last night’s party, +or something, had produced a bad effect on him, making him blue and wretched, +just as he should suppose a criminal would feel when about to be executed. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap16"></a>CHAPTER XVI.<br/> +THE DOCTOR AND MADDY.</h2> + +<p> +Now that they were alone, the doctor’s courage forsook him, and he could +only stammer out some commonplace remarks about the party, asking how Maddy Lad +enjoyed it, and if she was sure she had entirely recovered from the effects of +her fainting fit. He was not getting on at all, and it was impossible for him +to say anything as he had meant to say it. Why couldn’t she help him, +instead of looking so unsuspiciously at him with those large, bright eyes? +Didn’t she know how dear she was to him? He should think she might. She +might have divined it ere this; and if so, why didn’t she blush, or +something? +</p> + +<p> +At last she came to his aid by saying, “You promised to tell me about the +bracelets and necklace, whether I ought to keep them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, oh yes, he believed he did.” And getting up from his chair, +the doctor began to walk the floor, the better to hide his confusion. +“Yes, the bracelets. You looked very pretty in them, Maddy, very; but you +are always pretty—ahem—yes. If you were engaged to Guy, I should +say it was proper; but if not, why, I don’t know; the fact is, Maddy, I +am not quite certain what I am saying, so you must excuse me. I almost hated +you that day you sent the note, telling me you were coming to be examined; but +I had not seen you then. I did not know how, after a while—a very little +while—I should in all probability—well, I did; I changed my mind, +and I—I guess you have not the slightest idea what I mean.” And +stopping suddenly, he confronted the astonished Maddy, who replied: +</p> + +<p> +“Not the slightest, unless you are going crazy.” +</p> + +<p> +She could in no other way account for his strange conduct, and she sat staring +at him while he continued: “I told you once that when I wanted my bill +I’d let you know. I’d ask for pay. I want it now. I present my +bill.” +</p> + +<p> +With a scared, miserable feeling, Maddy listened to him, wondering where she +should get the money, if it were possible for her grandfather to raise it, and +how much her entire wardrobe would bring, suppose she should sell it! The bill +had not troubled her latterly, for she had fallen into a way of believing that +the doctor would wait until she was graduated and could earn it by teaching. +Nothing could be more inopportune than for him to present it now; and with a +half-stifled sob she began to speak, but he stopped her by a gesture, and +sitting down beside her, said, in a voice more natural than the one with which +he had at first addressed her: +</p> + +<p> +“Maddy, I know you have no money. It is not that I want, Maddy; I +want—I want—you.” +</p> + +<p> +He bent down over her now, for her face was hidden in her hands, all sense of +sight shut out, all sense of hearing, too, save the words he was pouring into +her ear—words which burned their way into her heart, making It throb for +a single moment with gratified pride, and then growing heavy as lead as she +knew how impossible it was for her to pay the debt in the way which he desired. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t, doctor; oh, I can’t!” she sobbed. “I +never dreamed of this; never supposed you could want me for your wife. +I’m only a little girl—only sixteen last October—but +I’m so sorry for you, who have been so kind. If I only could love you as +you deserve! I do love you, too; but not the way you mean. I cannot be Maddy +Holbrook; no; doctor, I cannot.” +</p> + +<p> +She was sobbing piteously, and in his concern for her the doctor forgot +somewhat the stunning blow he had received. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t, Maddy darling!” he said, drawing her trembling form +closely to him, “Don’t be so distressed. I did not much think +you’d tell me yes, and I was a fool to ask you. I am too old; but, Maddy, +Guy is as old as I am.” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor did not know why he said this, unless in the first keenness of his +disappointment there was a satisfaction in telling her that the objection to +his age would apply also to Guy. But it did not affect Maddy one whit, or give +her the slightest inkling of his meaning. He saw it did not, and the pain was +less to bear. Still, he would know certainly if he had a rival, and so he said +to her: +</p> + +<p> +“Do you love some one else, Maddy? Is another preferred before me, and is +that the reason why you cannot love me?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” Maddy answered, through her tears. “There is no one +else. Whom should I love, unless it were you? I know nobody but Guy.” +</p> + +<p> +That name touched a sore, aching chord in the doctor’s heart, but he gave +no sign of the jealousy which had troubled him, and for a moment there was +silence in the room; then, as the doctor began faintly to realize that Maddy +had refused him, there awoke within him a more intense desire to win her than +he had ever felt before. He would not give her up without another effort, and +laying her unresisting head upon his bosom, he pleaded again for her love, +going over all the past, and telling of the interest awakened when first she +came to him that April afternoon, almost two years ago; then of the little sick +girl who had grown so into the heart never before affected in the least by +womankind, and lastly of the beautiful woman, as he called her, sitting beside +him now in all the freshness of her young womanhood. And Maddy, as she +listened, felt for him a strange kind of pity, a wish to do his bidding if she +only could, and why shouldn’t she? Girls had married those whom they did +not love, and been tolerably happy with them, too. Perhaps she could be so with +the doctor. There was everything about him to respect, and much which she could +love. Should she try? There was a great lump in Maddy’s throat as she +tried to speak, but it cleared away and she said very sadly, but very +earnestly, too: +</p> + +<p> +“Dr. Holbrook, would you like me to say yes with my lips, when all the +time there was something at my heart tugging to answer no?” +</p> + +<p> +This was not at all what Maddy meant to say, but the words were born of her +extreme truthfulness, and the doctor thus learned the nature of the struggle +which he saw plainly was going on. +</p> + +<p> +“No, Maddy, I would not have you say yes unless your heart was in +it,” he answered, while he tried to smile upon the tearful face looking +up so sorrowfully at him. +</p> + +<p> +But the smile was a forlorn one, and there came instead a tear as he thought +how dear was the fair creature who never would be his. Maddy saw the tear, and +as if she were a child wiped it from his cheek; then, in tones which never +faltered, she told him it might be in time she’d learn to love him. She +would try so hard, she’d think of him always as her promised husband, and +by that means should learn at last not to shrink from taking him for such. It +might be ever so long, and perhaps she should be twenty or more, but some time +in the future she should feel differently. Was he satisfied, and would he wait? +</p> + +<p> +Her little hand was resting on his shoulder, but he did not mind its soft +pressure or know that it was there, so strong was the temptation to accept that +half-made promise. But the doctor was too noble, to unselfish to bind Maddy to +himself unless she were wholly willing, and he said to her that if she did not +love him now she probably never would. She could not make a love. She need not +try, as it would only result in her own unhappiness. They would be friends just +as they always had been, and none need know of what had passed between them, +none but Guy. “I must tell him” the doctor said, “because he +knows that I was going to ask you.” +</p> + +<p> +Maddy could not explain why it was that she felt glad the doctor would tell +Guy. She did not analyze any of her feelings, or stop to ask why she should +care to have Guy Remington know the answer she had given Dr. Holbrook. He was +going to him now, she was sure, for he arose to leave her, saying he might not +see her again before she returned to New York. She did not mention his bill. +That was among the bygones, a thing never again to be talked about, and +offering him her hand, she looked for an instant earnestly into his face, then +without a word, hurried from the room, while the doctor, with a sad, heavy +heart, went in quest of Guy. +</p> + +<p> +“Refused you, did you say?” and Guy’s face certainly looked +brighter than it had before since he left the doctor with Maddy Clyde. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, refused me, as I might have known she would,” was the +doctor’s reply, spoken so naturally that Guy looked up quickly to see if +he really did not care. +</p> + +<p> +But the expression of the face belied the calmness of the voice; and, touched +with genuine pity, Guy asked the cause of the refusal—“preference +for any one else, or what?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, there was no one whom she preferred. She merely did not like me well +enough to be my wife, that was all,” the doctor said, and then he tried +to talk of something else; but it would not do. The wound was yet too fresh and +sore to be covered up, and in spite of himself the bearded chin quivered and +the manly voice shook as he bade good-by to Guy, and then went galloping down +the avenue. +</p> + +<p> +Great was the consternation among the doctor’s patients when it was known +that their pet physician—the one in whose skill they had so much +confidence—was going to Europe, where in Paris he could perfect himself +in his profession. Some cried, and among them Agnes; some said he knew enough +already; some tried to dissuade him from his purpose; some wondered at the +sudden start, while only two knew exactly why he was going—Guy and Maddy; +the former approving his decision and lending his influence to make his tour +abroad as pleasant as possible; and the latter weeping bitterly as she thought +how she had sent him away, and that if aught befell him on the sea or in that +distant land, she would be held amenable. Once there came over her the wild +impulse to bid him stay, to say that she would be his wife; but, ere the rash +act was done, Guy came down to the cottage, and Maddy’s resolution gave +way at once. +</p> + +<p> +It would be difficult to tell the exact nature of Maddy’s liking for Guy +at that time. Had he offered himself to her she would probably have refused him +even more promptly than she did the doctor; for, to all intents and purposes, +he was, in her estimation, the husband of Lucy Atherstone. As such, there was +no harm in making him her paragon of all male excellence; and Guy would have +felt flattered, could he have known how much he was in that young girl’s +thoughts. But now for a few days he had a rival, for Maddy’s thoughts +were all given to the doctor, who came down to see her once before starting for +Europe. She did not cry while he was there, but her voice was strange and +hoarse as she gave him messages for Lucy Atherstone; and all that day her face +was white and sad, as are the faces of those who come back from burying their +dead. +</p> + +<p> +Only once after the party did she go up to Aikenside, and then, summoning all +her fortitude, she gave back to Guy the bracelets and the necklace, telling him +she ought not to wear them; that ornaments as rich as these were not for her; +that her grandmother did not wish her to keep them, and he must take them back. +Guy saw she was in earnest, and much against his will he received again the +ornaments he had been so happy in purchasing. +</p> + +<p> +“They would do for Jessie when she was older,” Maddy said; but Guy +thought it very doubtful whether Jessie would ever have them. They were +something he had bought for Maddy, something she had worn, and as such they +were too sacred to be given to another. So he laid them away beside the picture +guarded so carefully from every one. +</p> + +<p> +Two weeks afterward Aikenside presented again a desolate, shut-up appearance, +for Agnes, Maddy and Jessie had returned to New York; Agnes to continue the +siege which, in despair of winning the doctor, she had commenced against a rich +old bachelor, who had a house on Madison Square; and Maddy to her books, which +ere long obliterated, in a measure, the bitter memory of all that had +transpired during her winter vacation. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap17"></a>CHAPTER XVII.<br/> +WOMANHOOD.</h2> + +<p> +Two years pass quickly, particularly at school, and to Maddy Clyde, talking +with her companions of the coming holidays, it seemed hardly possible that two +whole years were gone since the eventful vacation when Dr. Holbrook had so +startled her by offering her his hand. He was in Europe still, and another name +than his was on the little office in Mrs. Conner’s yard. To Maddy he now +wrote frequently; friendly, familiar letters, such as a brother might write, +never referring to the past, but telling her whatever he thought would interest +and please her. Occasionally at first, and more frequently afterward, he spoke +of Margaret Atherstone, Lucy’s younger sister, a brilliant, beautiful +girl who reminded him, he said, of Maddy, only she was saucier, and more of a +tease; not at all like Lucy, whom he described as something perfectly angelic. +Her twenty-fifth birthday found her on a sickbed, with Dr. Holbrook in +attendance, and this was the reason given why the marriage between herself and +Guy was again deferred. There had been many weeks of pain, succeeded by long, +weary months of languor, and during all this time the doctor had been with her +as the family physician, while Margaret also had been constantly in attendance. +But Lucy was much better now. She could sit up all day, and even walk a little +distance, assisted by the doctor and Margaret, whose name had become to be +almost as familiar to Maddy as was that of Lucy. And Maddy, in thinking of +Margaret, sometimes wondered “if——” but never went any +farther than that. Neither did she ask Guy a word about her, though she knew he +must have seen her. She not say much to him of Lucy, but she wondered why he +did not go for her, and wanted to talk with him about it but he was so changed +that she dared not. He was not sociable, as of old, and Agnes did not hesitate +to call him cross, while Jessie complained that he never walked or played with +her now, but sat all day long in a deep reverie of some kind. +</p> + +<p> +On this account Maddy did not look forward to the coming vacation as joyfully +as she would otherwise have done. Still it was, always pleasant going home, and +she sat talking with her young friends of all they expected to do, when a +servant entered the room and glancing over the group of girls, singled Maddy +out saying, as he placed an unsealed envelope in her hand. “A telegram +for Miss Clyde.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a blur before Maddy’s eyes, so that at first she could not see +clearly, and Jessie, climbing on the bench beside her, read aloud: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“Your grandmother is dying. Come at once. Agnes and Jessie will stay till +next week. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +“G<small>UY</small> R<small>EMINGTON</small>.” +</p> + +<p> +It was impossible to go that afternoon but with the earliest dawn she was up, +and unmindful of the snow falling so rapidly, started on the sad journey home. +It was the first genuine storm of the season, and it seemed resolved on making +amends for past neglect, sweeping in furious gusts against the windows sifting +down in thick masses from the leaden sky, and so impeding the progress of the +train that the chill wintery night had closed gloomily in ere the Sommerville +station was reached, and Maddy, weary and dispirited, stepped out upon the +platform, glancing anxiously around for the usual omnibus, which she had little +hope would be there on such a night. If not, what should she do? This had been +the burden of her thoughts for the last few hours, for she could not expect Guy +to send out his horses in this fearful storm, much less to be there himself. +But Guy was there, and it was his voice which first greeted her as she stood +half blinded by the snow, uncertain what she must do next. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, Mr. Remington, I didn’t expect this. I am so glad, and how +kind it was of you to wait for me!” she exclaimed, her voice expressing +her delight, and amply repaying the young man, who had not been very patient or +happy through the six long hours of waiting he had endured. +</p> + +<p> +But he was both happy and patient now with Maddy’s hand in his, and +pressing it very gently he led her into the ladies’ room; then making her +sit down before the fire he brushed her snowy garments himself, and dashing a +few flakes from her disordered hair, told her what she so eagerly asked to +know. Her grandmother had had a paralytic stroke, and the only word she had +uttered since was “Maddy.” Guy had not been down himself, but had +sent Mrs. Noah as soon as Farmer Green had brought the news. She was there yet, +he said, the storm having prevented her return. +</p> + +<p> +“And grandma?” Maddy gasped, fixing her eyes wistfully upon him. +“You do not think her dead?” +</p> + +<p> +No, Guy did not, and stooping he asked if he should not remove from the dainty +little feet resting on the stove hearth the overshoes, so full of melting snow. +Maddy cared little for her shoes, or herself just then. She hardly knew that +Guy was taking them off, much less that, as he bent beside her, her hand lay +lightly upon his shoulder as she continued her questionings. +</p> + +<p> +“She is not dead, you say; but do you think-does any-body think +she’ll die? Your telegram said ‘dying.’” +</p> + +<p> +Maddy was not to be deceived, and thinking it best to be frank with her, Guy +told her that the physician, whom he had taken pains to see on his way to the +depot, had said there was no hope. Old age and an impaired constitution +precluded the possibility of recovery, but he trusted she might live till the +young lady came. +</p> + +<p> +“She must—she will! Oh, grandma, why did I ever leave her?” +and burying her face in her hands. Maddy cried passionately, while the last +three years of her Life passed in rapid review before her mind—years +which she had spent in luxurious ease, leaving her grandmother to toil in the +humble cottage, and die at the last, it might be, without one parting word for +her. +</p> + +<p> +The feeling that perhaps she had been guilty of neglect, was the bitterest of +all, and Maddy wept on, unmindful of Guy’s attempts to soothe and quiet +her. At last, as she heard a clock in the adjoining room strike eight, she +started up exclaiming “I have stayed too long. I must go now. Is there +any conveyance here?” +</p> + +<p> +“But, Maddy,” Guy rejoined, “you cannot go to-night. The +roads between here and Honedale are one unbroken snow bank. It would take hours +to break through; besides you are too tired. You need rest, and must come with +me to Aikenside, where you are expected, for when I found how late the train +would be, I sent back word to have your room and parlors warmed, and a nice hot +supper to be ready for us. You’ll surely go with me, if I think +best.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy’s manner was more like a lover than a friend, but Maddy was in no +state to remark it. She only felt an intense desire to go home, and turning a +deaf ear to all he could urge, replied: “You don’t know how dear +grandma is to me, or you would not ask me to stay. She’s all the mother I +ever knew, and I must go. Think, would you stay if the one you loved best was +dying?” +</p> + +<p> +“But the one I love best is not dying, so I can reason clearly, +Maddy.” +</p> + +<p> +Here Guy checked himself, and listened while Maddy asked again if there was no +conveyance there as usual. +</p> + +<p> +“None but mine,” said Guy, while Maddy continued faintly: +</p> + +<p> +“And you are afraid it will kill your horses?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, it would only fatigue them greatly; it’s for you I fear. +You’ve borne enough to-day.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then, Mr. Remington, oh, please send me. I shall die at Aikenside. John +will drive me, I know. He used to like me. I’ll ask him,” and Maddy +was going in quest of the Aikenside coachman, when Guy held her back, and said: +</p> + +<p> +“John will go if I bid him. But you, Maddy, if I thought it was +safe.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is. Oh, let me go,” and Maddy grasped both his hands +beseechingly. +</p> + +<p> +If there was a man who could resist the eloquent appeal of Maddy’s eyes +at that moment, the man was not Guy Remington, and leaving her alone, he sought +out John, asking if it would be possible to get through to Homedale that night. +</p> + +<p> +John shook his head decidedly, but when Guy explained Maddy’s distress +and anxiety, the negro began to relent, particularly as he saw his young +master, too, was interested. +</p> + +<p> +“It’ll kill them horses,” he said, “but mabby +that’s nothin’ to please the girl.” +</p> + +<p> +“If we only had runners now, instead of wheels, John,” Guy said, +after a moment’s reflection. “Drive back to Aikenside as fast as +possible, and change the carriage for a covered sleigh. Leave the grays at home +and drive a pair of farm horses. They can endure more. Tell Flora to send my +traveling shawl. Miss Clyde may need it, and an extra buffalo, and a bottle of +wine, and my buckskin gloves, and take Tom on with you, and a snow shovel; we +may have to dig.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes, I know,” and tying his muffler about his throat, John +started off through the storm, his mind a confused medley of ideas, the main +points of which were, bottles of wine, snow shovels, and the fact that his +master was either crazy or in love. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile, with the prospect of going home, Maddy had grown quiet, and did not +refuse the temporary supper of buttered toast, muffins, steak and hot coffee, +which Guy ordered from the small hotel just in the rear of the depot. Tired, +nervous, and almost helpless, she allowed Guy himself to prepare her coffee, +taking it from his hand and drinking it at his bidding as obediently as a +child. There was a feeling of delicious rest in being cared for thus, and but +for the dying one at Honedale she would have enjoyed it vastly. As it was, +though, she never for a moment forgot her grandmother. She did forget, in a +measure, her anxiety, and was able to think how kind, how exceedingly kind Guy +was. He was like what he used to be, she thought, only kinder, and thinking it +was because she was in trouble, she accepted all his little attentions +willingly, feeling how pleasant it was to have him there, and thinking once +with a half shudder of the long, cold ride before her, when Guy would no longer +be present, and also of the dreary home where death might possibly be a guest +ere she could reach it. +</p> + +<p> +It was after nine ere John appeared, his crisp wool powdered with snow which +clung to his outer garments, and literally covered his dark, cloth cap. +</p> + +<p> +“’Twas mighty deep,” he said, bowing to Maddy, “and the +wind was getting colder. ’Twas a hard time Miss Clyde would have, and +hadn’t she better wait?” +</p> + +<p> +No, Maddy could not wait, and standing up she suffered Guy to wrap her cloak +about her, and fasten more securely the long, warm scarf she wore around her +neck. +</p> + +<p> +“Drive close to the platform,” he said to John, and the covered +sleigh was soon brought to the point designated. “Now then, Maddy, I +won’t let you run the risk of covering your feet with snow. I shall carry +you myself,” Guy said, and ere Maddy was fully aware of his intentions, +he had her in his arms, and was bearing her to the sleigh. +</p> + +<p> +Very carefully he drew the soft, warm robe about her, shielding her as well as +he could from the cold; then pulling his own fur collar about his ears, he +sprang in beside her, and, closing the door behind him, bade John drive on. +</p> + +<p> +“But, Mr. Remington,” Maddy exclaimed in much surprise, +“surely you are not going too? You must not. It is asking too much. It is +more than I expected. Please don’t go.” “Would you rather I +should not—that is, aside from any inconvenience it may be to +me—would you rather go alone?” Guy asked, and Maddy replied: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no. I was dreading the long ride, but did not dream of your going. +You will shorten it so much.” “Then I shall be paid for +going,” was Guy’s response, as he drew still more closely around +her the fancy buffalo robe. +</p> + +<p> +The roads, though badly drifted in some places, were not as bad as Guy had +feared, and the strong horses kept steadily on; while Maddy, growing more and +more fatigued, at last fell away to sleep, and ceased to answer Guy, For a time +he watched her drooping head, and then carefully drawing it to him, made it +rest upon his shoulder, while he wound his arm around her slight figure, and so +supported her. He knew she was sleeping quietly, by her gentle breathings; and +once or twice he involuntarily passed his hand caressingly over her soft, round +cheek, feeling the blood tingle to his finger tips as he thought of his +position there, with Maddy Clyde sleeping in his arms. What would Lucy say, +could she see him? And the doctor, with his strict ideas of right and wrong, +would he object? Guy did not know, and, with his usual independence, he did not +care. At least, he said to himself he did not care; and so, banishing both the +doctor and Lucy from his mind, he abandoned himself to the happiness of the +moment—a singular land of happiness, inasmuch as it merely consisted in +the fact that Maddy Clyde’s young head was pillowed on his bosom, and +that, by bending down, he could feel her sweet breath on his face. Occasionally +there flitted across Guy’s mind a vague, uneasy consciousness that though +the act was, under the circumstances, well enough, the feelings which prompted +it were not such as either the doctor or Lucy would approve. But they were far +away; they would never know unless he told them, as he probably should, of this +ride on that wintry night; this ride, which seemed to him so short that he +scarcely believed his senses when, without once having been overturned or +called upon to use the shovels so thoughtfully provided, the carriage suddenly +came to a halt, and he knew by the dim light shining through the low window +that the red cottage was reached. +</p> + +<p> +Grandma Markham was dying, but she knew Maddy, and the palsied lips worked +painfully as they attempted to utter the loved name; while her wasted face +lighted up with eager joy as Maddy’s arms were twined about her neck, and +she felt Maddy’s kisses on her cheek and brow. Could she not speak? Would +she never speak again, Maddy asked despairingly, and her grandfather replied: +“Never, most likely. The only thing she’s said since the shock was +to call your name; She’s missed you despatly this winter back, more than +ever before, I think. So have we all, but we would not send for you—Mr. +Guy said you was learning so fast.” “Oh, grandpa, why didn’t +you? I would have come so willingly,” and for an instant Maddy’s +eyes flashed reproachfully upon the recreant Guy, standing aloof from the +little group gathered about the bed, his arms folded together, and a moody look +upon his face. +</p> + +<p> +He was thinking of what had not yet entered Maddy’s mind, thinking of the +future—Maddy’s future, when the aged form upon the bed should be +gone, and the two comparatively helpless men be left alone. +</p> + +<p> +“But it shall not be. The sacrifice is far too great. I can prevent it, +and I will,” he muttered to himself, as he turned to watch the gray dawn +breaking in the east. Guy was a puzzle to himself. He would not admit that +during the past year his liking for Maddy Clyde had grown to be something +stronger than mere friendship, nor yet that his feelings toward Lucy had +undergone a change, prompting him not to go to her when she was sick, and not +to be as sorry as he ought that the marriage was again deferred. Lucy had no +suspicion of the change and her childlike trust in him was the anchor which +held him still true to her in intentions at least, if not in reality. He knew +from her letters how much she had learned to like Maddy Clyde, and so, he +argued, there was no harm in his liking her too. She was a splendid girl, and +it seemed a pity that her lot should have been so humbly cast. This was usually +the drift of his thoughts in connection with her; and now, as he stood there +its that cottage, Maddy’s home, they recurred to him with tenfold +intensity, for well he foresaw that a struggle was before him if he rescued +Maddy as he meant to do from her approaching fate. +</p> + +<p> +No such thoughts, however, intruded themselves on Maddy’s mind. She did +not look away from the present, except it were at the past, in which she feared +she had erred by leaving her grandmother too much alone. But to her passionate +appeals for forgiveness, if she ever had neglected the dying one, there came +back only loving looks and mute caresses, the aged hand smoothing lovingly the +bowed head, or pressing fondly the girlish cheeks where Guy’s hand had +been. With the coming of daylight, however, there was a change; and Maddy, +listening intently, heard what sounded like her name. The tied tongue was +loosed for a little, and in tones scarcely articulate, the disciple who for +long years had served her Heavenly Father faithfully, bore testimony to the +blessed truth that God’s promises to those who love Him are not mere +promises—that He will go with them through the river of death, disarming +the fainting soul of every fear, and making the dying bed the very gate of +heaven. This tribute to the Savior was her first thought, while the second was +a blessing for her darling, a charge to seek the narrow way now in life’s +early morning. Disjointed sentences they were, but Maddy understood them all, +treasuring up every word even to the last, the words the farther apart and most +painfully uttered, +“You—will—care—and—comfort——” +She did not say whom, but Maddy knew whom she meant; and without then realizing +the magnitude of the act, virtually accepted the burden from which Guy was so +anxious to save her. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap18"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.<br/> +THE BURDEN.</h2> + +<p> +Grandma Markham was dead, and the covered sleigh, which late in the afternoon +plowed its way heavily back to Aikenside, carried only Mrs. Noah, who, with her +forehead tied up in knots, sat back among the cushions, thinking not of the +peaceful dead, gone forever to the rest which remains for the people of God, +but of the wayward Guy, who had resisted all her efforts to persuade him to +return with her, instead of staying where he was, not needed, and where his +presence was a restraint to all save one, and that one Maddy, for whose sake he +stayed. +</p> + +<p> +“She’d be vummed,” the indignant old lady said, “if she +would not write to Lucy herself if Guy did not quit such doin’s,” +and thus resolving she kept on her way, while the subject of her wrath was, it +may be, more than half repenting of his decision to stay, inasmuch as he began +to have an unpleasant consciousness of himself being in everybody’s way. +</p> + +<p> +In the first hour of Maddy’s bereavement he had not spoken with her, but +had kept himself aloof from the room where, with her grandfather and Uncle +Joseph, she sat, holding the poor aching head of the latter in her lap and +trying to speak a word of consolation to the old, broken-hearted man, whose +hand was grasped in hers. But Maddy knew he was there. She could hear his voice +each time he spoke to Mrs. Noah, and that made the desolation easier to bear. +She did not look forward to the time when he would be gone; and when at last he +told her he was going, she started quickly, and with a gush of tears, +exclaimed: “No, no! oh, no!” +</p> + +<p> +“Maddy,” Guy whispered, bending over the strange trio, “would +you rather I should stay? Will it be pleasanter for you, if I do?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—I don’t know. I guess it would not be so lonely. Oh, +it’s terrible to have grandmother dead!” was Maddy’s +response; after which Guy would have stayed if a whole regiment of Mrs. +Noah’s had confronted him instead of one. +</p> + +<p> +Maddy wished it; that was reason enough for him; and giving a few directions to +John, he stayed, thereby disconcerting the neighboring women who came in to +perform the last offices for the dead, and who wished the young man from +Aikenside was anywhere but there, watching them in all their movements, as they +vainly fancied he did. But Guy thought only of Maddy, watching her so carefully +that more than one meaning glance was exchanged between the women, who, even +over the inanimate form of the dead, spoke together of what might possibly +occur, wondering what would be the effect on Grandpa Markham and Uncle Joseph. +Who would take care of them? And then, in case Maddy should feel it her duty to +stay there, as they half hoped she would, they fell to pitying the young girl, +who seemed now so wholly unfitted for the burden. +</p> + +<p> +To Maddy there came no definite idea of the future during the two days that +white, rigid form lay in the darkened cottage; but when, at last, the deep +grave made for Grandma Markham was occupied, and the lounge in the little front +room was empty—when the Aikenside carriage, which had been sent down for +the use of the mourners, had been driven away, taking both Guy and Mrs. +Noah—when the neighbors, too, had gone, leaving only herself and the +little hired girl sitting by the evening fire, with the grandfather and the +imbecile Uncle Joseph—then it was that she first began to fed the +pressure of the burden—began to ask herself if she could live thus +always, or at least for many years—as long as either of the two helpless +men were spared. Maddy was young, and the world as she had seen it was very +bright and fair, brighter far than a life of laborious toil, and for a while +the idea that the latter alternative must be accepted made her dizzy and faint. +</p> + +<p> +As if divining her thoughts, poor old grandpa, in his prayers that night, asked +in trembling tones, which showed how much he felt what he was saying, that God +would guide his darling in all she did, and give her wisdom to make the proper +decision; that if it were best she might be happy there with them, but if not, +“Oh, Father, Father!” he sobbed, “help me and Joseph to bear +it.” He could pray no more aloud, and the gray head remained bowed down +upon his chair, while Uncle Joseph, in his peculiar way, took up the theme, +begging like a very child that Maddy might be inclined to stay—that no +young men with curling hair, a diamond cross, and smell of musk, might be +permitted to come near her with enticing looks, but that she might stay as she +was and die an old maid forever! This was the subject of Uncle Joseph’s +prayer, a prayer which set the little hired girl to tittering, and would have +wrung a smile from Maddy herself had she not felt all the strange petition +implied. +</p> + +<p> +With waywardness natural to people in his condition, Uncle Joseph that night +turned to Maddy for the little services his sister had formerly rendered, and +which, since her illness, Grandpa Markham had done, and would willingly do +still. But Joseph refused to let him. Maddy must untie his cravat, unbutton his +vest, and take off his shoes, while, after he was in bed, Maddy must sit by his +side, holding his hand until he fell away to sleep. And Maddy did it +cheerfully, soothing him into quiet, and keeping back her own choking sorrow +for the sake of comforting him. Then, when this task was done she sought her +grandfather, still sitting before the kitchen fire and evidently waiting for +her. The little hired girl had retired, and thus there was no barrier to free +conversation between them. +</p> + +<p> +“Maddy,” the old man said, “come sit close by me, where I can +look into your face, while we talk over what must be done.” +</p> + +<p> +With a half shudder, Maddy drew a stool to her grandfather’s feet, and +resting her head upon his knee, listened while he talked to her of the future; +told her all her grandmother had done; told of his own helplessness; of the +trial it was to care for Uncle Joseph, and then in faltering tones asked who +was going to look after them now. “We can’t live here alone, Maddy. +We can’t. We’re old and weak, and want some one to lean on. Oh, why +didn’t God take us with her, Joseph and me, and that would leave you +free, to go back to the school and the life which I know is pleasanter than to +stay here with us. Oh, Maddy! it comforts me to look at you—to hear your +voice, to know that though I don’t see you every minute, you are +somewhere, and by and by you’ll come in. I shan’t live long, and +maybe Joseph won’t. God’s promise is to them who honor father and +mother. It’ll be hard for you to stay, harder than it was once; but, +Maddy, oh, Maddy! stay with me, stay with me!—stay with your old +grandpa!” +</p> + +<p> +In his earnestness he grasped her arm, as if he thus would hold her, while the +tears rained over his wrinkled face. For a moment Maddy made no response. She +had no intention of leaving him, but the burden was pressing heavily and her +tongue refused to move. Maddy was then a stranger to the religion which was +sustaining her grandfather in his great trouble, but the teachings of her +childhood had not been in vain. She was God’s covenant child. His +protecting presence was over and around her, moving her to the right. New York, +with its gay sights, her school, where in another year she was to graduate, the +trip to the Catskills which Guy had promised Mrs. Agnes, Jessie and herself, +Aikenside with its luxurious ease—all these must be given up, while, +worse than all the rest, Guy, too, must be given up. He would not come there +often; the place was not to his taste, and in time he would cease to care for +her as he cared for her now. “Oh, that would be dreadful!” she +groaned aloud, while here thoughts went backward to that night ride in the +snowstorm, and the numberless attentions he had paid her then. She would never +ride with him again—never; and Maddy moaned bitterly, as she began to +realize for the first time how much she liked Guy Remington, and how the giving +him up and his society was the hardest part of all. But Maddy had a brave young +heart, and at last, winding her arms around her grandfather’s neck, she +whispered: “I will not leave you, grandpa. I’ll stay in +grandmother’s place.” +</p> + +<p> +Surely Heaven would answer the blessings whispered over Maddy by the delighted +old man, and the young girl taking so cheerfully the burden from which many +would have shrunk, should be blessed by God. +</p> + +<p> +With her grandfather’s hand upon her head, Maddy could almost feel that +the blessing was descending; but when, in her own room, the one where she had +lain sick for so many weary weeks, her courage began to give way, and the +burden, magnified tenfold by her nervous weakness, looked heavier than she +could bear. How could she stay there, going through each day with the same +routine of literal drudgery—drudgery which would not end until the two +for whom she made the sacrifice were dead. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, is there no way of escape, no help?” she moaned, as she tossed +from side to side, “Must my life be wasted here. Surely—-” +</p> + +<p> +Maddy did not finish the sentence, for something checked the words of repining, +and she seemed to hear again her grandfather’s voice as it repeated the +promise to those who keep with their whole souls the fifth commandment. +</p> + +<p> +“I will, I will,” she cried, while into her heart there crept an +intense longing for the love of him who alone could make her task a light one. +“If I were good like grandma, I could bear everything,” she +thought, and turning upon her pillow, Maddy prayed an earnest, childlike +prayer, that God would help her do night, that He would take from her the proud +spirit which rebelled against her lot because of its loneliness, that pride and +love of her own ease and advancement in preference to others’ good might +all be subdued; in short that she might be God’s child, walking where He +appointed her to walk without a murmur, and doing cheerfully His will. +</p> + +<p> +Aikenside, and school, and the Catskill Mountains were easier to abandon after +that contrite prayer; but when she thought of Guy, the fiercest, sharpest pang +she had ever felt shot through her heart, making her cry out so quickly that +the little hired girl who shared her bed moved as if about to waken, but Maddy +lay very quiet until all was still again, when turning a second time to God she +tried to pray, tried to give up what to her was the dearest idol, but she could +not say the words, and ere she knew what she was doing she found herself asking +that Guy should not forsake her. “Let him come,” she sobbed, +“let Guy come some time to see me”. +</p> + +<p> +Once the tempter whispered to her, that had she accepted Dr. Holbrook she would +have been spared all this, but Maddy turned a deaf ear to that suggestion. Dr. +Holbrook was too noble a man to have an unloving wife, and not for a moment did +she repent of her decision with regard to him. She almost knew he would say now +that she was right in refusing him, and right in staying there, as she must. +Thoughts of the doctor quieted her, she believed, not knowing that Heaven was +already owning its submissive child, and breathing upon it a soothing +benediction. The moan of the winter wind and the sound of the snow beating +against her little window ceased to annoy her. Heaven, happiness, Aikenside and +Guy, all seem blended into one great good just within her reach, and when the +long clock below the stairs struck three, she did not hear it, but with the +tear stains upon her face she lay nestled among her pillows, dreaming that her +grandmother had come back from the bright world of glory to bless her darling +child. +</p> + +<p> +It was broad noon ere Maddy awoke, and starting up she looked about her in +bewilderment, wondering where she was and what agency had been at work in her +room, transforming it from the cold, comfortless apartment she had entered the +previous night into the cheery-looking chamber, with a warm fire blazing in the +tiny fireplace, a rug spread down upon the hearth, a rocking-chair drawn up +before it, and all traces of the little hired girl as completely obliterated as +if she had never been. In her grief Maddy seemed to have forgotten how to make +things cozy, and as, during her grandmother’s illness, her own room had +been left to the care of the hired girl, Nettie, it wore a neglected, rude +aspect, which had grated on Maddy’s finer feelings, and made everything +so uninviting. But this morning all was changed. Some skillful hand had been +busy there while she slept, and Maddy was wondering who it could be, when the +door opened cautiously and Flora’s good-humored face looked +in—Flora from Aikenside. Maddy knew now to whom she was indebted for all +this comfort, and with a cry of joy she welcomed the girl, whose very presence +brought back something of the life with which she had parted forever. +</p> + +<p> +“Flora,” she exclaimed, “how came you here, and did you make +this fire and fix the room for me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I made the fire,” Flora replied, “and fixed up the +things a little, hustlin’ that young one’s goods out of here; +because it was not fittin’ for you to be sleepin’ with her. Mr. Guy +was mad enough when he found it out.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Guy, Flora? How should he know of our sleeping +’rrangements?” Maddy asked, but Flora evaded a direct reply, +saying, “there was enough ways for things to get to Aikenside;” +then continuing, “How tired you must be, Miss Maddy, to sleep so sound as +never to hear me at all, though to be sure I tried to be still as a mouse. But +let me help you dress. It’s all but noon, and you must be hungry. +I’ve got your breakfast all ready.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, Flora, I can dress myself,” Maddy said, stepping out +upon the floor, and feeling that the world was not as dark as it had seemed to +her when last night she came up to her chamber. +</p> + +<p> +God was comforting her already, and as she made her simple toilet, she tried to +thank Him for His goodness, and ask for grace to make her what she ought to be. +</p> + +<p> +“You have not yet told me why you came here,” she said to Flora, +who was busy making her bed, and who replied: “It’s Mr. Guy’s +work. He thought I’d better come, as you would need help to get things +set to rights, to could go back to school.” +</p> + +<p> +Maddy felt her heart coming up in her throat, but she answered calmly, +“Mr. Guy is very kind—so are you all; but, Flora, I am not going +back to school.” “Not going back!” and Flora stopped her +bed-making, while she stared blankly at Maddy. “What be you going to +do?” “Stay here and take care of grandpa,” Maddy said, +bathing her face and neck in the cold water, which could not cool the feverish +heat she felt spreading all over them. “Stay here! You are crazy, Miss +Maddy! ’Tain’t no place for a girl like you, and Mr. Guy never will +suffer it, I know,” Flora rejoined, as she resumed her work, thinking she +“should die to be moped up in that nutshell of a house.” With a +little sigh as she foresaw the opposition she should probably meet with from +Guy, Maddy went on with her toilet, which was soon completed, as it did not +take long to arrange the dark calico dress and plain linen collar which she +wore. She was not as fresh-looking as usual that morning, for excitement and +fatigue had lent a paleness to her cheek, and a languor to her whole +appearance, but Flora, who glanced anxiously after her as she went out, +muttered to herself, “She was never more beautiful, and I don’t +wonder an atom that Mr. Guy thinks so much of her.” The kitchen was in +perfect order, for Flora had been busy there as elsewhere. The kettle was +boiling on the stove, while two or three little covered dishes were ranged upon +the hearth, as if waiting for some one. Grandpa Markham had gone out, but Uncle +Joseph sat in his accustomed corner, rubbing his hands when he saw Maddy, and +nodding mysteriously toward the front room, the door of which was open, so that +Maddy could hear the fire crackling on the hearth. +</p> + +<p> +“Go in, go in,” Uncle Joseph said, waving his hand in that +direction. “My Lord Governor is in there waiting for you. He won’t +let me spit on the floor any more as Martha did, and I’ve swallowed so +much that I’m almost choked.” +</p> + +<p> +Continual spitting was one of Uncle Joseph’s worst habits, and as his +sister had indulged him in it, it had become a source of great annoyance both +to Maddy, and to some one else of whose proximity Maddy did not dream. Thinking +that Uncle Joseph referred to her grandfather, and feeling glad that the latter +had attempted a reform, she entered the room known at the cottage as the +parlor, the one where the rag carpet was, the six cane-seated chairs and the +Boston rocker, and where now the little round table was nicely laid for two, +while cozily seated in the rocking-chair, reading last night’s paper, and +looking very handsome and happy, was Guy! +</p> + +<p> +When Maddy prayed that he might come and see her she did not expect an answer +so soon, and she started back in much surprise, while Guy came easily forward +to greet her, asking how she was, once telling her she looked tired and thin, +then making her take the chair he had vacated, he stood over her, smoothing her +hair, while he continued: +</p> + +<p> +“I have taken some liberties, you see, and have made myself quite at +home. I knew how unaccustomed you were to the duties of a house, and as I saw +that girl was wholly incompetent, I denied myself at least two hours’ +sleep this morning for the sake of getting here early, bringing Flora with me +and a few things which I thought would be for your comfort. You must excuse me, +but Flora looked so cold when she came down from your chamber, where I sent her +to see how you were, that with your grandfather’s permission I ordered a +fire to be kindled there. I hope you found it comfortable. This house is very +cold.” +</p> + +<p> +He kept talking on, and Maddy in a delicious kind of bewilderment listened to +him, wondering if ever before there was a person so kind and good as Guy. And +really Guy was doing great violence to his pride by being there as he was, but +he could do anything for Maddy, and so he had forced down his pride, trying for +her sake to make the cottage as pleasant as possible. With Flora to assist he +had succeeded wonderfully, and was really enjoying it himself. At first Maddy +could not thank him, her heart was so full, but Guy was satisfied with the +expression of her face, and calling Flora he bade her serve the breakfast. +</p> + +<p> +“You know my habits,” he said, smilingly, as he took a seat at the +table, “and breakfasting at daylight, as I did, has given me an appetite; +so, with your permission, I’ll carve this nice bit of steak for you, +while you pour me a cup of coffee, some of Mrs. Noah’s best. +She”—Guy was going to say, “sent it,” but as no stretch +of the imagination could construe her “calling him a fool” into +sending Maddy coffee, he added instead, “I brought it from Aikenside, +together with this strawberry jelly, of which I remember you were fond;” +and he helped Maddy lavishly from the fanciful jelly jar which yesterday was +adorning the sweetmeat closet at Aikenside. +</p> + +<p> +How chatty and social he was, trying to cheer Maddy up and make her forget that +such a thing as death had so lately found entrance there; talking of Jessie, of +Aikenside, of the pleasant little time they would have during the vacation, and +of the next term at school, when Maddy, as one of the graduating class, would +not be kept in as strictly as heretofore, but allowed to see more of the city. +Maddy felt as if she should die for the pain tugging at her heart, while she +listened to him and knew that the pictures he was drawing were not for her. Her +place was there; and after the breakfast was over and Flora had cleared the +dishes away, she shut the door, so that they might be alone, and then standing +before Guy, she told him of her resolution, begging of him to help her and not +make it harder to bear by devising means for her to escape what she felt to be +an imperative duty. Guy had expected something like this and was prepared, as +he thought, to combat all her arguments; so when she had finished, he replied +that of course he did not wish to interfere with her duty, but there might be a +question as to what really was her duty, and it seemed to him he was better +able to judge of that than herself. It was not right for her to bury herself +there while her education was unfinished, when another could do as well. Her +superior talents were given to her to improve, and how could she improve them +in Honedale; besides her grandfather did not expect her to stay. Guy had talked +with him while she was asleep, and the matter was all arranged; a competent +woman was to be hired to take charge of the domestic arrangements, and if it +seemed desirable, two should be procured; anything to leave Maddy free. +</p> + +<p> +“And grandpa consented to this willingly?” Maddy said, feeling a +throb of pleasure at thoughts of release. But Guy could not answer that the +grandfather consented willingly. +</p> + +<p> +“He thinks it best. When he comes back you can ask him yourself,” +he said, just as Uncle Joseph, opening the door, brought their interview to a +close by asking very meekly, “if it would please the Lord Governor to let +him spit!” +</p> + +<p> +The blood rushed at once to Maddy’s face, and she not repress a smile, +white Guy laughed aloud, saying to her softly: “For your sake, I tried my +skill to stop what I knew must annoy you. Pardon me if I did wrong;” then +turning to Uncle Joseph, he gave the desired permission, together with the +promise of a handsome spittoon, which should be sent down on the morrow. With a +bow Uncle Joseph turned away, muttering to himself, “High doings now +Martha’s gone; but new lords, new laws. I trust he’s not going to +live here;” and slyly he asked Flora if the Lord Governor had brought his +things! +</p> + +<p> +At this point Grandpa Markham came in, and to him Guy appealed at once to know +if he were not willing for Maddy to return to school. +</p> + +<p> +“I said she might if she thought best,” was the reply, spoken so +sadly that Maddy’s arms were at once twined around the old man’s +neck, while she said to him: +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me honestly which you prefer. I’d like so much to go to +school, but I am not sure I should be happy there, knowing how lonely you were +here at home. Say, grandpa, which would you rather now, honor bright?” +and Maddy tried to speak playfully, though her heart-beats were almost audible +as she waited for the answer. +</p> + +<p> +Grandpa could not deceive. He wanted his darling sorely, and he wanted her to +be happy, he said. Perhaps they would get on just as well without her. When Mr. +Guy was talking it looked as if they might, he made it all so plain, but the +sight of Maddy was a comfort. She was all he had left. Maybe he shouldn’t +live long to pester her, and if he didn’t wouldn’t she always feel +better for having stayed with her old grandpa to the last? +</p> + +<p> +He looked very pale and thin, and his hair was white as snow. He could not live +many years, and turning resolutely from Guy, who, so long as he held her eye, +controlled her, Maddy said: +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve chosen once for all. I’ll stay with grandpa till he +dies,” and with a convulsive sob she clung tightly to his neck, as if +fearful that without such told on him her resolution would give way. +</p> + +<p> +It was in vain that Guy strove to change Maddy’s resolution. She was +wholly decided, and late in the afternoon he rode back to Aikenside, a +disappointed man, with, however, the feeling that Maddy had done right, and +that he respected her all the more for withstanding the temptation. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap19"></a>CHAPTER XIX.<br/> +LIFE AT THE COTTAGE.</h2> + +<p> +It was arranged that Flora should for the present at least remain at the +cottage, and Maddy accepted the kindness gratefully. She had become so much +accustomed to being cared for by Guy that she almost looked upon it as a matter +of course, and did not think of what others might possibly say, but when, in as +delicate a manner as possible Guy suggested furnishing the cottage in better +style, even proposing to modernize it entirely in the spring, Maddy objected at +once. “They were already indebted to him for more than they could ever +pay,” she said, and she would not suffer it. So Guy submitted, though it +grated upon his sense of the beautiful and refined terribly, to see Maddy amid +so humble surroundings. Twice a week, and sometimes oftener, he rode down to +Honedale, and Maddy felt that without these visits life would hardly have been +endurable. +</p> + +<p> +During the vacation Jessie spent a part of the time with her, but Agnes +resolutely resisted all Guy’s entreaties that she would at least call +once on Maddy, who had expressed a wish to see her, and who, on account of her +grandfather’s health, and the childishness with which Uncle Joseph clung +to her, could not well come up to Aikenside. Agnes would not go down, neither +would she give other reason for her obstinacy than the apparently foolish one +that she did not wish to see the crazy man. Still she did not object to +Jessie’s going as often as she liked, and she sent by her many little +delicacies from the larder at Aikenside, some for grandpa, but most for Uncle +Joseph, who prized highly everything coming from “the madam,” and +sent back to her more than one strangely worded message which made the proud +woman’s eyes overflow when sure that no one could see her. But this kind +of intercourse came to an end at last. The vacation was over, Jessie had gone +back to school, and Maddy began in sober earnest the new life before her. +Flora, it is true, relieved her of all household drudgery, but no one could +share the burden of care and anxiety pressing so heavily upon her, anxiety for +her grandfather, whose health seemed failing so fast, and who always looked so +disturbed if a shadow were resting on her bright face, or her voice were less +cheerful in its tone, and care for the imbecile Joseph, who clung to her as a +puny child clings to its mother, refusing to be cared for by any one else, and +often requiring of her more than her strength could endure for a great length +of time. She it was who gave him his breakfast in the morning, amused him +through the day, and then, after he was in bed at night, often sat by his side +till a late hour, singing to him old songs, or telling Bible stories until he +fell away to sleep. Then if he awoke, as he frequently did, there was a cry for +Maddy, and the soothing process had to be repeated, until the tired, pale +watcher ceased to wonder that her grandmother had died so suddenly, wondering +rather that she had lived so long and borne so much. +</p> + +<p> +Those were dark, wearisome days to Maddy, and the long, cold winter was gone +from the New England hills, and the early buds of spring were coming up by the +cottage door, the neighbors began to talk of the change which had come over the +young girl, once so full of life and health, but now so languid and pale. Still +Maddy was not unhappy, nor was the discipline too severe, for by it she learned +at last the great object of life; learned to take her troubles and cares to One +who helped her bear them so cheerfully, that those who pitied her most never +dreamed how heavy was her burden, so patiently and sweetly she bore it. +Occasionally there came to her letters from the doctor, but latterly they gave +her less pleasure than pain, for as sure as she read one of his kind, friendly +messages of sympathy and remembrance, the tempter whispered to her that though +she did not love him as she ought to love her husband, yet a life with him was +far preferable to the life she was living, and a receipt of his letters always +gave her a pang which lasted until Guy came down to see her, when it usually +disappeared. Agnes was now at Aikenside, and thus Maddy frequently had Jessie +at the cottage, but Agnes never came, and Maddy little guessed how often the +proud woman cried herself to sleep after listening to Jessie’s recital of +all Maddy had to do for the crazy man, and how patiently she did it. He had +taken a fancy that Maddy must tell him stories of Sarah, describing her as she +was now, not as she used to be when he knew her, but now. “What is she +now? How does she look? What does she wear? Tell me, tell me!” he would +plead, until Maddy, forced to tell him something, and having distinctly in her +mind but one fashionable woman such as she fancied Sarah might be, told him of +Agnes Remington, describing her as she was in her mature beauty, with her heavy +flowing curls, her brilliant color, her flashing diamonds and costly laces, and +Uncle Joseph, listening to her with parted lips and hushed breath, would +whisper softly, “Yes, that’s Sarah, beautiful Sarah; but tell +me—does she ever think of me, or of that time in the orchard when I wove +the apple blossoms in her hair, where the diamonds are now? She loved me then; +she told me so. Does she know how sick, and sorry, and foolish I am?—how +the aching in my poor, simple brain is all for her, and how you, Maddy, are +doing for me what it is her place to do? Had I a voice,” and the crazy +man now grew excited, as, raising himself in bed, he gesticulated wildly, +“had I a voice to reach her, I’d cry shame on her, to let you do +her work, let you-wear your young life and fresh, bright beauty all away for +me, whom she ruined.” +</p> + +<p> +The voice he craved, or the echo of it, did reach her, for Jessie had been +present when the fancy first seized him to hear of Sarah, and in the shadowy +twilight she told her mother all, dwelling most upon the touching sadness of +his face when he said, “Does she know how sick and sorry I am?” +</p> + +<p> +The pillow which Agnes pressed that night was wet with tears, while in her +heart was planted a germ of gratitude and respect for the young girl doing her +work for her. All that she could do for Maddy without going directly to her, +she did, devising many articles of comfort, sending her fruit and flowers, the +last new book, or whatever else she thought might please her, and always +finding a willing messenger in Guy. He was miserable, and managed when at home +to make others so around him. The sight of Maddy bearing her burden so +uncomplainingly almost maddened him. Had she fretted or complained could bear +it better, he said, but he did not see the necessity for her to lose all her +spirit or interest in everything and everybody. Once when he hinted as much to +Maddy, he had been awed into silence by the subdued expression of her face as +she told him in part what it was which helped her to bear and made the rough +places so smooth. He had seen something like this in Lucy, when paroxysms of +pain were racking her delicate frame, but he could not understand it; he only +knew it was something he could not touch—something against which his +arguments beat helplessly, and so, with an added respect for Maddy Clyde, he +smothered his impatience, and determining to help her all he could, rode down +to Honedale every day, instead of twice a week, as he had done before. +</p> + +<p> +Attentions so marked could not fail to be commented upon; and while poor, +unsuspecting Maddy was deriving so much comfort from his daily visits, deeming +that day very long which did not bring him to her, the Honedale gossips, of +which there were many, were busy with her affairs, talking them over at their +numerous tea-drinkings, discussing them in the streets, and finally at a +quilting, where they met in solemn conclave, deciding, that, “for a girl +like Maddy Clyde it did not look well to have so much to do with that young +Remington, who, everybody knew, was engaged to a somebody in England.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, and would have been married long ago, if it wasn’t for this +foolin’ with Maddy,” chimed in Mrs. Joel Spike, throwing the chalk +across the quilt to her sister, Tripheny Marvel, who wondered if Maddy thought +he’d ever have her. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course he wouldn’t. He knew what he was about. He was not green +enough to marry Grandpa Markham’s daughter; and if she didn’t look +out, she’d get herself into a pretty scrape. It didn’t look well, +anyhow, for her to be putting on airs, as she had done ever since big folks +took her up, and she guessed she wouldn’t be beholden to nobody for her +larnin’.” +</p> + +<p> +All this and much more was discussed, and by the time the patchwork thing was +done, there remained but little to be said either for or against Guy Remington +and Maddy Clyde which had not been said by either friend or foe. +</p> + +<p> +Among the invited guests at that quilting was the wife of Farmer Green, +Maddy’s warmest friend in Honedale, and the one who did her best to +defend her against the attacks of those whose remarks she well knew were caused +more by envy than any personal dislike to Maddy, who used to be so much of a +pet until her superior advantages separated her in a measure from them. Good +Mrs. Green was sorely tried. Without in the least blaming Maddy, she, too, had +been troubled at the frequency of Guy’s Visits to the cottage. It was not +friendship alone which took him there, she was sure; and knowing that he was +engaged, she feared for Maddy’s happiness at first, and afterward, when +people began to talk, she feared for her good name. Something must be done, and +though she dreaded it greatly, she was the one to do it. Accordingly, next day +she started for the cottage, which Guy had just left, and this, in her opinion, +accounted for the bright color in Maddy’s cheek and the sparkle in her +eye. Guy had been there, bringing and leaving a world of sunshine, but, alas, +his chances for coming ever again as he had done were fearfully small, when, at +the close of Mrs. Green’s well-meant visit, Maddy lay on her bed, her +white, frightened face buried in the pillows, and herself half wishing she had +died before the last hour had come, with the terrible awakening it had brought; +awakening to the fact that of all living beings, Guy Remington was the one she +loved the best—the one without whose presence it seemed to her she could +not live, but without which she now knew she must. +</p> + +<p> +With the best of intentions Mrs. Green had made a bungle of the whole affair, +but had succeeded in giving Maddy a general impression that folks were talking +awfully about Guy’s coming there, and doing for her so much like an +accepted lover, when everybody knew he was engaged, and wouldn’t be +likely to marry a poor girl if he wasn’t; that unless she wanted to be +ruined teetotally, and lose all her friends, she must contrive to stop his +visits, and not see him so much. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I’ll do anything, only please leave me now,” Maddy +gasped, her face as white as ashes and her eyes fixed pleadingly upon Mrs. +Green, who, having been young herself, guessed the truth, and, as she arose to +go, laid her motherly hand on Maddy’s head, saving kindly: +</p> + +<p> +“Poor child, it’s hard to bear now, but you’ll get over it in +time.” +</p> + +<p> +“Get over it,” Maddy moaned, as she shut and bolted the door after +Mrs. Green, and then threw herself upon the bed, “I never shall till I +die.” +</p> + +<p> +She almost felt that she was dying then, so desolate and so dreary the future +looked to her. What was life worth without Guy, and why had she been thrown so +much in his way; why permitted to love him as she knew she did, if she must +lose him now? Maddy could not cry; there was a tightness about her eyes, and a +keen, cutting pain about her heart as she tried to pray for strength to do what +was right—strength to cast Guy Remington from her heart where it was a +sin for him to be; and then she asked to be forgiven for the wrong she had +unwittingly done to Lucy Atherstone, who trusted implicitly, and who, in her +last letter, had said: +</p> + +<p> +“If I had not so much faith in Guy I should be jealous of one who has so +many opportunities for stealing his heart from me. But I trust you, Maddy +Clyde. You would not do a thing to harm me, I am sure, and to lose Guy now, +after these years of cruel waiting, would kill me.” +</p> + +<p> +Sweet Lucy, there was in her heart a faint stirring of fear lest Maddy Clyde +might be a shadow in her pathway, else she had never written that to her. But +Lucy’s cause was safe in Maddy’s hands. Always too high-souled to +do a treacherous act, she was now sustained by another and holier principle, +which of itself would have kept her from the wrong. But for a few moments Maddy +abandoned herself to the bliss of fancying what it would be to be loved by Guy +Remington, even as she loved him. And as she thought, there crept into her +heart the certainty that in some degree he did love her; that his friendship +was more than a mere liking for the girl to whom he had been so kind. In +Lucy’s absence she was essential to his happiness, and that was why he +sought her society so much. Remembering everything that had passed, but more +particularly the incidents of that memorable night ride to Honedale with all +that had followed since, she could not doubt it, and softly to herself she +whispered, “He loves me, he loves me,” while little throbs of joy +beat all over her heart; but only for an instant, and then the note of joy was +changed to sorrow as she thought how she must henceforth seek to kill that +love, both for her own sake and Lucy’s. Guy must not come there any more. +She could not bear it now, even if the neighbors had never meddled with her. +She could not see him as she had done, and not betray her real feelings toward +him. He had been there that day; he would come again tomorrow. She could see +him now just as he would look coming up the walk, easy and self-possessed, +confident of his reception, his handsome face beaming all over with kind +thoughtfulness for her, and his voice full of tender concern as he asked how +she was, and bade Flora see that she did not overtax herself, and all this must +cease. She had seen it, heard it for the last time. No wonder that +Maddy’s heart fainted within her, as she thought how desolate, how dreary +would be the days when Guy no longer came. But the victory was gained at last, +and strength imparted for the task she had to do. +</p> + +<p> +Going to the table she opened her portfolio, the gift of Guy, and with her gold +pen, also his gift, wrote to him what the neighbors were saying, and that he +must come there no more; at least, only once in a great while, because if he +did, she could not see him. Then, when this was written, she went down to Uncle +Joseph, beginning to call for her, and sat by him as usual, singing to him the +songs he loved so well, and which this night pleased him especially, because +the voice which sang them was so plaintive, so full of woe. Would he never go +to sleep, or the hand which held hers so firmly relax its hold? Never, it +seemed to Maddy, who sat and sang, while the night-bird on a distant tree, +awakened by the low song, uttered a responsive note, and the hours crept on to +midnight. Human nature could endure no more, and when the crazy man said to +her, “Now sing of Him who died on Calvary,” Maddy’s answer +was a gaping cry as she fell fainting on the pillow. +</p> + +<p> +“It was only a nervous headache,” she said to the frightened Flora, +who came at Uncle Joseph’s call, and helped her young mistress up to bed. +“She should be better in the morning, and she would rather be +alone.” +</p> + +<p> +So Flora left her there, but went often to her door, until assured by the low +breathing sound that Maddy was sleeping at last. It was a heavy sleep, and when +Maddy awakened from it the pain in her temples was there still; she could not +rise, and half glad that she could not, inasmuch as her illness would be a +reason why she could not see Guy if he came. She did not know he was here +already, until she heard his voice speaking to her grandfather. It was later +than she imagined, and he had ridden down early because he could not stay away. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t see him, Flora,” Maddy said, when the latter came up +with the message that Mr. Remington was there with his buggy, and asked if a +little ride would not do her good. “I can’t see him, but give him +this,” and she placed in Flora’s hand the note, baptized with so +many tears and prayers, and the contents of which made Guy furious; not at her, +but at the neighbors, the inquisitive, envious, ignorant, meddlesome neighbors, +who had dared to talk of him, or to breathe a suspicious word against Maddy +Clyde. He would see; he would make them sorry for it; they should take back +every word; and they should beg Maddy’s forgiveness for the pain they had +caused her. +</p> + +<p> +All this, and much more, Guy thought, as with Maddy’s note in his hand he +walked up and down the sitting-room, raging like a young lion, and threatening +vengeance upon everybody. This was not the first intimation Guy had received of +the people’s gossip, for only that morning Mrs. Noah had hinted that his +course was not at all calculated to do Maddy any good, while Agnes had repeated +to him some things which she had heard touching the frequency of his visits to +Honedale; but these were nothing to the calmly worded message which banished +him effectually from Maddy’s presence. He knew Maddy, and he knew, she +meant what she wrote, but he could not have it so. He must see her; he would +see her; and so for the next half hour Flora was the bearer of written messages +to and from Maddy’s room; messages of earnest entreaty on the one hand, +and of firm denial on the other. At last Maddy wrote: +</p> + +<p> +“If you care for me in the least, or for my respect, leave me, and do not +come again until I send for you. I am not insensible to your kindness. I feel +it all; but the world is nearer right than you suppose. It does not look well +for you to come here so much, and I prefer that you should not. Justice to Lucy +requires that you stay away.” +</p> + +<p> +That ended it! That roused up Guy’s pride, and writing back: +</p> + +<p> +“You shall be obeyed. Good-by.” He sprang into his buggy, and +Maddy, listening, with head and heart throbbing alike, heard him as he drove +furiously away. +</p> + +<p> +Those were long, dreary days which followed, and but for her +grandfather’s increasing feebleness Maddy would almost have died. Anxiety +for him, however, kept her from dwelling too much upon herself, but the +excitement and the care wore upon her sadly, robbing her eye of its luster and +her cheek of its remaining bloom, making even Mrs. Noah cry when she came one +day with Jessie to see how they were getting on. She had heard from Guy of his +banishment, and now that he stayed away, she was ready to step in; so she came, +laden with sympathy and other more substantial comforts brought from the +Aikenside larder. +</p> + +<p> +Maddy was glad to see her, and for a time cried softly on her bosom, while Mrs. +Noah’s tears kept company with hers. Not a word was said of Guy, except +when Jessie told her he was gone to Boston, and it was so stupid at home +without him. +</p> + +<p> +With more than her ordinary discretion, Flora kept to herself what had passed +when Guy was last there, so Mrs. Noah knew nothing except what he had told her, +and what she read in Maddy’s white, suffering face. This last was enough +to excite all her pity, and she treated the young girl with the most motherly +kindness, staying all night, and herself taking care of grandpa, who was now +too ill to sit up. There seemed to be no disease preying upon him, nothing save +old age, and the loss of one who for more than forty years had shared all his +joy and sorrow. He could not live without her, and one night, three weeks after +Guy’s dismissal, he said to Maddy, as she was about to leave him: +</p> + +<p> +“Sit with me, darling, for a little while, if you are not too tired. Your +grandmother seems near me to-night, and so does Alice, your mother. Maybe +I’ll be with them before another day. I hope I may if God is willing, and +there’s much I would say to you.” +</p> + +<p> +He was very pale, and the great sweat drops stood on his forehead and under his +white hair, but Maddy wiped them away and listened with a breaking heart while +the aged disciple almost home told her of the peace, the joy, that shone around +his pathway to the tomb, and of the everlasting arm bearing him so gently over +Jordan. Then he talked of herself, blessing her for all she had been to him, +telling her how happy she had made his life since she came home to stay, and +how for a time he had ached so with fear lest she should choose to go back and +leave him to a stranger. “But my darling stayed with her old grandpa. +She’ll never be sorry for it, never. I’ve tried you sometimes, I +know, for old folks ain’t like young; but I’m sorry, Maddy, and +you’ll forget it when I’m gone, darling Maddy, precious +child;” and the trembling hand rested caressingly on her bowed head as +grandpa went on to speak of his affairs, his little property which was hers +after the mortgage to Mr. Guy was paid. “I’ve kept up the +interest,” he said, “but I could never get him to take any of the +principal. I don’t know why he is so good to me. Tell him, Maddy, how I +thanked and blessed him just before I died; tell him how I used to pray for him +every day that he might choose the better part. And he will—I’m +sure he will, some day. He hasn’t been here of late, and though my old +eyes are dim, I can see that your step has got slow, and your face whiter by +many shades, since he stayed away. Maddy, child, the dead tell no secrets, and +I shall soon be dead. Tell me, then, what it is between you two. Does my girl +love Mr. Guy?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, grandpa! grandpa!” Maddy moaned, laying her head beside his +own on the pillow. +</p> + +<p> +It would be a relief to talk with some one of that terrible pain, which grew +worse every day; of that intense longing just for one sight of the beloved one; +of Guy, still absent from Aikenside, wandering nobody knew where; and so Maddy +told the whole story, while the dying man listened to her, and smoothing her +silken hair, tried to comfort her. +</p> + +<p> +“The worst is not over yet,” he said. “Guy will offer to make +you his wife, sacrificing Lucy for you, and if he does, what will my darling +do?” +</p> + +<p> +Maddy’s heart leaped up into her throat, and for a moment prevented her +from answering, for the thought of Guy’s really offering to make her his +wife, to shield her from evil, to enfold her in his tender love, made her giddy +with joy. But it could not be, and she answered through her tears: +</p> + +<p> +“I shall tell him no.” +</p> + +<p> +“God bless my Maddy! She will tell him no for Lucy’s sake, and God +will bring it right at last,” the old man whispered, his voice growing +very faint and tremulous. “She will tell him no,” he kept +repeating, until, rousing up to greater consciousness, he spoke of Uncle +Joseph, and asked what Maddy would do with him; would she send him back to the +asylum, or care for him there? “He will be happier here,” he said, +“but it is asking too much of a young girl like you. He may live for +years.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know, grandpa. I hope I may do right. I think I shall keep +Uncle Joseph with me,” Maddy replied, a shudder creeping over her as she +thought of living out all her youth and possibly middle age with a lunatic. +</p> + +<p> +But her grandfather’s whispered blessings brought comfort with them, and +a calm quiet fell upon her as she sat there listening to the words of prayer, +and catching now and then her own name and that of Guy’s. +</p> + +<p> +“I am drowsy, Maddy. Watch while I sleep. Perhaps I’ll never wake +again,” grandpa said, and clasping Maddy’s hands he fell away to +sleep, while Maddy kept her watch beside him, herself falling into a troubled +sleep, from which she was aroused by a clammy hand pressing on her forehead, +and Uncle Joseph’s voice, which said: “Wake, my child. +There’s been a guest here while you slumbered,” and he pointed to +the rigid features of the newly dead. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap20"></a>CHAPTER XX.<br/> +THE BURDEN GROWS HEAVIER.</h2> + +<p> +Of the days which followed, Maddy had no distinct consciousness. She only knew +that other hands than hers cared for the dead, that in the little parlor a +stiff, white figure lay, that neighboring women stole in, treading on tiptoe, +and speaking in hushed voices as they consulted, not her, but Mrs. Noah, who +had come at once, and cared for her and hers so kindly. That she lay all day in +her own room, where the summer breeze blew softly through the window, bringing +the perfume of summer flowers, the sound of a tolling bell, of grinding wheels, +the notes of a low, sad hymn, sung in faltering tones, and of many feet moving +from the door. Then friendly faces looked in upon her, asking how she felt, and +whispering ominously to each other as she answered: +</p> + +<p> +“Very well; is grandpa getting better?” +</p> + +<p> +Then Mrs. Noah sat with her for a time, fanning her with a palm-leaf fan and +brushing the flies away. Then Flora came up with a man whom they called +“Doctor,” and who gave his sundry little pills and powders +dissolved in water, after which they all went out and left her there with +Jessie who had been crying, and whose soft little hands felt so cool on her hot +head, and whose kisses on her lips made the tears start, and brought a thought +of Guy, making her ask, “if he was at the funeral.” She did not +know whose funeral, or why she used that word, only it seemed to her that +Jessie just came back from somebody’s grave, and she asked if Guy was +there. “No,” Jessie said; “mother wanted to write and tell +him, but we don’t know where he is.” +</p> + +<p> +And this was all Maddy could recall of the days succeeding the night of her +last watch at her grandfather’s side, until one balmy August afternoon, +when on the Honedale hills there lay that smoky haze so like the autumn time +hurrying on apace, and when through her open window stole the fragrance of the +later summer flowers. Then, as if waking from an ordinary sleep, she woke +suddenly to consciousness, and staring about the room, wondered if it were as +late as the western sun would indicate, and how she came to sleep so long. For +a while she lay thinking, and as she thought, a sad scene came back to her, a +night when her hot hands had been enfolded in those of the dead, and that dead +her grandfather. Was it true, or was she laboring under some hallucination of +the brain? If true, was that white, placid face still to be seen in the room +below, or had they burial him from her sight? She would know, and with a +strange kind of nervous strength she arose, and throwing on the wrapper and +slippers which lay near, descended the stairs, wondering to find herself so +weak, and half shuddering at the deep stillness of the house; stillness broken +only by the ticking of the clock and the purring of the house cat, which at +sight of Maddy arose from its position near the door and came forward, rubbing +its sides against her dress, and trying in various ways to evince its joy at +seeing one whose caresses it had missed so long. The little bedroom off the +kitchen where grandpa slept and died was vacant; the old fashioned coat was put +away, as was every vestige of the old man save the broad-rimmed hat which hung +upon the wall just where his hands had hung it, and which looked so much like +its owner that with a gush of tears Maddy sank upon the bed, moaning to +herself, “Yes, grandpa is dead. I remember now. But Uncle Joseph, where +is he? Can he too have died without my knowledge? and she looked round in vain +for the lunatic, not a trace of whom was to be found. His room was in perfect +order, as was everything about the house, showing that Flora was still the +domestic goddess, while Maddy detected also various things which she recognized +as having come from Aikenside. Who sent them? Did Guy, and had he been there +too while she was sick? The thought brought a throb of joy to Maddy’s +heart, but it soon passed away as she began again to wonder if Uncle Joseph too +had died, and where Flora was. It was not far to the Honedale burying ground. +Maddy could see the headstones from where she sat gleaming through the August +sunlight; could discern her mother’s, and knew that two fresh mounds at +least were made beside it. But were there three? Was Uncle Joseph there? By +stealing across the meadow in the rear of the house the distance to the +graveyard was shortened more than half, and could not be more than the eighth +part of a mile, She could walk so far, she knew. The fresh air would do her +good, and hunting up her long unused flat, the impatient girl started, stopping +once or twice to rest as a dizzy faintness came over her, and then continuing +on until the spot she sought was reached, Three graves, one old and sunken, one +made when the last winter’s snow was on the hills, the other fresh and +new. That was all, Uncle Joseph was not there, and vague terror entered +Maddy’s heart lest he had been taken back to the asylum. +</p> + +<p> +“I will get him out,” she said; “I will take care of him. I +should die with nothing to do; and I promised grandpa——” +</p> + +<p> +She could get no farther, for the rush of memories which came over her, and +seating herself upon the ground close to the new grave, she laid her face upon +it, and sobbed piteously: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, grandpa. I’m so lonely without you all; I almost wish I was +lying here in the quiet yard.” +</p> + +<p> +Then a storm of tears ensued, after which Maddy grew calm, and with her head +still bent low, did not hear the rapid step approaching, the manly step coming +down the grassy road, coming past the marble tombstones, on to where that +wasted figure was crouching upon the ground. There it stopped, and in a half +whisper called, “Maddy! Maddy!” Then indeed she started, and +lifting up her head saw before her Guy Remington. For a moment she regarded him +intently while he said to her, oh so kindly, so pityingly. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor child, you have suffered so much, and I never knew of it till a few +days ago.” +</p> + +<p> +At the sound of that loved voice speaking thus to her, everything else was +forgotten, and with a cry of joy Maddy stretched her hands toward him, moaning +out: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Guy, Guy, where have you been, when I wanted you so much?” +</p> + +<p> +Maddy did not know what she was saying, or half comprehend the effect it had on +Guy, who forgot everything save that she wanted him, had missed him, had turned +to him in her trouble, and it was not in his nature to resist her appeal. With +a spring he was at her side, and lifting her in his arms seated himself upon +her mother’s grave; then straining her tightly to his bosom, he kissed +her again and again. Hot, burning, passionate kisses they were, which took from +Maddy all power of resistance, even had she wished it, which she did not. Too +weak to reason, or see the harm, if harm there were, in being loved by Guy, she +abandoned herself for a brief interval to the bliss of knowing that she was +beloved, and of hearing him tell her so. +</p> + +<p> +“Darling Maddy,” he said, “I went away because you sent me, +but now I have come back, and nothing shall part us again. You are mine; I +claim you here at your mother’s grave. Precious Maddy, I did not know of +all this till three days ago, when Agnes’ letter found me almost at the +Rocky Mountains. I traveled day and night, reaching Aikenside this morning, and +coming straight to Honedale. I wish I had come before, now that I know you +wanted me. Say that again, Maddy. Tell me again that you missed and wanted +me.” +</p> + +<p> +He was smoothing her hair now, as her head still lay pillowed upon his breast, +so he could not see the spasm of pain which contorted her features as he thus +appealed to her. Half bewildered, Maddy could not at first make out whether it +were a blissful dream or a reality, her lying there in Guy’s arms with +his kisses on her forehead, lips and cheek, his words of devotion in her ear, +and the soft summer sky smiling down upon her. Alas, it was a dream from which +she was awakened by the thought of one across the sea, whose place she had +usurped, and this it was which brought the grieved expression to her face as +she answered mournfully: +</p> + +<p> +“I did want you, Guy, when I forgot; but now—oh, Guy—Lucy +Atherstone!” +</p> + +<p> +With a gesture of impatience Guy was about to answer, when something in the +heavy fall of the little hand from his shoulder alarmed him, and lifting up the +drooping head he saw that Maddy had fainted. Then back across the meadow Guy +bore her to the cottage, where Flora, just returned from a neighbor’s, +whither she had gone upon an errand, was looking for her in much affright, and +wondering who had come from Aikenside with that wet, tired horse, showing so +plainly how hard it had been driven. +</p> + +<p> +Up again into her little chamber Maddy was carried and laid upon the bed, which +she never left until the golden harvest sheaves were gathered in, and the hot +September sun was ripening the fruits of autumn. But now she had a new nurse, a +constant attendant, who during the day seldom left her except to talk with and +amuse Uncle Joseph, mourning below because no one sang to him or noticed him as +Maddy used to do. He had not been sent to the asylum, as Maddy feared, but by +way of relieving Flora had been taken to Farmer Green’s, where he was so +homesick and discontented that at Guy’s instigation he was suffered to +return to the cottage, crying like a little child when the old familiar spot +was reached, kissing his armchair, the cook-stove, the tongs, Mrs. Noah and +Flora, and timidly offering to kiss the Lord Governor himself, as he persisted +in calling Guy, who declined the honor, but listened quietly to the crazy +man’s promise “not to spit the smallest kind of a spit on the +floor, or anywhere, except in its proper place.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy had passed through several states of mind during the interval in which we +have seen so little of him. Furious at one time, and reckless as to +consequences, he had determined to break with Lucy and marry Maddy, in spite of +everybody; then, as a sense of honor came over him, he resolved to forget +Maddy, if possible, and marry Lucy at once. It was in this last mood, and while +roaming over the Western country, whither after his banishment he had gone, +that he wrote to Lucy a strange kind of letter, saying he had waited for her +long enough, and sick or well he should claim her the coming autumn. To this +letter Lucy had responded quickly, sweetly reproving Guy for his impatience, +softly hinting that latterly he had been quite as culpable as herself in the +matter of deferring their union and appointing the bridal day for the—of +December. After this was settled Guy felt better, though the old sore spot in +his heart, where Maddy Clyde had been, was very sore still, and sometimes it +required all his powers of self-control to keep from writing to Lucy and asking +to be released from an engagement so irksome as his had become. Neglecting to +answer Agnes’ letters when he first left home, she did not know where he +was until a short time before, when she wrote apprising him of grandpa’s +death and Maddy’s severe illness. This brought him, while Maddy’s +involuntary outburst when she met him in the graveyard, changed the whole +current of his intentions. Let what would come, Maddy Clyde should be his wife +and as such he watched over her, nursing her back to life, and by his manner +effectually silencing all remark, so that the neighbors whispered among +themselves what Maddy’s prospects were, and, as was quite natural, were a +very little more attentive to the future lady of Aikenside. Poor Maddy! it was +a terrible trial which awaited her, but it must be met, and so with prayers and +tears she fortified herself to meet it, while Guy, the devoted lover, hung over +her, never guessing of all that was passing in her mind, or how, when he was +out of sight, the lips he had longed so much to kiss, but never had since that +day in the graveyard, quivered with anguish as they asked for strength to do +right. Oh, how Maddy did love the man she must give up, and how often went up +the wailing cry, “Help me, Father, to do my duty, and give me, too, a +greater inclination to do it than I now possess.” +</p> + +<p> +Maddy’s heart did fail her sometimes, and she might have yielded to the +temptation but for Lucy’s letter, full of eager anticipations of the time +when she should see Guy never to part again. +</p> + +<p> +“Sometimes,” she wrote, “there comes over me a dark +foreboding of evil—a fear that I shall miss the cup now within my reach; +but I pray the bad feelings away. I am sure there is no living being who will +come between us to break my heart, and as I know God doeth all things well, I +trust Him wholly, and cease to doubt.” +</p> + +<p> +It was well the letter came when it did, as it helped Maddy to meet the hour +she so much dreaded, and which came at last on an afternoon when Mrs. Noah had +gone to Aikenside, and Flora had gone on an errand to a neighbor’s, two +miles away, thus leaving Guy free to tell the story, the old, old story, yet +always new to him who tells it and her who listens—story which, as Guy +told it, sitting by Maddy’s side, with her hands in his, thrilled her +through and through, making the sweat drops start out around her lips and +underneath her hair—story which made Guy himself pant nervously and +tremble like a leaf, so earnestly he told it; told how long he had loved her, +of the picture withheld, the jealousy he felt each time the doctor named her, +the selfish joy he experienced when he heard the doctor was refused; told of +his growing dissatisfaction with his engagement, his frequent resolves to break +it, his final decision, which that scene in the graveyard had reversed, and +then asked if she would not be his—not doubtfully, but confidently, +eagerly, as if sure of her answer. +</p> + +<p> +Alas for Guy! he could not believe he heard aright when, turning her head away +for a moment while she prayed for strength, Maddy’s answer came, “I +cannot, Guy, I cannot. I acknowledge the love which has stolen upon me, I know +not how, but I cannot do this wrong to Lucy. Away from me you will love her +again. You must. Read this, Guy, then say if you can desert her.” +</p> + +<p> +She placed Lucy’s letter in his hand, and Guy read it with a heart which +ached to its very core. It was cruel to deceive that gentle, trusting girl +writing so lovingly of him, but to lose Maddy was to his undisciplined nature +more dreadful still, and casting the letter aside he pleaded again, this time +with the energy of despair, for he read his fate in Maddy’s face, and +when her lips a second time confirmed her first reply, while she appealed to +his sense of honor, of justice, of right, and told him he could and must forget +her, he knew there was no hope, and man though he was, bowed his head upon +Maddy’s hands and wept stormily, mighty, choking sobs, which shook his +frame, and seemed to break up the very fountains of his life. Then to Maddy +there came a terrible temptation. Was it right for two who loved as they did to +live their lives apart?—right in her to force on Guy the fulfillment of +vows he could not literally keep? As mental struggles are always the more +severe, so Maddy’s took all her strength away, and for many minutes she +lay so white and still that Guy roused himself to care for her, thinking of +nothing then except to make her better. +</p> + +<p> +It was a long time ere that interview ended, but when it did there was on +Maddy’s face a peaceful expression, which only the sense of having done +right at the cost of a fearful sacrifice could give, while Guy’s bore +traces of a great and crushing sorrow, as he went out from Maddy’s +presence and felt that to him she was lost forever. He had promised her he +would do right; had said he would marry Lucy, being to her what a husband +should be; had listened while she talked of another world, where they neither +marry nor are given in marriage, and where it would not be sinful for them to +love each other, and as she talked her face had shone like the face of an +angel. He had held one of her hands at parting, bending low his head, while she +laid the other on it as she blessed him, letting her snowy fingers thread his +soft brown hair and linger caressingly among his curly locks. But that was over +now. They had parted forever. She was lying where he left her, cold, and white, +and faint with dizzy pain. He was riding swiftly toward Aikenside, his heart +beats keeping time to the swift tread of his horse’s feet, and his mind a +confused medley of distracted thoughts, amid which two facts stood out +prominent and clear-he had lost Maddy Clyde, and had promised her to marry Lucy +Atherstone. +</p> + +<p> +For many days after that Guy kept his room, saying he was sick, and refusing to +see any one save Jessie and Mrs. Noah, the latter of whom guessed in part what +had happened, and imputing to him far more credit than he deserved, petted and +pitied and cared for him until he grew weary of it, and said to her savagely: +“You needn’t think me so good, for I am not. I wanted Maddy Clyde, +and told her so, but she refused me and made me promise to marry Lucy; so +I’m going to do that very thing—going to England in a few weeks, or +as soon as Maddy is better, and before the sun of this year sets I shall be a +married man.” +</p> + +<p> +After this all Mrs. Noah’s sympathy was in favor of Maddy, the good lady +making more than one pilgrimage to Honedale, where she expended all her +arguments trying to make Maddy revoke her decision; but Maddy was firm in what +she deemed right, and as her health began slowly to improve, and there was no +longer an excuse for Guy to tarry, he gave out to the neighborhood that he was +at last to be married, and started for England the latter part of October, as +unhappy and unwilling a bridegroom, it may be, as ever wait after a bride. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap21"></a>CHAPTER XXI.<br/> +THE INTERVAL BEFORE THE MARRIAGE.</h2> + +<p> +Maddy never knew how she lived through those bright, autumnal days, when the +gorgeous beauty of decaying nature seemed so cruelly to mock her anguish. As +long as Guy was there, breathing the same air with herself, she kept up, +vaguely conscious of a shadowy hope that something would happen without her +instrumentality, something to ease the weight pressing so hard upon her. But +when she heard that he had really gone, that a line had been received from him +after he was on board the steamer, all hope died out of her heart, and had it +been right she would have prayed that she might die and forget how utterly +miserable she was. +</p> + +<p> +At last there came to her three letters, one from Lucy, one from the doctor, +and one from Guy himself. Lucy’s she opened first, reading of the sweet +girl’s great happiness in seeing her darling boy again, of her sorrow to +find him so thin, and pale, and changed, in all save his extreme kindness to +her, his careful study of her wants, and evident anxiety to please her in every +respect. On this Lucy dwelt, until Maddy’s heart seemed to leap up and +almost turn over in its casing, so fiercely it throbbed and ached with anguish. +She was out in the beechen woods when she read the letter, and laying her face +in the grass she sobbed as she had never sobbed before. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor’s next was opened, and Maddy read with blinding tears that +which for a moment increased her pain and sent to her bleeding heart an added +pang of disappointment, or a sense of wrong done to her, she could not tell +which. Dr. Holbrook was to be married the same day with Lucy, and to +Lucy’s sister, Margaret. +</p> + +<p> +“Maggie, I call her,” he wrote, “because that name is so much +like my first love, Maddy, the little girl who though I was too old to be her +husband, and so made me very wretched for a time, until I met and knew Margaret +Atherstone. I have told her of you, Maddy; I would not marry her without, and +she seems willing to take me as I am. We shall come home with Guy, who is the +mere wreck of what he was when I last saw him. He has told me, Maddy, all about +it, and though I doubly respect you now, I cannot say that I think you did +quite right. Better that one should suffer than two, and Lucy’s is a +nature which will forget far sooner than yours or Guy’s. I pity you +all.” +</p> + +<p> +This almost killed Maddy; she did not love the doctor, but the knowledge that +he was to marry another added to her misery, while what he said of her decision +was the climax of the whole. Had her sacrifice been for nothing? Would it have +been better if she had not sent Guy away? It was anguish unspeakable to believe +so, and the shadowy woods never echoed to so bitter a cry of pain as that with +which she laid her head on the ground, and for a brief moment wished that she +might die. God pitied His child then, and for the next half hour she hardly +knew what she suffered. +</p> + +<p> +There was Guy’s letter yet to read, and with a listless indifference she +opened it, starting as there dropped into her lap a small <i>carte de +viste</i>, a perfect likeness of Guy, who sent it, he said, because he wished +her to have so much of himself. It would make him happier to know she could +sometimes look at him just as he should gaze upon her dear picture after it was +a sin to love the original. And this was all the direct reference he made to +the past except where he spoke of Lucy, telling how happy she was, and how if +anything could reconcile him to his fate, it was the knowing how pure and good +and loving was the wife he was getting. Then he wrote of the doctor and +Margaret, whom he described as a dashing, brilliant girl, the veriest tease and +madcap in the world, and the exact opposite of Maddy. +</p> + +<p> +“It is strange to me why he chose her after loving you,” he wrote; +“but as they seem fond of each other, their chances of happiness are not +inconsiderable.” +</p> + +<p> +This letter, so calm, so cheerful in its tone, had a quieting effect on Maddy, +who read it twice, and then placing it in her bosom, started for the cottage, +meeting on the way with Flora who was seeking for her in great alarm. Uncle +Joseph had had a fit, she said, and fallen upon the floor, cutting his forehead +badly against the sharp point of the stove. Hurrying on Maddy found that what +Flora had said was true, and sent immediately for the physician, who came at +once, but shook his head doubtfully as he examined his patient. There were all +the symptoms of a fever, he said, bidding Maddy prepare for the worst. Nothing +in the form of trouble could particularly affect Maddy now, and perhaps it was +wisely ordered that Uncle Joseph’s illness should take her thoughts from +herself. From the very first he refused to take his medicines from any one save +her or Jessie, who with her mother’s permission stayed altogether at the +cottage, and who, as Guy’s sister, was a great comfort to Maddy. +</p> + +<p> +As the fever increased, and Uncle Joseph grew more and more delirious his cries +for Sarah were heartrending, making Jessie weep bitterly as she said to Maddy: +</p> + +<p> +“If I knew where this Sarah was I’d go miles on foot to find her +and bring her to him.” +</p> + +<p> +Something like this Jessie said to her mother when she went for a day to +Aikenside, asking her in conclusion if she thought Sarah would go. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps,” and Agnes brushed abstractedly her long, flowing hair, +winding it around her jeweled fingers, and then letting the soft curls fall +across her snowy arms. +</p> + +<p> +“Where do you suppose she is?” was Jessie’s next question, +but if Agnes knew, she did not answer, except by reminding her little daughter +that it was past her bedtime. +</p> + +<p> +The next morning Agnes’ eyes were very red, as if she had been wakeful +the entire night, while her white face fully warranted the headache she +professed to have. +</p> + +<p> +“Jessie,” she said, as they sat together at their breakfast, +“I am going to Honedale to-day, going to see Maddy, and shall leave you +here, as I do not care to have us both absent.” +</p> + +<p> +Jessie demurred a little at first, but finally yielded, wondering what had +prompted this visit to the cottage. Maddy wondered so, too, as from the window +she saw Agnes instead of Jessie alighting from the carriage, and was conscious +of a thrill of gratification that Agnes would have come to see her. But +Agnes’ business concerned the sick man, poor Uncle Joseph, who was +sleeping when she came, and so did not hear her voice as in the tidy kitchen +she talked to Maddy, appearing extremely agitated, and flashing her eyes +rapidly from one part of the room to another, resting now upon the tinware hung +upon the wall and now upon the gourd swimming in the water pail standing in the +old-fashioned sink, with the wooden spout, directly over the pile of stones +covering the drain. These things were familiar to the proud woman; she had seen +them before, and the sight of them now brought to her a most remorseful regret +for the past, while her heart ached cruelly as she wished she had never crossed +that threshold, or crossing it had never brought ruin to one of its inmates. +Agnes was not the same woman whom we first knew. All hope of the doctor had +long since been given up, and as Jessie grew older the mother nature was +stronger within her, subduing her selfishness, and making her far more gentle +and considerate for others than she had been before. To Maddy she was +exceedingly kind, and never more so in manner than now, when they sat talking +together in the humble kitchen at the cottage. +</p> + +<p> +“You look tired and sick,” she said. “Your cares have been +too much for one not yet strong. Let me sit by him till he wakes, and you go up +to bed.” +</p> + +<p> +Very gladly Maddy accepted the offered relief, and utterly worn out with her +constant vigils, she was soon sleeping soundly in her own room, while Flora, in +the little shed, or back room of the house, was busy with her ironing. Thus +there was none to follow Agnes as she went slowly into the sick-room where +Uncle Joseph lay, his thin face upturned to the light, and his lips +occasionally moving as he muttered in his sleep. There was a strange contrast +between that wasted imbecile and that proud, queenly woman, but she could +remember a time when the superiority was all upon his side, a time when in her +childish estimation he was the embodiment of every manly beauty, and the +knowledge that he loved her, his sister’s little hired girl, filled her +with pride and vanity. A great change had come to them both since those days, +and Agnes, watching him and smothering back the cry of pain which arose to her +lips at sight of him, felt that for the fearful change in him she was +answerable. Intellectual, talented, admired and sought by all he had been once; +he was a mere wreck now, and Agnes’ breath came in short, quick gasps, as +glancing furtively around to see that no one was near, she laid her hand upon +his forehead, and parting his thin hair, said, pityingly: “Poor +Joseph.” +</p> + +<p> +The touch awoke him, and starting up he stared wildly at her, while some memory +of the past seemed to be struggling through the misty clouds, obscuring his +mental vision. +</p> + +<p> +“Who are you, lady? Who, with eyes and hair like hers?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m the `madam’ from Aikenside,” Agnes said, quite +loudly, as Flora passed the door. Then when she was gone she added, softly: +“I’m Sarah. Don’t you know me? Sarah Agnes Morris.” +</p> + +<p> +It seemed for a moment to burst upon him in its full reality, and to her dying +day Agnes would never forget the look upon his face, the smile of perfect +happiness breaking through the rain of tears, the love, the tenderness mingled +with distrust, which that look betokened as he continued gazing at her, but +said to her not a word. Again her hand rested on his forehead, and taking it +now in his he held it to the light, laughing insanely at its soft whiteness; +then touching the costly diamonds which flashed upon him the rainbow hues, he +said: “Where’s that little bit of a ring I bought for you?” +</p> + +<p> +She had anticipated this, and took from her pocket a plain gold ring, kept +until that day where no one could find it, and holding it up to him, said: +“Here it is. Do you remember it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes,” and his lips began to quiver with a grieved, injured +expression. “He could give you diamonds, and I couldn’t. +That’s why you left me, wasn’t it, Sarah—why you wrote that +letter which made my head into two? It’s ached so ever since, and +I’ve missed you so much, Sarah! They put me in a cell where crazy people +were—oh! so many—and they said that I was mad, when I was only +wanting you. I’m not mad now, am I, darling?” +</p> + +<p> +His arm was around her neck, and he drew her down until his lips touched hers. +And Agnes suffered it. She could not return the kiss, but she did not turn away +from his, and she let him caress her hair, and wind it around his fingers, +whispering: “This is like Sarah’s, and you are Sarah, are you +not?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I am Sarah,” she would answer, while the smile so painful to +see would again break over his face as he told how much he had missed her, and +asked if she had not come to stay till he died. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s something wrong,” he said; “somebody dead, and +seems as if somebody else wanted to die—as if Maddy died ever since the +Lord Governor went away. Do you know Governor Guy?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am his stepmother,” Agnes replied, whereupon Uncle Joseph +laughed so long and loud that Maddy awoke, and, alarmed by the noise, came down +to see what was the matter. +</p> + +<p> +Agnes did not hear her, and as she reached the doorway, she started at the +strange position of the parties—Uncle Joseph still smoothing the curls +which drooped over him, and Agnes saying to him: “You heard his name was +Remington, did you not—James Remington?” +</p> + +<p> +Like a sudden revelation it came upon Maddy, and she turned to leave, when +Agnes, lifting her head, called her to come in. She did so, and standing upon +the opposite side of the bed, she said, questioningly: “You are Sarah +Morris?” +</p> + +<p> +For a moment the eyelids quivered, then the neck arched proudly, as if it were +a thing of which she was not ashamed, and Agnes answered: “Yes, I was +Sarah Agnes Morris; once for three months your grandmother’s hired girl, +and afterward adopted by a lady who gave me what education I possess, together +with that taste for high life which prompted me to jilt your Uncle Joseph when +a richer man than he offered himself to me.” +</p> + +<p> +That was all she said—all that Maddy ever knew of her history, as it was +never referred to again, except that evening, when Agnes said to her, +pleadingly: “Neither Guy nor Jessie, nor any one, need know what I have +told you.” +</p> + +<p> +“They shall not,” was Maddy’s reply; and from that moment the +past, so far as Agnes was concerned, was a sealed page to both. With this bond +of confidence between them, Agnes felt herself strangely drawn toward Maddy, +while, if it were possible, something of her olden love was renewed for the +helpless man who clung to her now instead of Maddy, refusing to let her go; +neither had Agnes any disposition to leave him. She should stay to the last, so +she said; and she did, taking Maddy’s place, and by her faithfulness and +care winning golden laurels in the opinion of the neighbors, who marveled at +first to see so gay a lady at Uncle Joseph’s bedside, attributing it all +to her friendship for Maddy, just as they attributed his calling her Sarah to a +crazy freak. She did resemble Sarah Morris a very little, they said; and in +Maddy’s presence they sometimes wondered where Sarah was, repeating +strange things which they had heard of her; but Maddy kept the secret from +every one, so that even Jessie never suspected why her mother stayed day after +day at the cottage; watching and waiting until the last day of Joseph’s +life. +</p> + +<p> +She was alone with him then, so that Maddy never knew what passed between them. +She had left them together for an hour, while she did some errands; and when +she returned, Agnes met her at the door, and with a blanched cheek whispered: +“He is dead; he died in my arms, blessing you and me; do you hear, +blessing me! Surely; my sin is now forgiven?” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap22"></a>CHAPTER XXII.<br/> +BEFORE THE BRIDAL.</h2> + +<p> +There was a fresh grave made in the churchyard, and another chair vacant at the +cottage, when Maddy was at last alone. Unfettered by care and anxiety for sick +ones, her aching heart was free to go out after the loved ones over the sea, go +to the elm-shaded mansion she had heard described so often, and where now two +brides were busy with their preparations for the bridal hurrying on so fast. +Since the letter read in the smoky, October woods, Maddy had not heard from Guy +directly, though Lucy had written since, a few brief lines, telling how happy +she was, how strong she was growing, and how much like himself Guy was +becoming. Maddy had been less than a woman if the last intelligence had failed +to affect her unpleasantly. She did not wish Guy to regret his decision; but to +be forgotten so soon after so strong protestations of affection, was a little +mortifying, and Maddy’s heart throbbed painfully as she read the letter, +half hoping it might prove the last she should receive from Lucy Atherstone. +Guy had left no orders for any changes to be made at Aikenside; but Agnes, who +was largely imbued with a love of bustle and repair, had insisted that at least +the suite of rooms intended for the bride should be thoroughly renovated with +new paper and paint, carpets and furniture. This plan Mrs. Noah opposed, for +she guessed how little Guy would care for the change; but Agnes was resolved, +and as she had great faith in Maddy’s taste, she insisted that she should +go to Aikenside, and pass her judgment upon the improvements. It would do her +good, she said—little dreaming how much it cost Maddy to comply with her +wishes, or how fearfully the poor, crushed heart ached, as Maddy went through +the handsome rooms fitted up for Guy’s young bride; but Mrs. Noah guessed +it all, pitying so much the white-faced girl, whose deep mourning robes told +the loss of dear ones by death; but gave no token of that great loss, tenfold +worse than death. +</p> + +<p> +“It was wicked in her to fetch you here,” she said to Maddy, one +day when in Lucy’s room she found her sitting upon the floor, with her +head bowed down upon the window sill. “But law, she’s a +triflin’ thing, and didn’t know ’twould kill you, poor child, +poor Maddy!” and Mrs. Noah laid her hand kindly on Maddy’s hair. +“Maybe you’d better go home,” she continued, as Maddy made no +reply; “it must be hard, to be here in the rooms, and among the things +which by good rights should be yours.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, Mrs. Noah,” and Maddy’s voice was strangely unnatural, +as she lifted up her head, revealing a face so haggard and white that Mrs. Noah +was frightened, and asked in much alarm if anything new had happened. +</p> + +<p> +“No, nothing; I was going to say that I’d rather stay a little +longer where there are signs and sounds of life. I should die to be alone at +Honedale to-morrow. I may die here, I don’t know. Do you know that +to-morrow will be the bridal?” +</p> + +<p> +Yes, Mrs. Noah knew it; but she hoped it might have escaped Maddy’s mind. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor child,” she said again, “poor child, I mistrust you did +wrong to tell him no!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Mrs. Noah, don’t tell me that; don’t make it harder for +me to bear. The tempter has been telling me so, all day, and my heart is so +hard and wicked, I cannot pray as I would. Oh, you don’t know how +wretched I am!” and Maddy hid her face in the broad, motherly lap, +sobbing so wildly that Mrs. Noah was greatly perplexed, how to act, or what to +say. +</p> + +<p> +Years ago, she would have spurned the thought that the grandchild of the old +man who had bowed to his own picture should be mistress of Aikenside; but she +had changed since then, and could she have had her way, she would have stopped +the marriage, and, bringing her boy home, have given him to the young girl +weeping so convulsively in her lap. But Mrs. Noah could not have her way. The +bridal guests were, even then, assembling in that home beyond the sea. She +could not call Guy back, and so she pitied and caressed the wretched Maddy, +saying to her at last: +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll tell you what is impressed on my mind; this Lucy’s got +the consumption, without any kind of doubt, and if you’ve no objections +to a widower, you may——” +</p> + +<p> +She did not finish the sentence, for Maddy started in horror. To her there was +something murderous in the very idea, and she thrust it quickly aside. Guy +Remington was not for her, she said, and her wish was to forget him. If she +could get through the dreaded to-morrow, she should do better. There had been a +load upon her the whole day, a nightmare she could not shake off, and she had +come to Lucy’s room, in the hope of leaving her burden there, of praying +her pain away. Would Mrs. Noah leave her a while, and see that no one came? +</p> + +<p> +The good woman could not refuse, and going out, she left Maddy by the window, +watching the sun as it went down, and then watching; the wintry twilight deepen +over the landscape, until all things were blended together in one great +darkness, and Jessie, seeking for her found her at last, fainting upon the +floor. +</p> + +<p> +Maddy was glad of the racking headache, which kept her in her bed the whole of +the next day, glad of any excuse to stay away from the family, +talking—all but Mrs. Noah—of Guy, and what was transpiring in +England. They had failed to remember the difference in the longitude of the two +places; but Maddy forgot nothing, and when the clock struck four, she called +Mrs. Noah to her and whispered, faintly: +</p> + +<p> +“They were to be married at eight in the evening. Allowing for possible +delays, it’s over before this and Guy is lost forever!” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Noah had no consolation to offer, and only pressed the hot, feverish +hands, while Maddy turned her face to the wall, and did not speak again, except +to whisper, incoherently, as she half slumbered, half woke: +</p> + +<p> +“Did Guy think of me when he promised to love her, and does he, can he, +see how miserable I am?” Maddy was indeed passing through deep waters, +and that night, the fourth of December, the longest, dreariest she ever knew, +could never be forgotten. Once past, the worst was over, and as the rarest +metal is purified by fire, so Maddy came from the dreadful ordeal strengthened +for what was before her. Both Agnes and Mrs. Noah noticed the strangely +beautiful expression of her face, when she came down to the breakfast-room, +while Jessie, as she kissed her pale cheek, whispered: +</p> + +<p> +“You look as if you had been with the angels.” +</p> + +<p> +Guy was not expected with his bride for two weeks, or more, and as the days +dragged on, Maddy felt that the waiting for him was more intolerable than the +seeing him with Lucy would be. Restless and impatient, she could not remain +quietly at the cottage—while at Aikenside, she longed to return again to +her own home, and in this way the time wore on, until the anniversary of that +day when she had come from New York, and found Guy waiting for her at the +station. To stay that day in the house so rife with memories of the dead was +impossible, and Flora was surprised and delighted to hear that both were going +up to Aikenside in the vehicle hired of Farmer Green, whose son officiated as +driver. It was nearly noon when they reached their destination, meeting at the +gate with Flora’s brother Tom, who said to them: +</p> + +<p> +“We’ve heard from Mr. Guy; the ship is in; they’ll be here +sure to-night, and Mrs. Noah is turnin’ things upside down with the +dinner.” +</p> + +<p> +Leaning back in the buggy, Maddy felt for a moment as if she were dying. Never +until then had she realized how, all the while, she had been clinging to an +indefinable hope, a presentiment that something might yet occur to spare her +from a long lifetime of pain, such as lay before her if Guy were really lost; +but the bubble had burst, leaving her nothing to hope, nothing to cling to, +nothing but black despair; and half bewildered, she received the noisy greeting +of Jessie, who met her at the door, and dragged her into the drawing-room, +decorated with flowers from the hothouse, told her to guess who was coming. +</p> + +<p> +“I know; Tom told me; Guy is coming with Lucy,” Maddy answered, and +relieving herself from Jessie, she turned to Agnes, asking where Mrs. Noah was, +and if she might go to her for a moment. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Maddy, child, I’m sorry you’ve come to-day,” Mrs. +Noah said, as she chafed Maddy’s cold hands, and leading her to the fire, +made her sit down, while she untied her hood, and removed her cloak and furs. +</p> + +<p> +“I did not know it, or I should have stayed away,” Maddy replied; +“I shall not stay, as it is. I cannot see them to-day. Charlie will drive +me back before the train is due; but what did he say? And how is Lucy?” +“He did not mention her. There’s the dispatch” and Mrs. Noah +handed to Maddy the telegram, received that morning, and which was simply as +follows: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“The steamer is here. Shall be at the station at five o’clock P. M. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +G<small>UY</small> R<small>EMINGTON</small>.” +</p> + +<p> +Twice Maddy read it over, experiencing much the same feeling she would have +experienced had it been her death warrant she was reading. +</p> + +<p> +“At five o’clock. I must go before that,” she said, sighing +as she remembered how, one year ago that day, she was traveling over the very +route where Guy was now traveling with his bride. Did he think of it? think of +his long waiting at the depot, or of that memorable ride, the events of which +grew more and more distinct in her memory, making her cheeks burn even now, as +she recalled his many acts of tenderness and care. +</p> + +<p> +Laying the telegram on the table, she went with Mrs. Noah through the rooms, +warmed and made ready for the bride, lingering longest in Lucy’s, which +the bridal decorations, and the bright fire blazing in the grate made +singularly inviting. As yet, there were no flowers there, and Maddy claimed the +privilege of arranging them for this room herself. Agnes had almost stripped +the conservatory; but Maddy found enough to form a most tasteful bouquet, which +she placed upon a marble dressing table; then within a slip of paper which she +folded across the top, she wrote: “Welcome to the bride.” +</p> + +<p> +“They both will recognize my handwriting; they’ll know I’ve +been here,” she thought, as with one long, last, sad look at the room, +she walked away. +</p> + +<p> +They were laying the table for dinner now, and with a kind of dizzy, uncertain +feeling, Maddy watched the servants hurrying to and fro, bringing out the +choicest china, and the glittering silver, in honor of the bride. +Comparatively, it was not long since a little, frightened, homesick girl, she +first sat down with Guy at that table, from which the proud Agnes would have +banished her; but it seemed to her an age, so much of happiness and pain had +come to her since then. There was a place for her there now, a place near Guy; +but she should not fill it. She could not stay; and she astonished Agnes and +Jessie, just as they were going to make their dinner toilet, by announcing her +intention of going home. She was not dressed to meet Mrs. Remington, she said, +shuddering as for the first time she pronounced a name which the servants had +frequently used, and which jarred on her ear, every time she heard it. She was +not dressed appropriately to meet an English lady. Flora of course would stay, +she said, as it was natural she should, to greet her new mistress; but she must +go, and finding Charlie Green she bade him bring around the buggy. +</p> + +<p> +Agnes was not particularly surprised, for a vague suspicion of something like +the truth had gradually been creeping into her brain, as she noted +Maddy’s pallid face, and the changes which passed over it whenever Guy +was mentioned. Agnes pitied Maddy, for in her own heart there was a little +burning spot, when she remembered who was to accompany Dr. Holbrook. So she did +not urge her to remain, and she tried to hush Jessie’s lamentations when +she heard Maddy was going. +</p> + +<p> +One long, sad, wistful look at Guy’s and Lucy’s home, and Maddy +followed Charlie to the buggy waiting for her, bidding him drive rapidly, as +there was every indication of a coming storm. +</p> + +<p> +The gray, wintry afternoon was drawing to a close, and the December night was +shutting down upon the Honedale hills in sleety rain, when the cottage was +reached, and Maddy, passing up the narrow, slippery walk, entered the cold, +dreary room, where there was neither fire nor light, nor friendly voice to +greet her. No sound save the ticking of the clock; no welcome save the purring +of the house cat, who came crawling at her feet as she knelt before the stove +and tried to kindle the fire. Charlie Green had offered to go in and do this +for her, as indeed he had offered to return and stay all night, but she had +declined, preferring to be alone, and with stiffened fingers she laid the +kindlings Flora had prepared, and then applying the match, watched the blue +flame as it gradually licked up the smoke and burst into a cheerful blaze. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall feel better when it’s warm,” she said, crouching +over the fire, and shivering with more than bodily cold. +</p> + +<p> +There was a kind of nameless terror stealing over her as she sat thinking of +the year ago when the inmates of three graves across the meadow were there +beneath that very roof where she now sat alone. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll strike a light,” she said, rising to her feet, and +trying not to glance at the shadowy corners filling her with fear. +</p> + +<p> +The lamp was found, and its friendly beams soon dispersed the darkness from the +corners and the fear from Maddy’s heart, but it could not drive from her +mind thoughts of what might at that moment be transpiring at Aikenside. If the +bride and groom came at all that night, she knew they must have been there for +an hour or more, and in fancy she saw the tired, but happy, Lucy, as up in her +pleasant room she made her toilet for dinner, with Guy standing by and looking +on. Just as he had a right to do. Did he smile approvingly upon his young wife? +Did his eye, when it rested on her, light up with the same expression she had +seen so often when it looked at her? Did he commend her taste and say his +little wife was beautiful, as he kissed her fair, white cheek, or was there a +cloud upon his handsome face, a shadow on his heart, heavy with thoughts of +her, and would he rather it were Maddy there in the bridal room? If so, his +burden was hard indeed, but not so hard as hers, and kneeling on the floor, +poor Maddy laid her head in the chair, and, ’mid piteous moans, asked +God, her Father, to help them both to bear—help her and Guy—making +the latter love as he ought the gentle girl who had left home and friends to +live with him in a far-distant land; asked, too, that she might tear from her +heart every sinful thought, loving Guy only as she might love the husband of +another. +</p> + +<p> +The prayer ended, Maddy still sat upon the floor, while over her pale face the +lamplight faintly flickered, showing the dark lines beneath her eyes and the +tear stains on her cheek. Without, the storm still was raging, and the wintry +rain, mingled with sleet and snow, beat piteously against the curtained +windows, while the wind howled mournfully as it shook the door and sweeping +past the cottage went screaming over the hill. But Maddy heard nothing of the +tumult. She had brought a pillow from the bedroom, and placing it upon the +chair, sat down again upon the floor and rested her head upon it. She did not +even know that her pet cat had crept up beside her, purring contentedly and +occasionally licking her hair, much less did she hear above the storm the swift +tread of horses’ feet as some one came dashing down the road, the rider +pausing an instant as he caught a glimpse of the cottage lamp and then hurrying +on to the public house beyond, where the hostler frowned moodily at being +called out to care for a stranger’s horse, the stranger meanwhile turning +back a foot to where the cottage lamp shone a beacon light through the inky +darkness. The stranger reached the little gate and, undoing the fastening, went +hurrying up the walk, his step upon the crackling snow catching Maddy’s +ear at last and making her wonder who could be coming there on such a night as +this. It was probably Charlie Green, she said, and with a feeling of impatience +at being intruded upon she arose to her feet just as the door turned upon its +hinges, letting in a powerful draught of wind, which extinguished the lamp and +left her in total darkness. +</p> + +<p> +But it did not matter. Maddy had caught a sound, a peculiar cough, which froze +the blood in her veins and made her quake with terror quite as much as if the +footsteps hurrying toward her had been the footsteps of the dead, instead of +belonging, as she knew they did, to Guy Remington—Guy, who, with garments +saturated with rain, felt for her in the darkness, found her where from +faintness she had crouched again beside the chair, drew her closely to him, in +a passionate, almost painful, hug, and said, oh! so tenderly, so lovingly: +</p> + +<p> +“Maddy, my darling, my own! We will never be parted again.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap23"></a>CHAPTER XXIII.<br/> +LUCY.</h2> + +<p> +Hours had gone by, and the clock hands pointed to twelve, ere Maddy compelled +herself to hear the story Guy had come to tell. She had thrust him from her at +first, speaking to him of Lucy, his wife, and Guy had answered her back: +“I have no wife—I never had one. Lucy is in heaven,” and that +was all Maddy knew until the great shock had spent itself in tears and sobs, +which became almost convulsions as she tried to realize the fact that Lucy +Atherstone was dead; that the bridal robe about which she had written, with +girlish frankness, proved to be her shroud, and that her head that night was +not pillowed on Guy’s arm, but was resting under English turf and beneath +an English sky. She could listen at last, but her breath came in panting gasps; +while Guy told her how, on the very morning of the bridal, Lucy had greeted him +with her usual bright smile, appearing and looking better than he had before +seen her look since he reached her mother’s home; how for an hour they +sat together alone in a little room sacred to her, because years before it was +there he confessed his love. +</p> + +<p> +Seated on a low ottoman, with her golden head lying on his lap, she had this +morning told him, in her artless way, how much she loved him, and how hard it +sometimes was to make her love for the creature second to her love for the +Creator; told him she was not faultless, and asked that when he found how +erring and weak she was, he would bear with her frailties as she would bear +with his; talked with him, too, of Maddy Clyde, confessing in a soft, low tone, +how once or twice a pang of jealousy had wrung her heart when she read his +praises of his pupil. But she had conquered that; she had prayed it all away, +and now, next to her own sister, she loved Maddy Clyde. Other words, too, were +spoken—words of guileless, pure affection, too sacred even for Guy to +breathe to Maddy; and then Lucy had left him, her hart-bounding step echoing +through the hall and up the winding stairs, down which she never came again +alive, for when Guy next looked upon her she was lying white as a water lily, +her neck and dress and golden hair stained with the pale red life current +oozing from her livid lips. A blood vessel had been suddenly ruptured, the +physician said, and for her, the fair, young bride, there was no hope. They +told her she must die, for the mother would have them tell her. Once, for a few +moments, there rested on her face a fearfully frightened look, such as a +harmless bird might wear when suddenly caught in a snare. But that soon passed +away as from beneath the closed eyelids the great tears came gushing, and the +stained lips whispered faintly: “God knows best what’s right. Poor +Guy!—break it gently to him.” +</p> + +<p> +At this point in the story Guy broke down entirely, sobbing as only strong men +can sob. +</p> + +<p> +“Maddy,” he said, “I felt like a heartless wretch—a +most consummate hypocrite—as, standing by Lucy’s side, I met the +fond, pitying glance of her blue eyes, and suffered her poor little hand to +part my hair as she tried to comfort me, even though every word she uttered was +shortening her life; tried to comfort me, the wretch who was there so +unwillingly, and who at this prospect of release hardly knew at first whether +he was more sorry than pleased. You may well start from me in horror, Maddy. I +was just the wretch I describe: but I overcame it, Maddy, and Heaven is my +witness that no thought of you intruded itself upon me afterward is I stood by +my dying Lucy—gentle, patient, loving to the last. I saw how good, how +sweet she was, and something of the old love, the boy love, came back to me, as +I held her in my arms, where she wished to be. I would have saved her if I +could; and when I called her ‘my darling Lucy,’ they were not idle +words. I kissed her many times for myself, and once, Maddy, for you. She told +me to. She whispered: ‘Kiss me, Guy, for Maddy Clyde. Tell her I’d +rather she should take my place than anybody else—rather my Guy should +call her wife—for I know she will not be jealous if you sometimes talked +of your dead Lucy, and I know she will help lead my boy to that blessed home +where sorrow never comes.’ That was the last she ever spoke, and when the +sun went down death had claimed my bride. She died in my arms, Maddy. I felt +the last fluttering of her pulse, the last beat of her heart. I laid her back +upon her pillows. I wiped the blood from her lips and from her golden curls. I +followed her to her early grave. I saw her buried from my sight, and then, +Maddy, I started home; thoughts of you and thoughts of Lucy blended equally +together until Aikenside was reached. I talked with Mrs. Noah; I heard all of +you there was to tell, and then I talked with Agnes, who was not greatly +surprised, and did not oppose my coming here tonight. I could not remain there, +knowing you were alone. In the bridal chamber I found your bouquet, with its +‘Welcome to the bride.’ Maddy, you must be that bride. Lucy +sanctioned it, and the doctor, too, for I told him all. His own wedding was, of +course, deferred, and he did not come home with me, but he said: ‘Tell +Maddy not to wait. Life is too short to waste any happiness. She has my +blessing.’ And, Maddy, it must be so. Aikenside needs a mistress; you are +all alone. You are mine—mine forever.” +</p> + +<p> +The storm had died away, and the moonbeams stealing through the window told +that morning was breaking, but neither Guy nor Maddy heeded the lapse of time. +Theirs was a sad kind of happiness as they talked together, and could Lucy have +listened to them she would have felt satisfied that she was not forgotten. One +long, bright curl, cut from her head by his own hand, was all there was left of +her to Guy, save the hallowed memories of her purity and +goodness—memories which would yet mold the proud, impulsive Guy into the +earnest, consistent Christian which Lucy in her life had desired that he should +be, and which Maddy rejoiced to see him. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap24"></a>CHAPTER XXIV.<br/> +FINALE.</h2> + +<p> +The close of a calm September afternoon, and the autumnal sunlight falls softly +upon Aikenside, where a gay party is now assembled. For four years Maddy Clyde +has been mistress there, and in looking back upon them she wonders how so much +happiness as she has known could be experienced in so short a time. Never but +once has the slightest ripple of sorrow shadowed her heart, and that was when +her noble husband, Guy, said to her, in a voice she knew was earnest and +determined that he could no longer remain deaf to his country’s +call—that where the battle storm was raging he was needed, and like a +second Sardanapalus he must not stay at home. Then for a brief season her +bright face was overcast, and her brown eyes dim with weeping. Giving him to +the war seemed like giving him up to death. But women can be as true heroes as +men. Indeed, it oftentimes costs more courage for a weak, confiding woman to +bid her loved ones leave her for the field of carnage than it costs them to +face the cannon’s mouth. Maddy found it so, but Christian patriotism +triumphed over all, and stifling her own grief, she sent him away with smiles, +and prayers, and cheering words of encouragement, turning herself for +consolation to the source from which she never sued for peace in vain. Save +that she missed her husband terribly, she was not lonely, for her beautiful +dark-eyed boy, whom they called Guy, Jr., kept her busy, while not very many +weeks afterward, Guy, Sr., sitting in his tent, read with moistened eyes of a +little golden-haired daughter, whom Maddy named Lucy Atherstone, and gazed upon +a curl of hair she inclosed to the soldier father, asking if it were not like +some other hair now moldering back to dust within an English churchyard. +“Maggie” said it was, Aunt Maggie, as Guy, Jr., called the wife of +Dr. Holbrook, who had come to Aikenside to stay, while her husband did his duty +as surgeon in the army. That little daughter is a year-old baby now, and in her +short white dress and coral bracelets she sits neglected on the nursery floor, +while mother and Jessie, Maggie and everybody hasten out into the yard to +welcome the returning soldier, Major Guy, whose arm is in a sling, and whose +face is very pale from the effects of wounds received at Gettysburg, where his +daring courage had well-nigh won for Maddy a widow’s heritage. For the +present the arm is disabled, and so he has been discharged, and comes back to +the home where warm words of welcome greet him, from the lowest servant up to +his darling wife, who can only look her joy as he folds her in his well arm, +and kisses her beautiful face. Only Margaret Holbrook seems a little sad, she +had so wanted her husband to come with Guy, but his humanity would not permit +him to leave the suffering beings who needed his care. Loving messages he sent +to her, and her tears were dried when she heard from Guy how greatly he was +beloved by the pale occupants of the beds of pain, and how much he was doing to +relieve their anguish. +</p> + +<p> +Jessie, grown to be a most beautiful girl of nearly sixteen, is still a child +in actions, and wild with delight at seeing her brother again, throws her arms +around his neck, telling, in almost the same breath, how proud she is of him, +how much she wished to go to him when she heard he was wounded, how she wishes +she was a boy, so she could enlist, how nicely Flora is married and settled +down at the cottage in Honedale, and then asks if he knows aught of the rebel +colonel to whom just before the war broke out her mother was married, and whose +home was in Richmond. +</p> + +<p> +Guy knows nothing of him, except that he is still doing what he deems his duty +in fighting for the Confederacy, but from exchanged prisoners, who had come up +from Richmond, he has heard of a beautiful lady, an officer’s wife, and +as rumor said, a Northern woman, who visited them in prison, speaking kind +words of sympathy, and once binding up a drummer boy’s aching head with a +handkerchief, which he still retained, and on whose corner could be faintly +traced the name of “Agnes Remington.” +</p> + +<p> +Jessie’s eyes are full of tears as she says: +</p> + +<p> +“Poor mamma, how glad I am I did not go to Virginia with her. It’s +months since I heard from her direct. Of course it was she who was so good to +the drummer boy. She cannot be much of a rebel,” and Jessie glances +triumphantly at Mrs. Noah, who, never having quite overcome her dislike of +Agnes, had sorely tried Jessie by declaring that her mother “had found +her level at last, and was just where she wanted to be.” +</p> + +<p> +Good Mrs. Noah, the ancient man whose name she bore would as soon have thought +of leaving the Ark as she of turning a traitor to her country, and when she +heard of the riotous mob raised against the draft, she talked seriously of +going in person to New York “to give ’em a piece of her +mind,” and for one whole day refused to speak to Flora’s husband, +because he was a “dum dimocrat,” and she presumed was opposed to +Lincoln. With the exception of Maddy, no one was more pleased to see Guy than +herself. He was her boy, the one she brought up, and with all a mother’s +fervor she kissed his bronzed cheek, and told him how glad she was to have him +back. +</p> + +<p> +With his boy on his sound arm, Guy disengaged himself from the noisy group and +went with Maddy to where the little lady, the child he had never seen, was just +beginning to show signs of resentment at being left so long alone. +</p> + +<p> +“Lulu, sissy, papa’s come; this is papa,” the little boy +cried, assuming the honor of the introduction. +</p> + +<p> +Lulu, as they called her, was not afraid of the tall soldier, and stretching +out her fat, white hands, went to him readily. Blue-eyed and golden haired, she +bore but little resemblance to either father or mother, but there was a sweet, +beautiful face, of which Maddy had often dreamed, but never seen, and whether +it were in the infantile features of his little girl. Parting lovingly her +yellow curls and kissing her fair cheek, he said to Maddy, softly, just as he +always spoke of that dead one: +</p> + +<p> +“Maddy, darling, Margaret Holbrook is right—our baby daughter is +very much like our dear lost Lucy Atherstone.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AIKENSIDE ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..161cb29 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #6954 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/6954) diff --git a/old/6954.txt b/old/6954.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3e0353a --- /dev/null +++ b/old/6954.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8095 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Aikenside, by Mary J. Holmes + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Aikenside + +Author: Mary J. Holmes + + +Release Date: November 2004 [EBook #6954] +This file was first posted on February 16, 2003 +Last Updated: June 16, 2013 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AIKENSIDE *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + + + +AIKENSIDE + +By Mary J. Holmes + + + +Author of "Maggie Miller," "Dora Drane," "English Orphans," "The +Homestead on the Hillside," "Meadowbrook Farm," "Lena Rivers," +"Rosamond," "Cousin Maude," "Tempest and Sunshine," "Rector of St. +Marks," "Mildred," "The Leighton Homestead," "Miss McDonald" + + + + + +CHAPTER I. -- THE EXAMINING COMMITTEE. + + +The good people of Devonshire were rather given to quarreling--sometimes +about the minister's wife, meek, gentle Mrs. Tiverton, whose manner of +housekeeping, and style of dress, did not exactly suit them; sometimes +about the minister himself, good, patient Mr. Tiverton, who vainly +imagined that if he preached three sermons a week, attended the +Wednesday evening prayer-meeting, the Thursday evening sewing society, +officiated at every funeral, visited all the sick, and gave to every +beggar who called at his door, besides superintending the Sunday school, +he was earning his salary of six hundred per year. + +Sometimes, and that not rarely, the quarrel crept into the choir, and +then, for one whole Sunday, it was all in vain that Mr. Tiverton read +the psalm and hymn, casting troubled glances toward the vacant seats of +his refractory singers. There was no one to respond, unless it were good +old Mr. Hodges, who pitched so high that few could follow him; while +Mrs. Captain Simpson--whose daughter, the organist, had been snubbed at +the last choir meeting by Mr. Hodges' daughter, the alto singer--rolled +up her eyes at her next neighbor, or fanned herself furiously in token +of her disgust. + +Latterly, however, there had come up a new cause of quarrel, before +which every other cause sank into insignificance. Now, though the +village of Devonshire could boast but one public schoolhouse, said house +being divided into two departments, the upper and lower divisions, there +were in the town several district schools; and for the last few years +a committee of three had been annually appointed to examine and decide +upon the merits of the various candidates for teaching, giving to each, +if the decision were favorable, a little slip of paper certifying their +qualifications to teach a common school. Strange that over such an +office so fierce a feud should have arisen; but when Mr. Tiverton, +Squire Lamb and Lawyer Whittemore, in the full conviction that they +were doing right, refused a certificate of scholarship to Laura Tisdale, +niece of Mrs. Judge Tisdale, and awarded it to one whose earnings in +a factory had procured for her a thorough English education, the +villagers, to use a vulgar phrase, were at once set by the ears, the +aristocracy abusing, and the democracy upholding the dismayed trio, who, +as the breeze blew harder, quietly resigned their office, and Devonshire +was without a school committee. + +In this emergency something must be done, and, as the two belligerent +parties could only unite on a stranger, it seemed a matter of special +providence that only two months before, young Dr. Holbrook, a native +of modern Athens, had rented the pleasant little office on the village +common, formerly occupied by old Dr. Carey, now lying in the graveyard +by the side of some whose days he had prolonged, and others whose days +he had surely shortened. Besides being handsome, and skillful, and quite +as familiar with the poor as the rich, the young doctor was descended +from the aristocratic line of Boston Holbrooks, facts which tended to +make him a favorite with both classes; and, greatly to his surprise, +he found himself unanimously elected to the responsible office of +sole Inspector of Common Schools in Devonshire. It was in vain that +he remonstrated, saying he knew nothing whatever of the qualifications +requisite for a teacher; that he could not talk to girls, young ones +especially; that he should make a miserable failure, and so forth. The +people would not listen. Somebody must examine the teachers and that +somebody might as well be Dr. Holbrook as anybody. + +"Only be strict with 'em, draw the reins tight, find out to your +satisfaction whether a gal knows her P's and Q's before you give her a +stifficut. We've had enough of your ignoramuses," said Colonel Lewis, +the democratic potentate to whom Dr. Holbrook was expressing his fears +that he should not give satisfaction. Then, as a bright idea suggested +itself to the old gentleman, he added: "I tell you what, just cut one +or two at first; that'll give you a name for being particular, which is +just the thing." + +Accordingly, with no definite idea as to what was expected of him, +except that he was to find out "whether a girl knew her P's and Q's," +and was also to "cut one or two of the first candidates," Dr. Holbrook +accepted the office, and then awaited rather nervously his initiation. +He was not easy in the society of ladies, unless, indeed, the lady stood +in need of his professional services, when he lost sight of _her_ at +once, and thought only of her disease. His patient once well, however, +he became nervously shy and embarrassed, retreating as soon as possible +from her presence to the covert of his friendly office, where, with +his boots upon the table and his head thrown back in a most comfortable +position, he sat one April morning, in happy oblivion of the bevy of +girls who must, of course, ere long-invade his sanctum. + +"Something for you, sir. The lady will wait for an answer," said his +"chore boy," passing to his master a little three-cornered note, and +nodding toward the street. + +Following the direction indicated, the doctor saw, drawn up near his +door, an old-fashioned one-horse wagon, such as is still occasionally +seen in New England. A square boxed, dark green wagon, drawn by a sorrel +horse, sometimes called by the genuine Yankee "yellow," and driven by a +white-haired man, whose silvery locks, falling around his wrinkled face, +gave to him a pleasing, patriarchal appearance, which interested the +doctor far more than did the flutter of the blue ribbon beside him, even +though the bonnet that ribbon tied shaded the face of a young girl. +The note was from her, and, tearing it open, the doctor read, in the +prettiest of all pretty, girlish handwriting: + +"Dr. Holbrook." + +Here it was plainly visible that a "D" had been written as if she would +have said "Dear." Then, evidently changing her mind, she had with her +finger blotted out the "D," and made it into an oddly shaped "S," so +that it read simply: + +"Dr. Holbrook--Sir: Will you be at leisure to examine me on Monday +afternoon, at three o'clock? + + "MADELINE A. CLYDE. + +"P. S.--For particular reasons I hope you can attend to me as early as +Monday. M. A. C." + +Dr. Holbrook knew very little of girls, but he thought this note, with +its P. S., decidedly girlish. Still he made no comment, either verbal or +mental, so flurried was he with knowing that the evil he so much dreaded +had come upon him at last. Had it been left to his choice, he would far +rather have extracted every one of that maiden's teeth, than to have set +himself up before her like some horrid ogre, asking what she knew. But +the choice was not his, and, turning to the boy, he said, laconically, +"Tell her to come." + +Most men would have sought for a glimpse of the face under the bonnet +tied with blue, but Dr. Holbrook did not care a picayune whether it were +ugly or fair, though it did strike him that the voice was singularly +sweet, which, after the boy had delivered his message, said to the old +man, "Now, grandpa, we'll go home. I know you must be tired." + +Slowly Sorrel trotted down the street, the blue ribbons fluttering in +the wind, while one little ungloved hand was seen carefully adjusting +about the old man's shoulders the ancient camlet cloak which had done +duty for many a year, and was needed on this chill April day. The doctor +saw all this, and the impression left upon his mind was, that Candidate +No. 1 was probably a nice-ish kind of a girl, and very good to her +grandfather. But what should he ask her, and how demean himself toward +her? Monday afternoon was frightfully near, he thought, as this was only +Saturday; and then, feeling that he must be ready, he brought out from +the trunk, where, since his arrival in Devonshire, they had bean quietly +lying, books enough to have frightened an older person than poor little +Madeline Clyde, riding slowly home with grandpa, and wishing so much +that she'd had a glimpse of Dr. Holbrook, so as to know what he was +like, and hoping he would give her a chance to repeat some of the many +pages of geography and "Parley's History," which she knew by heart. +How she would have trembled could she have seen the formidable volumes +heaped upon his table and waiting for her. There were French and Latin +grammars, "Hamilton's Metaphysics," "Olmstead's Philosophy," "Day's +Algebra," "Butler's Analogy," and many others, into which poor Madeline +had never so much as looked. Arranging them in a row, and half wishing +himself back again to the days when he had studied them, the doctor went +out to visit his patients, of which there were so many that Madeline +Clyde entirely escaped his mind, nor did she trouble him again until the +dreaded Monday came, and the hands of his watch pointed to two. + +"One hour more," he said to himself, just as the roll of wheels and a +cloud of dust announced the approach of something. + +Could it be Sorrel and the square-boxed wagon? Oh, no; far different +from grandfather Clyde's turnout was the stylish carriage and the +spirited bays dashing down the street, the colored driver reining them +suddenly, not before the office door, but just in front of the white +cottage in the same yard, the house where Dr. Holbrook boarded, and +where, if he ever married in Devonshire, he would most likely bring his +wife. + +"Guy Remington, the very chap of all others whom I'd rather see, and, +as I live, there's Agnes, with Jessie. Who knew she was in these parts?" +was the doctor's mental exclamation, as, running his fingers through +his hair and making a feint of pulling up the corners of his rather limp +collar, he hurried out to the carriage, from which a dashing looking +lady of thirty, or thereabouts, was alighting. + +"Why, Agnes, I beg your pardon, Mrs. Remington, when did you come?" he +asked, offering his hand to the lady, who, coquettishly shaking back +from her pretty, dollish face a profusion of light brown curls, gave +him the tips of her lavender kids, while she told him she had come to +Aikenside the Saturday before; and hearing, from Guy that the lady with +whom he boarded was an old friend of hers, she had driven over to call, +and brought Jessie with her. "Here, Jessie, speak to the doctor. He +was poor dear papa's friend," and a very proper sigh escaped Agnes +Remington's lips as she pushed a little curly-haired girl toward Dr. +Holbrook. + +The lady of the house had spied them by this time, and came running down +the walk to meet her rather distinguished visitor, wondering, it may be, +to what she was indebted for this call from one who, since her marriage +with the supposed wealthy Dr. Remington, had rather cut her former +acquaintances. Agnes was delighted to see her, and, as Guy declined +entering the cottage just then, the two friends disappeared within +the door, while the doctor and Guy repaired to the office, the latter +sitting down in the very chair intended for Madeline Clyde. This +reminded the doctor of his perplexity, and also brought the comforting +thought that Guy, who had never failed him yet, could surely offer +some suggestions. But he would not speak of her just now; he had other +matters to talk about, and so, jamming his penknife into a pine table +covered with similar jams, he said: "Agnes, it seems, has come to +Aikenside, notwithstanding she declared she never would, when she found +that the whole of the Remington property belonged to your mother, and +not your father." + +"Oh, yes. She got over her pique as soon as I settled a handsome little +income on Jessie, and, in fact, on her too, until she is foolish enough +to marry again, when it will cease, of course, as I do not feel it my +duty to support any man's wife, unless it be my own, or my father's," +was Guy Remington's reply; whereupon the penknife went again into the +table, and this time with so much force that the point was broken off; +but the doctor did not mind it, and with the jagged end continued to +make jagged marks, while he continued: "She'll hardly marry again, +though she may. She's young--not over twenty-six--- + +"Twenty-eight, if the family Bible does not lie; but she'd never forgive +me if she knew I told you that. So let it pass that she's twenty-six. +She certainly is not more than three years your senior, a mere nothing, +if you wish to make her Mrs. Holbrook;" and Guy's dark eyes scanned +curiously the doctor's face, as if seeking there for the secret of +his proud young stepmother's anxiety to visit plain Mrs. Conner that +afternoon. But the doctor only laughed merrily at the idea of his being +father to Guy, his college chum and long-tried friend. + +Agnes Remington--reclining languidly in Mrs. Conner's easy-chair, and +overwhelming her former friend with descriptions of the gay parties she +had attended in Boston, and the fine sights she saw in Europe, whither +her gray-haired husband had taken her for a wedding tour--would not have +felt particularly flattered, could she have seen that smile, or heard +how easily, from talking of her, Dr. Holbrook turned to another theme, +to Madeline Clyde, expected now almost every moment. There was a merry +laugh on Guy's part, as he listened to the doctor's story, and, when +it was finished, he said: "Why, I see nothing so very distasteful in +examining a pretty girl, and puzzling her, to see her blush. I half wish +I were in your place. I should enjoy the novelty of the thing." "Oh, +take it, then; take my place, Guy," the doctor exclaimed, eagerly. "She +does not know me from Adam. Here are books, all you will need. You went +to a district school once a week when you were staying in the country. +You surely have some idea, while I have not the slightest. Will you, +Guy?" he persisted more earnestly, as he heard wheels in the street, and +was sure old Sorrel had come again. + +Guy Remington liked anything savoring of a frolic, but in his mind there +were certain conscientious scruples touching the justice of the thing, +and so at first he demurred; while the doctor still insisted, until at +last he laughingly consented to commence the examination, provided the +doctor would sit by, and occasionally come to his aid. + +"You must write the certificate, of course," he said, "testifying that +she is qualified to teach." + +"Yes, certainly, Guy, if she is; but maybe she won't be, and my orders +are, to be strict--very strict." + +"How did she look?" Guy asked, and the doctor replied: "Saw nothing +but her bonnet. Came in a queer old go-giggle of a wagon, such as your +country farmers drive. Guess she won't be likely to stir up the bile +of either of us, particularly as I am bullet proof, and you have been +engaged for years. By the way, when do you cross the sea again for the +fair Lucy? Rumor says this summer." + +"Rumor is wrong, as usual, then," was Guy's reply, a soft light +stealing into his handsome eyes. Then, after a moment, he added: "Miss +Atherstone's health is far too delicate for her to incur the risks of a +climate like ours. If she were well acclimated, I should be glad, for it +is terribly lonely up at Aikenside." + +"And do you really think a wife would make it pleasanter?" Dr Holbrook +asked, the tone of his voice indicating a little doubt as to a man's +being happier for having a helpmate to share his joys and sorrows. + +But no such doubts dwelt in the mind of Guy Remington. Eminently fitted +for domestic happiness, he looked forward anxiously to the time when +sweet Lucy Atherstone, the fair English girl to whom he had become +engaged when, four years before, he visited Europe, should be strong +enough to bear transplanting to American soil. Twice since his +engagement he had visited her, finding her always lovely, gentle, and +yielding. Too yielding, it sometimes seemed to him, while occasionally +the thought had flashed upon him that she did not possess a very +remarkable depth of intellect. But he said to himself, he did not care; +he hated strong-minded women, and would far rather his wife should be a +little weak than masculine, like his Aunt Margaret, who sometimes wore +bloomers, and advocated women's rights. Yes, he greatly preferred Lucy +Atherstone, as she was, to a wife like the stately Margaret, or like +Agnes, his pretty stepmother, who only thought how she could best +attract attention; and as it had never occurred to him that there might +be a happy medium, that a woman need not be brainless to be feminine +and gentle, he was satisfied with his choice, as well he might be, for a +fairer, sweeter flower never bloomed than Lucy Atherstone, his affianced +bride. Guy loved to think of Lucy, and as the doctor's remarks brought +her to his mind, he went off into a reverie concerning her, becoming so +lost in thought that until the doctor's hand was laid upon his +shoulder by way of rousing him, he did not see that what his friend had +designated as a go-giggle was stopping in front of the office, and that +from it a young girl was alighting. + +Naturally very polite to females, Guy's first impulse was to go to her +assistance, but she did not need it, as was proven by the light spring +with which she reached the ground. The white-haired man was with her +again, but he evidently did not intend to stop, and a close observer +might have detected a shade of sadness and anxiety upon his face as +Madeline called cheerily out to him: "Good-by, grandpa. Don't fear for +me; I hope you have good luck;" then, as he drove away, she ran a step +after him and said; "Don't look so sorry, for if Mr. Remington won't let +you have the money, there's my pony, Beauty. I am willing to give him +up." + +"Never, Maddy. It's all the little fortin' you've got. I'll let the old +place go first;" and, chirruping to Sorrel, the old man drove on, while +Madeline walked, with a beating heart, to the office door, knocking +timidly. + +Glancing involuntarily at each other, the young men exchanged meaning +smiles, while the doctor whispered softly: "Verdant--that's sure. Wonder +if she'll knock at a church." + +As Guy sat nearest the door, it was he who held it ajar while Madeline +came in, her soft brown eyes glistening with something like a tear, and +her cheeks burning with excitement as she took the chair indicated by +Guy Remington, who unconsciously found himself master of ceremonies. + +Poor little Madeline! + + + + +CHAPTER II. -- MADELINE CLYDE. + + +Madge her schoolmates called her, because the name suited her, they +said; but Maddy they called her at home, and there was a world +of unutterable tenderness in the voices of the old couple, her +grandparents, when they said that name, while their dim eyes lighted up +with pride and joy when they rested upon the young girl who answered to +the name of Maddy. Their only daughter's only child, she had lived with +them since her mother's death, for her father was a sea captain, who +never returned from his last voyage to China, made two months before she +was born. Very lonely and desolate would the home of Grandfather Markham +have been without the presence of Madeline, but with her there, the old +red farmhouse seemed to the aged couple like a paradise. + +Forty years they had lived there, tilling the rather barren soil of the +rocky homestead, and, saving the sad night when they heard that Richard +Clyde was lost at sea, and the far sadder morning when their daughter +died, bitter sorrow had not come to them; and, truly thankful for the +blessings so long vouchsafed them, they had retired each night in peace +with God and man, and risen each morning to pray. But a change was +coming over them. In an evil hour Grandpa Markham had signed a note +for a neighbor and friend, who failed to pay, and so it all fell on Mr. +Markham, who, to meet the demand, mortgaged his homestead; the recreant +neighbor still insisting that long before the mortgage should be due, +he certainly would be able himself to meet it. This, however, he had not +done, and, after twice begging off a foreclosure, poor old Grandfather +Markham found himself at the mercy of a grasping, remorseless man, into +whose hands the mortgage had passed. It was vain to hope that Silas +Slocum would wait. The money must either be forthcoming, or the red +farmhouse be sold, with its few acres of land. Among his neighbors there +was not one who had the money to spare, even if they had been willing to +do so. And so he must look among strangers. + +"If I could only help," Madeline had said one evening when they sat +talking over their troubles; "but there's nothing I can do, unless I +apply for our school this summer. Mr. Green is committeeman; he likes +us, and I don't believe but what he'll let me have it. I mean to go and +see;" and, ere the old people had recovered from their astonishment, +Madeline had caught her bonnet and shawl, and was flying down the road. + +Madeline was a favorite with all, especially with Mr. Green, and as the +school would be small that summer, the plan struck him favorably. Her +age, however, was an objection, and he must take time to see what others +thought of a child like her becoming a schoolmistress. Others thought +well of it, and so before the close of the next day it was generally +known through Honedale, as the southern part of Devonshire was called, +that pretty little Madge Clyde had been engaged as teacher, she +receiving three dollars a week, with the understanding that she must +board herself. It did not take Madeline long to calculate that twelve +times three were thirty-six, more than a tenth of what her grandfather +must borrow. It seemed like a little fortune, and blithe as a singing +bird she flitted about the house, now stopping a moment to fondle her +pet kitten, while she whispered the good news in its very appreciative +ear, and then stroking her grandfather's silvery hair, as she said: + +"You can tell them that you are sure of paying thirty-six dollars in the +fall, and if I do well, maybe they'll hire me longer. I mean to try my +very best. I wonder if ever anybody before me taught a school when they +were only fourteen and a half. Do I look as young as that?" and for +an instant the bright; childish face scanned itself eagerly in the +old-fashioned mirror, with the figure of an eagle on the top. + +She did look very young, and yet there was something womanly, too, in +the expression of the face, something which said that life's realities +were already beginning to be understood by her. + +"If my hair were not short I should do better. What a pity I cut it the +last time; it would have been so long and splendid now," she continued, +giving a kind of contemptuous pull at the thick, beautiful brown hair on +whose glossy surface there was in certain lights a reddish tinge, which +added to its beauty. + +"Never mind the hair, Maddy," the old man said, gazing fondly at her +with a half sigh as he remembered another brown head, pillowed now +beneath the graveyard turf. "Maybe you won't pass muster, and then the +hair will make no difference. There's a new committee-man, that Dr. +Holbrook, from Boston, and new ones are apt to be mighty strict." + +Instantly Maddy's face flushed all over with nervous dread, as she +thought: "What if I should fail?" fancying that to do so would be an +eternal disgrace. But she should not. She was called by everybody +the very best scholar in school, the one whom the teachers always put +forward when desirous of showing off, the one whom Mr. Tiverton, and +Squire Lamb, and Lawyer Whittemore always noticed so much. Of course she +should not fail, though she did dread Dr. Holbrook, wondering much what +he would ask her first, and hoping it would be something in arithmetic, +provided he did not stumble upon decimals, where she was apt to get +bewildered. She had no fears of grammar. She could pick out the most +obscure sentence and dissect a double relative with perfect ease; then, +as to geography, she could repeat whole pages of that, while in the +spelling-book, the foundation of a thorough education, as she had been +taught, she had no superiors, and but a very few equals. Still she would +be very glad when it was over, and she appointed Monday, both because it +was close at hand, and because that was the day her grandfather had set +in which to ride to Aikenside, in an adjoining town, and ask its young +master for the loan of three hundred dollars. + +He could hardly tell why he had thought of applying to Guy Remington for +help, unless it were that he once had saved the life of Guy's father, +who, as long as he lived, had evinced a great regard for his benefactor, +frequently asserting that he meant to do something for him. But the +something was never done, the father was dead, and in his strait the old +man turned to the son, whom he knew to be very rich, and who he had been +told was exceedingly generous. + +"How I wish I could go with you clear up to Aikenside! They say it's +so beautiful," Madeline had said, as on Saturday evening they sat +discussing the expected events of the following Monday. "Mrs. Noah, the +housekeeper, had Sarah Jones there once, to sew, and she told me all +about it. There are graveled walks, and nice green lawns, and big, tall +trees, and flowers--oh! so many!--and marble fountains, with gold fishes +in the basin; and statues, big as folks, all over the yard, with two +brass lions on the gateposts. But the house is finest of all. There's +a drawing-room bigger than a ballroom, with carpets that let your feet +sink in so far; pictures and mirrors clear to the floor--think of that, +grandpa! a looking-glass so tall that one can see the very bottom of +their dress and know just how it hangs. Oh, I do so wish I could have a +peep at it! There are two in one room, and the windows are like doors, +with lace curtains; but what is queerest of all, the chairs and +sofas are covered with real silk, just like that funny, gored gown of +grandma's up in the oak chest. Dear me! I wonder if I'll ever live in +such a place as Aikenside?" + +"No, no, Maddy, no. Be satisfied with the lot where God has put you, and +don't be longing after something higher, Our Father in heaven knows just +what is best for us; as He didn't see fit to put you up at Aikenside, +'tain't noways likely you'll ever live in the like of it." + +"Not unless I should happen to marry a rich man. Poor girls like me have +sometimes done that, haven't they?" was Maddy's demure reply. + +Grandpa Markham shook his head. + +"They have, but it's mostly their ruination; so don't build castles in +the air about this Guy Remington." + +"Me! Oh, grandpa, I never dreamed of Mr. Guy!" and Madeline blushed +half indignantly. "He's too rich, too aristocratic, though Sarah said he +didn't act one bit proud, and was so pleasant, the servants all worship +him, and Mrs. Noah thinks him good enough for the Queen of England. I +shall think so, too, if he lets you have the money. How I wish it was +Monday night, so we could know sure!" + +"Perhaps we both shall be terribly disappointed," suggested grandpa, but +Maddy was more hopeful. + +She, at least, would not fail, while what she had heard of Guy +Remington, the heir of Aikenside, made her believe that he would accede +at once to her grandpa's request. + +All that night she was working to pay the debt, giving the money herself +into the hands of Guy Remington, whom she had never seen, but who came +up in her dreams the tall, handsome-looking man she had so often heard +described by Sarah Jones after her return from Aikenside. Even the next +day, when, by her grandparent's side, Maddy knelt reverently in the +small, time-worn church at Honedale, her thoughts, it must be confessed, +were wandering more to the to-morrow and Aikenside, than to the sacred +words her lips were uttering. She knew it was wrong, and with a nervous +start would try to bring her mind back from decimal fractions to what +the minister was saying; but Maddy was mortal, and right in the midst +of the Collect, Aikenside and its owner would rise before her, together +with the wonder how she and her grandfather would feel one week from +that Sabbath day. Would the desired certificate be hers? or would she +be disgraced forever and ever by a rejection? Would the mortgage be paid +and her grandfather at ease, or would his heart be breaking with the +knowing he must leave what had been his home for so many years? Not thus +was it with the aged disciple beside her--the good old man, whose white +locks swept the large lettered book over which his wrinkled face was +bent, as he joined in the responses, or said the prayers whose words had +over him so soothing an influence, carrying his thoughts upward to the +house not made with hands, which he felt assured would one day be his. +Once or twice, it is true, thoughts of losing the dear old red cottage +flitted across his mind with a keen, sudden pang, but he put it quickly +aside, remembering at the same instant how the Father he loved doeth all +things well to such as are His children. Grandpa Markham was old in the +Christian course, while Maddy could hardly be said to have commenced as +yet, and so to her that April Sunday was long and wearisome. How she did +wish she might just look over the geography, by way of refreshing her +memory, or see exactly how the rule for extracting the cube root did +read, but Maddy forebore, reading only the Pilgrim's Progress, the +Bible, and the book brought from the Sunday school. + +With the earliest dawn, however, she was up, and her grandmother heard +her repeating to herself much of what she dreaded Dr. Holbrook might +question her upon. Even when bending over the washtub, for there were no +servants at the red cottage, a book was arranged before her so that she +could study with her eyes, while her small, fat hands and dimpled arms +were busy in the suds. Before ten o'clock everything was done, the +clothes, white as the snowdrops in the garden beds, were swinging on the +line, the kitchen floor was scrubbed, the windows washed, the best room +swept, the vegetables cleaned for dinner, and then Maddy's work was +finished. "Grandma could do all the rest," she said, and Madeline was +free "to put her eyes out over them big books if she liked." + +Swiftly flew the hours until it was time to be getting ready, when +again the short hair was deplored, as before her looking-glass Madeline +brushed and arranged her shining, beautiful locks. Would Dr. Holbrook +think of her age? Suppose he should ask it. But no, he wouldn't. If Mr. +Green thought her old enough, surely it was not a matter with which +the doctor need trouble himself; and, somewhat at ease on that point, +Madeline donned her longest frock, and, standing in a chair, tried to +discover how much of her pantalets was visible. + +"I could see splendidly in Mr. Remington's mirrors," she said to +herself, with a half sigh of regret that her lot had not been cast in +some such place as Aikenside, instead of there beneath the hill in that +wee bit of a cottage, whose rear slanted back until it almost touched +the ground. "After all, I guess I'm happier here," she thought. +"Everybody likes me, while if I were Mr. Guy's sister and lived at +Aikenside, I might be proud and wicked, and--" + +She did not finish the sentence, but somehow the story of Dives and +Lazarus, read by her grandfather that morning, recurred to her mind, and +feeling how much rather she would rest in Abraham's bosom than share the +fate of him who once was clothed in purple and fine linen she pinned on +her little neat plaid shawl, and, tying the blue ribbons of her coarse +straw hat, glanced once more at the formidable cube root, and then +hurried down to where her grandfather and old Sorrel wore waiting for +her. + +"I shall be so happy when I come back, because it will then be over, +just like having a tooth out, you know," she said to her grandmother, +who bent down for the good-by kiss without which Maddy never left her. +"Now, grandpa, drive on; I was to be there at three," and chirruping +herself to Sorrel, the impatient Madge went riding from the cottage +door, chatting cheerily until the village of Devonshire was reached; +then, with a farewell to her grandfather, who never dreamed that the man +whom he was seeking was so near, she tripped up the flagging walk, and, +as we have seen, soon stood in the presence of not only Dr. Holbrook, +but also of Guy Remington. + +Poor, poor little Madge! + + + + +CHAPTER III. -- THE EXAMINATION. + + +It was Guy who received her, Guy who pointed to a chair, Guy who seemed +perfectly at home, and, naturally enough, she took him for Dr. Holbrook, +wondering who the other black-haired man could be, and if he meant to +stay in there all the while. It would be very dreadful if he did, and +in her agitation and excitement the cube root was in danger of being +altogether forgotten. Half guessing the cause of her uneasiness, and +feeling more averse than ever to taking part in the matter, the doctor, +after a hasty survey of her person, withdrew into the background, and +sat where he could not be seen. This brought the short dress into full +view, together with the dainty little foot, nervously beating the floor. + +"She's very young," he thought; "too young, by far," and Maddy's chances +of success were beginning to decline even before a word had been spoken. + +How terribly still it was for the time, during which telegraphic +communications were silently passing between Guy and the doctor, the +latter shaking his dead decidedly, while the former insisted that he +should do his duty. Madeline could almost hear the beatings of her +heart, and only by counting and recounting the poplar trees growing +across the street could she keep back the tears. What was he waiting +for, she wondered, and, at last, summoning all her courage, she lifted +her great brown eyes to Guy, and said, pleadingly: + +"Would you be so kind, sir, as to begin?" + +"Yes, certainly," and electrified by that young, bird-like voice, the +sweetest save one he had ever heard, Guy knocked down from the pile of +books the only one at all appropriate to the occasion, the others being +as far beyond what was taught in the district schools as his classical +education was beyond Madeline's common one. + +Remembering that the teacher of whom he had once been for a week a +pupil, in the town of Framingham, had commenced operations by sharpening +a lead pencil, so he now sharpened a similar one, determining as far as +he could to follow that teacher's example. Maddy counted every fragment +as it fell upon the floor, wishing so much that he would commence, and +fancying that it would not be half so bad to have him approach her with +some one of those terrible dental instruments lying before her, as it +was to sit and wait as she was waiting. Had Guy Remington reflected +a little, he would never have consented to do the doctor's work; but, +unaccustomed to country usages, especially those pertaining to schools +and teachers, he did not consider that it mattered which examined that +young girl, himself or Dr. Holbrook. Viewing it somewhat in the light +of a joke, he rather enjoyed it; and as the Framingham teacher had +first asked her pupils their names and ages, so he, when the pencil was +sharpened sufficiently, startled Madeline by asking her name. + +"Madeline Amelia Clyde," was the meek reply, which Guy quickly recorded. + +Now, Guy Remington intended no irreverence; indeed, he could not tell +what he did intend, or what it was which prompted his next query: + +"Who gave you this name?" + +Perhaps he fancied himself a boy again in the Sunday school, and +standing before the railing of the altar, where, with others of his age, +he had been asked the question propounded to Madeline Clyde, who did +not hear the doctor's smothered laugh as he retreated into the adjoining +room. + +In all her preconceived ideas of this examination, she had never dreamed +of being catechised, and with a feeling of terror as she thought of that +long answer to the question, "What is thy duty to thy neighbor?" and +doubted her ability to repeat it, she said: "My sponsors, in baptism +gave me the first name of Madeline Amelia, sir," adding, as she caught +and misconstrued the strange gleam in the dark eyes bent upon her, "I +am afraid I have forgotten some of the catechism; I did not know it was +necessary in order to teach school." + +"Certainly, no; I do not think it is. I beg your pardon," were Guy +Remington's ejaculatory replies, as he glanced from Madeline to the open +door of the adjoining room, where was visible a slate, on which, in huge +letters, the amused doctor had written "Blockhead." + +There was something in Madeline's quiet, womanly, earnest manner which +commanded Guy's respect, or he would have given vent to the laughter +which was choking him, and thrown off his disguise. But he could not +bear now to undeceive her, and, resolutely turning his back upon the +doctor, he sat down by that pile of books and commenced the examination +in earnest, asking first her age. + +"Going on fifteen," sounded older to Madeline than "Fourteen and a +half," so "Going on fifteen" was the reply, to which Guy responded: +"That is very young, Miss Clyde." + +"Yes, but Mr. Green did not mind. He's the committeeman. He knew how +young I was," Madeline said, eagerly, her great brown eyes growing large +with the look of fear which came so suddenly into them. + +Guy noticed the eyes then, and thought them very bright and handsome for +brown, but not so bright or handsome as a certain pair of soft blue orbs +he knew, and feeling a thrill of satisfaction that sweet Lucy Atherstone +was not obliged to sit there in that doctor's office to be questioned +by him or any other man, he said: "Of course, if your employers are +satisfied it is nothing to me, only I had associated teaching with women +much older than yourself. What is logic, Miss Clyde?" + +The abruptness with which he put the question startled Madeline to such +a degree that she could not positively tell whether she had ever heard +that word before, much less could she recall its meaning, and so she +answered frankly, "I don't know." + +A girl who did not know what logic was did not know much, in Guy's +estimation, but it would not do to stop here, and so he asked her next +how many cases there were in Latin! + +Maddy felt the hot blood tingling to her very fingertips, the +examination had taken a course so widely different from her ideas of +what it would probably be. She had never looked inside a Latin grammar, +and again her truthful "I don't know, sir," fell on Guy's ear, but this +time there was a half despairing tone in the young voice usually so +hopeful. + +"Perhaps, then, you can conjugate the verb _Amo,_" Guy said, his manner +indicating the doubt he was beginning to feel as to her qualifications. + +Maddy knew well what "conjugate" meant, but that verb _Amo_, what could +it mean? and had she ever heard it before? Mr. Remington was waiting +for her; she must say something, and with a gasp she began: "I amo, thou +amoest, he amoes. Plural: We amo, ye or you amo, they amo." + +Guy looked at her aghast for a single moment, and then a comical smile +broke all over his face, telling poor Maddy plainer than words could +have done, that she had made a most ridiculous mistake. + +"Oh, sir," she cried, her eyes wearing the look of the frightened hare, +"it is not right. I don't know what it means. Tell me, teach me. What is +it to amo?" + +To most men it would not have seemed a very disagreeable task, teaching +young Madeline Clyde "to amo," as she termed it, and some such idea +flitted across Guy's mind, as he thought how pretty and bright was the +eager face upturned to his, the pure white forehead, suffused with a +faint flush, the cheeks a crimson hue, and the pale lips parted slightly +as Maddy appealed to him for the definition of "amo." + +"It is a Latin verb, and means 'to love'" Guy said, with an emphasis +on the last word, which would have made Maddy blush had she been less +anxious and frightened. + +Thus far she had answered nothing correctly, and, feeling puzzled to +know how to proceed, Guy stepped into the adjoining room to consult with +the doctor, but he was gone. So returning again to Madeline, Guy resumed +the examination by asking her how "minus into minus could produce plus." + +Again Maddy was at fault, and her low-spoken "I don't know" sounded like +a wail of despair. Did she know anything, Guy wondered, and feeling +some curiosity now to ascertain that fact, he plied her with questions +philosophical, questions algebraical, and questions geometrical, until +in an agony of distress Maddy raised her hands deprecatingly, as if she +would ward off any similar questions, and sobbed out: + +"Oh, sir, no more. It makes my head so dizzy. They don't teach that in +common schools. Ask me something I do know." + +Suddenly it occurred to Guy that he had gone entirely wrong, and +mentally cursing himself for the blockhead the doctor had called him, he +asked, kindly: + +"What do they teach? Perhaps you can enlighten me?" + +"Geography, arithmetic, grammar, history, and spelling-book," Madeline +replied, untying and throwing off her bonnet, in the vain hope that it +might bring relief to her poor, giddy head, which throbbed so fearfully +that all her ideas seemed for the time to have left her. + +This was a natural consequence of the high excitement under which +she was laboring, and so, when Guy did ask her concerning the books +designated, she answered but little better than before, and Guy was +wondering what he should do next, when the doctor's welcome step was +heard, and leaving Madeline again, he repaired to the next room to +report his ill success. + +"She does not seem to know anything. The veriest child ought to do +better than she has done. Why, she has scarcely answered half a dozen +questions correctly." + +This was what poor Maddy heard, though it was spoken in a low whisper; +but every word was distinctly understood and burned into her heart's +core, drying her tears and hardening her into a block of marble. She +knew that Guy had not done her justice, and this helped to increase the +torpor stealing over her. Still she did not lose a syllable of what was +saying in the back office, and her lip curled scornfully when she heard +Guy remark: "I pity her; she is so young, and evidently takes it so +hard. Maybe she's as good as they average. Suppose we give her the +certificate." + +Then Dr. Holbrook spoke, but to poor, dazed Maddy his words were all a +riddle. It was nothing to him--who was he that he should be dictating +thus? There seemed to be a difference of opinion between the young +men, Guy insisting that out of pity she should not be rejected; and +the doctor demurring on the ground that he ought to be more strict. As +usual, Guy overruled, and seating himself at the table, the doctor was +just commencing: "I hereby certify--" while Guy was bending over him, +when the latter was startled by a hand laid firmly on his arm, and +turning quickly he confronted Madeline Clyde, who, with her short hair +pushed from her blue-veined forehead, her face as pale as ashes, save +where a round spot of purplish red burned upon her cheeks, and her eyes +gleaming like coals of fire, stood before him. + +"He need not write that," she said, huskily, pointing to the doctor, "It +would be a lie, and I could not take it. You do not think me qualified. +I heard you say so. I do not want to be pitied. I do not want a +certificate because I am so young, and you think I'll feel badly. I do +not want--" + +Her voice failed her, her bosom heaved, and the choking sobs came thick +and fast, but still she shed no tear, and in her bright, dry eyes there +was a look which made both those young men turn away involuntarily. Once +Guy tried to excuse her failure, saying she no doubt was frightened. +She would probably do better again, and might as well accept the +certificate, but Madeline still said no, so decidedly that further +remonstrance was useless. She would not take what she had no right to, +she said, but if they pleased she would wait there in the back office +until her grandfather came back; it would not be long, and she should +not trouble them. + +Guy brought her the easy-chair from the front room and placed it for +her by the window. With a faint smile she thanked him and said: "You are +very kind," but the smile hurt Guy cruelly, it was so sad, so full +of unintentional reproach, while the eyes she lifted to his looked so +grieved and weary that he insensibly murmured to himself: "Poor child!" +as he left her, and with the doctor repaired to the house, where Agnes +was impatiently waiting for them. Poor, poor little Madge! Let those +smile who may at her distress; it was the first keen disappointment she +had ever had, and it crushed her as completely as many an older person +has been crushed by heavier calamities. + +"Disgraced for ever and ever," she kept repeating to herself, as she +tried to shake off the horrid nightmare stealing over her. "How can I +hold up my head again at home where nobody will understand just how +it was; nobody but grandpa and grandma? Oh, grandpa, I can't earn that +thirty-six dollars now. I most wish I was dead, and I am--I am dying. +Somebody--come--quick!" + +There was a heavy fall, and while in Mrs. Conner's parlor Guy Remington +and Dr. Holbrook were chatting gayly with Agnes, a childish figure was +lying upon the office floor, white, stiff, and insensible. + +Little Jessie Remington, tired of sitting still and listening to what +her mamma and Mrs. Conner were saying, had strayed off into the garden, +and after filling her chubby hands with daffodils and early violets, +wended her way to the office, the door of which was partially ajar. +Peering curiously in, she saw the crumpled bonnet, with its ribbons of +blue, and, attracted by this, advanced into the room, until she came +where Madeline was lying. With a feeling that something was wrong, +Jessie bent over the prostrate girl, asking if she were asleep, and +lifting next the long, fringed lashes drooping on the colorless cheek. +The dull, dead expression of the eyes sent a chill through Jessie's +frame, and hurrying to the house she cried: "Oh, Brother Guy, somebody's +dead in the office, and her bonnet is all jammed!" + +Scarcely were the words uttered ere Guy and the doctor both were with +Madeline, the former holding her tenderly in his arms, while he smoothed +the short hair, thinking even then how soft and luxuriant it was, and +how fair was the face which never moved a muscle beneath his scrutiny. +The doctor was wholly self-possessed. Maddy had no terrors for him +now. She needed his services, and he rendered them willingly, applying +restoratives which soon brought back signs of life in the rigid form. +With a shiver and a moan Madeline whispered: "Oh, grandma, I'm so +tired," and nestled closer to the bosom where she had never dreamed of +lying. + +By this time both Mrs. Conner and Agnes had come out, asking in much +surprise who the stranger could be, and what was the cause of her +illness. As if there had been a previous understanding between them, +the doctor and Guy were silent with regard to the recent farce enacted +there, simply saying it was possible she was in the habit of fainting; +many people were. Very daintily, Agnes held up and back the skirt of her +rich silk as if fearful that it might come in contact with Madeline's +plain delaine; then, as it was not very interesting for her to stand and +see the doctor "make so much fuss over a young girl," as she mentally +expressed it, she returned to the house, bidding Jessie do the same. But +Jessie refused, choosing to stay by Madeline, whom they placed upon the +comfortable lounge, which she preferred to being taken to the house, as +Guy proposed. + +"I'm better now, much better," she said. "Leave me, please. I'd rather +be alone." + +So they left her, all but Jessie, who, fascinated by the sweet young +face, climbed upon the lounge and, laying her curly head caressingly +against Madeline's arm, said to her: "Poor girl, you're sick, and I am +so sorry. What makes you sick?" + +There was genuine sympathy in that little voice, and it opened the +pent-up flood beating so furiously, and roused Maddy's heart. With a cry +as of sudden pain she clasped the child in her arms and wept out a wild, +stormy fit of weeping which did her so much good. Forgetting that Jessie +could not understand, and feeling it a relief to tell her grief to some +one, she said, in reply to Jessie's oft repeated inquiries as to what +was the matter: "I did not get a certificate, and I wanted it so much, +for we are poor, and our house is mortgaged, and I was going to help +grandpa pay it." + +"It's dreadful to be poor!" sighed little Jessie, as her waxen fingers +threaded the soft, nut-brown hair resting in her lap, where Maddy had +lain her aching head. + +Maddy did not know who this beautiful child was, but her sympathy was +very sweet, and they talked together as children will, until Mrs. Agnes' +voice was heard calling to her little girl that it was time to go. + +"I love you, Maddy, and I mean to tell brother about it," Jessie said, +as she wound her arms around Madeline's neck and kissed her at parting. + +It never occurred to Maddy to ask her name, so stupified she felt, and +with a responsive kiss she sent her away. Leaning her head upon the +table, she forgot all but her own wretchedness, and so did not see the +gayly-dressed, haughty-looking lady who swept past the door, accompanied +by Guy and Dr. Holbrook. Neither did she hear, or notice, if she did, +the hum of their voices as they talked together for a moment, Agnes +asking the doctor very prettily to come up to Aikenside while she +was there, and bring his ladylove. Engaged young men like Guy were so +stupid, she said, as with a merry laugh she sprang into the carriage; +and, bowing gracefully to the doctor, was driven rapidly toward +Aikenside. + +Rather slowly the doctor returned to the office, and after fidgeting for +a time among the powders and phials, summoned courage to ask Madeline +how she felt, and if any of the fainting symptoms had returned. + +"No, sir," was all the reply she gave him, never lifting up her head, or +even thinking which of the two young men it was speaking to her. + +There was a call just then for Dr. Holbrook, and leaving his office +in charge of Tom, his chore boy, he went away, feeling slightly +uncomfortable whenever he thought of the girl to whom he felt that +justice had not been done. + +"I half wish I had examined her myself," he said. "Of course she was +excited, and could not answer; beside, hanged if I don't believe it was +all humbug tormenting her with Greek and Latin. Yes; I'll question her +when I get back, and if she'll possibly pass, give her the certificate. +Poor child; how white she was, and what a queer look there was in those +great eyes, when she said: 'I shall not take it.'" + +Never in his life before had Dr. Holbrook been as much interested in any +female who was not sick as he was in Madeline, and determining to make +his call on Mrs. Briggs as brief as possible, he alighted at her gate, +and knocked impatiently at her door. He found her pretty sick, while +both her children needed a prescription, and so long a time was he +detained that his heart misgave him on his homeward route, lest Maddy +should be gone, and with her the chance to remedy the wrong he might +have done her. + +Maddy was gone, and the wheel ruts of the square-boxed wagon were fresh +before the door when he came back. Grandpa Markham had returned, and +Madeline, who recognized old Sorrel's step, had gathered her shawl +around her and gone sadly out to meet him. One look at her face was +sufficient. + +"You failed, Maddy?" the old man said, fixing about her feet the warm +buffalo robe, for the night wind was blowing cool. + +"Yes, grandpa, I failed." + +They were out of the village and more than a mile on their way home +before Madeline found voice to say so much, and they were nearer home by +half a mile ere the old man answered back: + +"And, Maddy, I failed too." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. -- GRANDPA MARKHAM. + + +Mrs. Noah, the housekeeper at Aikenside, was slicing vegetable oysters +for the nice little dish intended for her own supper, when the head +of Sorrel came around the corner of the building, followed by the +square-boxed wagon containing Grandpa Markham, who, bewildered by the +beauty and spaciousness of the grounds, and wholly uncertain as to where +he ought to stop, had driven over the smooth-graveled road around to +the front kitchen door, Mrs. Noah's spacious domain, as sacred as Betsey +Trotwood's patch of green. + +"In the name of wonder, what codger is that? and what is he doing here?" +was Mrs. Noah's exclamation, as she dropped the bit of salsify she was +scraping, and hurrying to the door, called out: "I say, you, sir, what +made you drive up here, when I've said over and over again, that I +wouldn't have wheels tearing up turf and gravel?" + +"I--I beg your pardon. I lost my way, I guess, there was so many +turnin's, I'm sorry, but a little rain will fetch it right," grandpa +said, glancing ruefully at the ruts in the gravel and the marks on the +turf. + +Mrs. Noah was not at heart an unkind woman, and something in the +benignant expression of grandpa's face, or in the apologetic tone of +his voice, mollified her somewhat, and without further comment she stood +waiting for his next remark. It was a most unfortunate one, for though +as free from weakness as most of her sex, Mrs. Noah was terribly +sensitive as to her age, and the same census-taker would never venture +twice within her precincts. Glancing at her dress, which was this +leisure afternoon much smarter than usual, grandpa concluded she could +not be a servant; and as she seemed to have a right to say where he +should drive and where he should not, the meek old man concluded she was +a near relation of Guy--mother, perhaps; but no, Guy's mother was dead, +as grandpa well knew, for all Devonshire had heard of the young bride +Agnes, who had married Guy's father for money and rank. To have +been mistaken for Guy's mother would not have offended Mrs. Noah +particularly; but how was she shocked when Grandpa Markham said: + +"I come on business with Squire Guy. Are you his gran'marm?" "His +gran'marm!" and Mrs. Noah bit off the last syllable spitefully. "Bless +you, man, Squire Guy, as you call him, is twenty-five years old." + +As Grandpa Markham was rather blind, he failed to see the point, but +knew that in some way he had given offense. + +"I beg your pardon, ma'am; I was sure you was some kin--maybe an a'nt." + +No, she was not even that; but willing enough to let the old man believe +her a lady of the Remington order, she did not explain that she was +simply the housekeeper, she simply said: + +"If it's Mr. Guy you want, I can tell you he is not at home, which will +save your getting out." + +"Not at home, and I've come so far to see him!" grandpa exclaimed, and +in his voice there was so much genuine disappointment that Mrs. Noah +rejoined, quite kindly: + +"He's gone over to Devonshire with the young lady his stepmother. +Perhaps you might tell your business to me; I know all Mr. Guy's +affairs." + +"If I might come in, ma'am," he answered, meekly, as through the open +door he caught glimpses of a cheerful fire. "It's mighty chilly for such +as me." He did look cold and blue, Mrs. Noah thought, and she bade him +come in, feeling a very little contempt for the old-fashioned camlet +cloak in which his feet became entangled, and smiling inwardly at the +shrunken, faded pantaloons, betokening poverty. + +"As you know all Squire Guy's affairs," grandpa said, when he was seated +before the fire, "maybe you could tell whether he would be likely to +lend a stranger three hundred dollars, and that stranger me?" + +Mrs. Noah stared at him aghast. Was he crazy, or did he mean to insult +her master? Evidently neither. He seemed as sane as herself, while no +one could associate an insult with him. He did not know anything. That +was the solution of his audacity, and pityingly, as she would have +addressed a half idiot, Mrs. Noah made him understand how impossible it +was for him to think her master would lend to a stranger like him. + +"You say he's gone to Devonshire," grandpa said, softly, with a quiver +on his lip when she had finished. "I wish I'd knew it; I left my +granddarter there to be examined. Mabby I'll meet him going back, and +can ask him." + +"I tell you it won't be no use. Mr. Guy has no three hundred dollars to +throw away," was Mrs. Noah's rather sharp rejoinder. + +"Wall, wall, we won't quarrel about it," the old man replied, in +his most conciliatory manner, as he turned his head away to hide the +starting tear. + +Grandfather Markham's heart was very sore, and Mrs. Noah's harshness +troubled him. He could not bear to think that she really was cross +with him, besides that he wanted something to carry Maddy besides +disappointment, so by way of testing Mrs. Noah's amiability and pleasing +Maddy, too, he said, as he arose: "I'm an old man, lady, old enough to +be your father." Here Mrs. Noah's face grew brighter, and she listened +attentively while he continued: "You won't take what I say amiss, I'm +sure. I have a little girl at home, a grandchild, who has heard big +stories of the fine things at Aikenside. She has a hankerin' after such +vanities, and it would please her mightily to have me tell her what I +saw up here, so maybe you wouldn't mind lettin' me go into that big room +where the silk fixin's are. I'll take off my shoes, if you say so." + +"Your shoes won't hurt an atom; come right along," Mrs. Noah replied, +now in the best of moods, for, except her cup of green tea with +raspberry jam and cream, she enjoyed nothing more than showing their +handsome house. + +Conducting him through the wide, marbled hall, she ushered him into the +drawing-room, where for a time he stood perfectly bewildered. It was his +first introduction to rosewood, velvet, and brocatelle, and it seemed to +him as if he had suddenly been transported to fairy-land. + +"Maddy would like this--it's her nature," he whispered, advancing a step +or two, and setting down his feet as softly as if stepping on eggs. + +Happening to lift his eyes before one of the long mirrors, he spied +himself, wondering much what that "queer-looking chap" was doing there +in the midst of so much elegance, and why Mrs. Noah did not turn him +out! Then mentally asking forgiveness for this flash of pride, and +determined to make amends, he bowed low to the figure in the glass, +which bowed as low in return, but did not reply to the very good-natured +remark: "How d'ye do--pretty well, to-day?" + +There was a familiar look about the round cape of the camlet cloak, and +Grandpa Markham's face turned crimson as the truth burst upon him. + +"How 'shamed of me Maddy would be," he thought, glancing sidewise at +Mrs. Noah, who had witnessed the blunder, and was now looking from the +window to hide her laughter. + +Grandpa believed she did not see him, and comforted with that assurance, +he began to remark upon the mirror, saying "it made it appear as if +there was two of you," a remark which Mrs. Noah fully appreciated. He +saw the silk chairs, slyly touching one to see if it did feel like the +gored, peach-blossom dress worn by his wife forty-two years ago that +very spring. Then he tried one of them, examined the rare ornaments, and +came near bowing again to the portrait of the first Mrs. Remington, so +natural and lifelike it looked standing out from the canvas. + +"This will last Maddy a week. I thank you, ma'am. You have added some +considerable to the happiness of a young girl, who wouldn't disgrace +even such a room as this," he said, as he passed into the hall. + +Mrs. Noah received his thanks graciously, and led him to the yard, where +Sorrel stood waiting for him. + +"Odd, but clever as the day is long," was Mrs. Noah's comment, as, after +seeing him safe out of her yard, she went back to her vegetable oysters +boiling on the stove. + +Driving at a brisk trot through the grounds, Sorrel was soon out upon +the highway; and with spirits exhilarated by thoughts of going home, +he kept up the trot until, turning a sudden corner, his master saw the +carriage from Aikenside approaching at a rapid rate. The driver, Paul, +saw him too, but scorning to give half the road to such as Sorrel and +the square-boxed wagons, he kept steadily on, while Grandpa Markham, +determined to speak with Guy, reined his horse a little nearer, raising +his hand in token that the negro should stop. As a natural consequence, +the wheels of the two vehicles became interlocked, and as the powerful +grays were more than a match for Sorrel, the front wheel of Grandpa +Markham's wagon was wrenched off, and the old man precipitated to the +ground; which, fortunately for him, was in that locality covered with +sand banks, so that he was only stunned for an instant, and thus failed +to hear the insolent negro's remark: "Served you right, old cove; might +of turned out for gentlemen;" neither did he see the sudden flashing +of Guy Remington's eye, as, leaping from his carriage, he seized +the astonished African by the collar, and, hurling him from the box, +demanded what he meant by serving an old man so shameful a trick and +then insulting him. + +All apology and regret, the cringing driver tried to make some excuse, +but Guy stopped him short, telling him to see how much the wagon was +damaged, while he ran to the old man, who had recovered from the first +shock and was trying to extricate himself from the folds of his camlet +cloak. Nearby was a blacksmith's shop, and thither Guy ordered his +driver to take the broken-down wagon with a view to getting it repaired. + +"Tell him I want it done at once." he said, authoritatively, as if he +well knew his name carried weight with it; then, turning to grandpa, he +asked again if he were hurt. + +"No, not specially--jolted my old bones some. You are very kind, +sir," grandpa replied, brushing the dust from his pantaloons and then +involuntarily grasping Guy's arm for support, as his weak knees began to +tremble from the effects of excitement and fright. + +"That darky shall rue this job," Guy said, savagely, as he gazed +pityingly upon the shaky old creature beside him. "I'll discharge him +to-morrow." + +"No, young man. Don't be rash. He'll never do't again; and sprigs like +him think they've a right to make fun of old codgers like me," was +grandpa's meek expostulation. + +"Do, pray, Guy, how long must we wait here?" Agnes asked, impatiently, +leaning back in the carriage and partially drawing her veil over her +face as she glanced at Grandpa Markham, but a look from Guy silenced +her; and turning again to grandpa, he asked: + +"What did you say? You have been to Aikenside to see me?" + +"Yes, and I was sorry to miss you. I--I--it makes me feel awkward to +tell you, but I wanted to borrow some money, and I didn't know nobody +as likely to have it as you. That woman up to your house said she knowed +you wouldn't let me have it, 'cause you hadn't it to spare. Mebby you +haven't," and grandpa waited anxiously for Guy's reply. + +Now, Mrs. Noah had a singular influence over her young master, who was +in the habit of consulting her with regard to his affairs, and nothing +could have been more unpropitious to the success of grandpa's suit than +the knowing she disapproved. Beside this, Guy had only the previous week +lost a small amount loaned under similar circumstances. Standing silent +for a moment, while he buried and reburied his shining patent leather +boots in the hills of sand, he said at last: "Candidly, sir, I don't +believe I can accommodate you. I am about to make repairs at Aikenside, +and have partially promised to loan money on good security to a Mr. +Silas Slocum, who, 'if things work right,' as he expressed it, intends +building a mill on some property which has come, or is coming, into his +hands." + +"That's mine--that's mine, my homestead," gasped grandpa, turning white +almost as his hair blowing in the April wind. "There's a stream of water +on it, and he says if he forecloses and gets it he shall build a mill, +and tear our old house down." + +Guy was in a dilemma. He had not asked how much Mr. Markham wanted, and +as the latter had not told him, he naturally concluded it a much larger +sum than it really was, and did not care just then to lend it. + +"I tell you what I'll do," he said, after a little. "I'll drop Slocum +a note to-night saying I've changed my mind, and shall not let him have +the money. Perhaps, then, he won't be so anxious to foreclose, and will +give you time to look among your friends." + +Guy laid a little emphasis on that last word, and looking up quickly +grandpa was about to say: "I am not so much a stranger as you think. I +knew your father well;" but he checked himself with the thought: "No, +that will be too much like begging pay for a deed of mercy done years +ago." So Guy never suspected that the old man before him had once laid +his sire under a debt of gratitude. The more he reflected the less +inclined he was to lend the money, and as grandpa was too timid to urge +his needs, the result was that when at last the wheel was replaced, and +Sorrel again trotting on toward Devonshire, he drew after him a sad, +heavy heart, and not once until the village was reached did he hear the +cheery chuckle with which his kind master was wont to encourage him. + +"Poor Maddy! I dread tellin' her the most, she was so sure," grandpa +whispered, as he stopped before the office door, where Maddy waited for +him. + +But Maddy's disappointment was keener than his own, and so after the +sorrowful words, "and I failed, too," he bent himself to comfort the +poor child, who, leaning her throbbing head against his shoulder, sobbed +bitterly, as in the soft spring twilight they drove back to the low red +cottage where grandma waited for them. + + + + +CHAPTER V. -- THE RESULT. + + +It was Farmer Green's new buggy and Farmer Green's bay colt which, three +days later than this, stopped before Dr. Holbrook's office. Not the +square-boxed wagon, with old Sorrel attached; the former was standing +quietly in the chip-yard behind the low red house, while the latter with +his nose over the barnyard fence, neighing occasionally, as if he missed +the little hands which had daily fed him the oatmeal he liked so +much, and which now lay hot and parched and helpless upon the white +counterpane Grandma Markham had spun and woven herself. Maddy might have +been just as sick as she was if the examination had never occurred, but +it was natural for those who loved her to impute it all to the effects +of excitement and cruel disappointment, so there was something like +indignation mingling with the sorrow gnawing at the hearts of the old +couple as they watched by their fever-stricken darling. Farmer +Green, too, shared the feeling, and numerous at first were his mental +animadversions against that "prig of a Holbrook." But when Maddy grew +so bad as not to know him or his wife, he laid aside his prejudices, and +suggested to Grandpa Markham that Dr. Holbrook be sent for. + +"He's great on fevers," he said, "and is good on curin' sick folks," so, +though he would have preferred some one else should have been called, +confidence in the young doctor's skill won the day, and grandpa +consented. + +This, then, was the errand of Farmer Green, and with his usual +bluntness, he said to the recreant doctor, who chanced to be at home: + +"Wall, you nigh about killed our little Madge t'other day, when you +refused the stifficut, and now we want you to cure her." + +The doctor looked up in surprise, but Farmer Green soon explained his +meaning, making out a most aggravated case, and representing Maddy as +wild with delirium. + +"Keeps talkin' about the big books, the Latin and the Hebrew, and even +the Catechism, as if such like was 'lowed in our school. I s'pose you +didn't know no better; but if Maddy dies, you'll have it to answer for, +I reckon." + +The doctor did not try to excuse himself, but hastily took down the +medicines he thought he might need, and stowed them carefully away. He +had expected to hear from that examination, but not in this way, and +rather nervously he made some inquiries, as to how long she had been +ill, and so forth. + +Maddy's case lost nothing by Mr. Green's account, and by the time the +doctor's horse was ready, and he on his way to the cottage, he had +arrived at the conclusion that of all the villainous men outside +the walls of the State's prison, he was the most villainous, and Guy +Remington next. + +What a cozy little chamber it was where Maddy lay, just such a room as a +girl like her might be supposed to occupy, and the bachelor doctor felt +like treading upon forbidden ground as he entered the room so rife with +girlish habits, from the fairy slippers hung on a peg, to the fanciful +little workbox made of cones and acorns. Maddy was asleep, and sitting +down beside her, he asked that the shawl which had been pinned across +the window might be removed so that he could see her, and thus judge +better of her condition. They took the shawl away, and the sunlight came +streaming in, disclosing to the doctor's view the face never before seen +distinctly, or thought about, if seen. It was ghastly pale, save where +the hot blood seemed bursting through the cheeks, while the beautiful +brown hair was brushed back from the brow where the veins were swollen +and full. The lips were slightly apart, and the hot breath came in +quick, panting gasps, while occasionally a faint moan escaped them, and +once the doctor heard, or thought he heard, the sound of his own name. +One little dimpled hand lay upon the bedspread, but the doctor did not +touch it. Ordinarily he would have grasped it as readily as if it had +been a piece of marble, but the sight of Maddy, lying there so sick, and +the fearing he had helped to bring her where she was, awoke to life +a curious state of feeling with regard to her, making him almost as +nervous as on the day when she appeared before him as candidate No. 1. + +"Feel her pulse, doctor; they are faster most than you can count," +Grandma Markham whispered; and thus entreated, the doctor took the soft +hand in his own, its touch sending through his frame a thrill such as +the touch of no other hand had ever sent. + +Somehow the act reassured him. All fear of Maddy vanished, leaving +behind only an intense desire to help, if possible, the young girl whose +fingers seemed to cling around his own as he felt for and found the +rapid pulse. + +"If she could awaken," he said, laying the hand softly down and placing +his other upon her forehead, where the great sweat drops lay. + +And, after a time, Maddy did awaken, but in the eyes fixed, for a +moment, so intently on him, there was no look of recognition, and the +doctor was half glad that it was so. He did not wish her to associate +him with her late disastrous disappointment; he would rather she should +think of him as some one come to cure her, for cure her he would, he +said to himself, as he gazed into her childish face and thought how sad +it was for such as she to die. When first he entered the cottage he had +been struck with the extreme plainness of the furniture, betokening +that wealth had not there an abiding place, but now he forgot everything +except the sick girl, who grew more and more restless, talking of him +and the Latin verb which meant "to love," she said, and which was not in +the grammar. + +"Guy was a fool and I was a brute," the doctor muttered, as he folded +up the bits of paper whose contents he hoped might do much toward saving +Maddy's life. + +Then, promising to come again, he rode rapidly away, to visit other +patients, who, that afternoon, were in danger of being sadly neglected, +so constantly was their young physician's mind dwelling upon the little, +low-walled chamber where Maddy Clyde was lying. As night closed in she +knew them all, and heard that Dr. Holbrook had been there prescribing +for her. Turning her face to the wall, she seemed to be thinking; then, +calling her grandmother to her, she whispered: "Did he smooth my hair +back and say, 'poor child?'" + +Her grandmother hardly thought he did, though she was not in the room +all the time, she said. "He had stayed a long while and was greatly +interested." + +Maddy had a vague remembrance of such an incident, and in her heart +forgave the doctor for his rejection, thinking only how handsome he had +looked, even while tormenting her with such unheard of questions, and +how kind he was to her now. The sight of her grandfather awakened a new +train of ideas, and bidding him to sit beside her, she asked if their +home must be sold. Maddy was not to be put off with an evasion, and so +grandpa told her honestly at last that Slocum would foreclose, but not +while she was sick; he had been seen that day by Mr. Green, and had +promised so much forbearance. + +This was the last rational conversation held with Maddy for many a week, +and when next morning the doctor came, there was a look of deep anxiety +upon his face as he watched the alarming symptoms of his delirious +patient, who talked incessantly, not of the examination now, but of the +mortgage and the foreclosure, begging the doctor to see that the +house was not sold, to tell them she was earning thirty-six dollars by +teaching school, that Beauty should be sold to save their dear old home. +All this was strange at first to the doctor, but the rather voluble +Mrs. Green, who had come to Grandma Markham's relief, enlightened him, +dwelling with a kind of malicious pleasure upon the fact that Maddy's +earnings, had she been permitted to get a "stifficut," were to be +appropriated toward paying the debt. + +If the doctor had hated himself the previous day when he from the red +cottage gate, he hated himself doubly now as he went dashing down the +road, determined to resign his office of school inspector that very day. +And he did. + +Summoning around him those who had been most active in electing him, he +refused to officiate again, assuring them that if any more candidates +came he should either turn them from his door or give them a certificate +without asking a question. + +"Put anybody you like in my place," he said; "anybody but Guy Remington. +Don't for thunder's sake take him." + +There was no probability of this, as Guy lived in another town, and +could not have officiated had he wished. But the doctor was too much +excited to reason upon anything save Madeline Clyde's case. That he +perfectly understood; and during the next few weeks his other patients +waited many times in vain for his coming, while he sat by Maddy's side +watching every change, whether for the worse or better. Even Agnes +Remington was totally neglected; and so one day she sent Guy down to +Devonshire to say that as Jessie seemed more than usually delicate, she +wished the doctor to take her under his charge and visit her at least +once a week. The doctor was not at home, but Tom said he expected him +every moment. So seating himself in the armchair, Guy waited until he +came. + +"Well, Hal," he began, jocosely, but the joking words he would have +uttered next died on his lips as he noticed the strange look of +excitement and anxiety on the doctor's face. "What is it?" he asked. +"Are all your patients dead?" + +"Guy," and the doctor came closely to him, whispering huskily, "you and +I are murderers in the first degree. Yes; and both deserve to be hung. +Do you remember that Madeline Clyde whom you insulted with your logic +and Latin verbs? She'd set her heart on that certificate. She wanted +the money, not for new gowns and fooleries mind, but to help her old +grandfather pay his debts. His place is mortgaged. I don't understand +it; but he asked some old hunks to lend him the money, and the miserly +rascal, whoever he was, refused. I wish I had it. I'd give it to him out +and out. But that's nothing to do with the girl--Maddy they call her. +The disappointment killed her, and she's dying--is raving crazy--and +keeps talking of that confounded examination. I tell you, Guy, my inward +parts get terribly mixed up when I hear her talk, and my heart thumps +like a trip-hammer. That's the reason I have not been up to Aikenside. I +wouldn't leave Maddy so long as there was hope. I did not tell them +this morning. I couldn't make that poor couple feel worse than they are +feeling; but when I looked at her, tossing from side to side and picking +at the bedclothes, I knew it would soon be over--that when I saw her +again the poor little arms would be still enough and the bright eyes +shut forever. Guy, I couldn't see her die--I don't like to see anybody +die, but her, Maddy, of all others--and so I came away. If you stay long +enough, you'll hear the bell toll, I reckon. There is none at Honedale +Church, which they attend. They are Episcopalians, you see, and so +they'll come up here, maybe. I hope I shall be deafer than an adder." + +Here the doctor stopped, wholly out of breath, while Guy for a moment +sat without speaking a single word. Jessie, in his hearing, had told her +mother what the sick girl in the doctor's office had said about being +poor and wanting the money for grandpa, while Mrs. Noah had given him +a rather exaggerated account of Mr. Markham's visit; but he had not +associated the two together until now, when he saw the whole, and almost +as much as the doctor himself regretted the part he had had in Maddy's +illness and her grandfather's distress. + +"Doc," he said, laying his hand on the doctor's arm, "I am that old +hunks, the miserly rascal who refused the money. I met the old man going +home that day, and he asked me for help. You say the place must be sold. +It never shall, never. I'll see to that, and you must save the girl." + +"I can't, Guy. I've done all I can, and now, if she lives, it will be +wholly owing to the prayers that old saint of a grandfather says for +her. I never thought much of these things until I heard him pray; not +that she should live anyway, but that if it were right Maddy might not +die. Guy, there's something in such a prayer as that. It's more powerful +than all my medicine swallowed at one grand gulp." + +Guy didn't know very much about praying then, and so he did not respond, +but he thought of Lucy Atherstone, whose life was one hymn of prayer and +praise, and he wished she could know of Maddy, and join her petitions +with those of the grandfather. Starting suddenly from his chair, he +exclaimed, "I'm going down there. It will look queerly, too, to go +alone. Ah, I have it! I'll drive back to Aikenside for Jessie, who has +talked so much of the girl that her lady mother, forgetting that she +was once a teacher, is disgusted. Yes, I'll take Jessie with me, but you +must order it; you must say it is good for her to ride, and, Hal, give +me some medicine for her, just to quiet Agnes, no matter what, provided +it's not strychnine." + +Contrary to Guy's expectations, Agnes did not refuse to let Jessie +go for a ride, particularly as she had no suspicion where he intended +taking her, and the little girl was soon seated by her brother's side, +chatting merrily of the different things they passed upon the road. But +when Guy told her where they were going, and why they were going there, +the tears came at once into her eyes, and hiding her face in Guy's lap +she sobbed bitterly. + +"I did like her so much that day," she said, "and she looked so sorry, +too. It's terrible to die!" + +Then she plied Guy with questions concerning Maddy's probable future. +"Would she go to heaven, sure?" and When Guy answered at random, "Yes," +she asked, "How did he know? Had he heard that Maddy was that kind of +good which lets folks in heaven? Because, Brother Guy," and the little +preacher nestled closely to the young man, fingering his coat buttons +as she talked, "because, Brother Guy, folks can be good--that is, not do +naughty things--and still God won't love them unless they--I don't know +what, I wish I did." + +Guy drew her nearer to him, but to that childish yearning for knowledge +he could not respond, so he said: + +"Who taught you all this, little one?--not your mother, surely." + +"No, not mamma, but Miriam, the waiting-maid we left in Boston. She told +me about it, and taught me to pray different from mamma. Do you pray, +Brother Guy?" + +The question startled the young man, who was glad his coachman spoke to +him just then, asking if he should drive through Devonshire village, or +go direct to Honedale by a shorter route. + +They would go to the village, Guy said, hoping that thus the doctor +might be persuaded to accompany them. This diverted Jessie's mind, and +she said no more of praying; but the first tiny grain was sown, the +mustard seed, which should hereafter spring up into a mighty tree, the +indirect result of Maddy's disappointment and almost fatal illness. +They found the doctor at home and willing to go with them. Indeed, so +impatient had he become listening for the first stroke of the bell which +was to herald the death he deemed so sure, that he was on the point of +mounting his horse and galloping off alone, when Guy's invitation came. +It was five miles from Devonshire to Honedale, and when they reached a +hill which lay halfway between, they stopped for a few moments to rest +the tired horses. Suddenly, as they sat waiting, a sharp, ringing sound +fell on their ears, and grasping Guy's knee, the doctor said, "I told +you so; Madeline Clyde is dead." + +It was the village bell, and its twice three strokes betokened that it +tolled for somebody youthful, somebody young, like Maddy Clyde. Jessie +wept silently, but there were no tears in the eyes of the young men, as +with beating hearts they sat listening to the slow, solemn sounds which +came echoing up the hill. There was a pause; the sexton's dirgelike task +was done, and now it only remained for him to strike the age, and tell +how many years the departed one had numbered. + +"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten;" Jessie +counted it aloud, while every stroke fell like a heavy blow upon the +hearts of the young men, who a few weeks ago, knew not that such as +Maddy Clyde had ever had existence. + +How long it seemed before another stroke, and Guy was beginning to hope +they'd heard the last, when again the dull, muffled sound came floating +on the air, and Dr. Holbrook's black, bearded lip half quivered as he +now counted aloud, "one, two, three, four, five." + +That was all; there it stopped; and vain were all their listenings to +catch another note. Fifteen years, and only fifteen had passed over the +form now forever still. + +"She was fifteen," Guy whispered, remembering distinctly to have heard +that number from Maddy herself. + +"I thought they told me fourteen, but of course it's she," the doctor +rejoined. "Poor child, I would have given much to have saved her." + +Jessie did not talk; only once, when she asked Guy, if it was very far +to heaven, and if he supposed Maddy had got there by this time. + +"We'll go just the same," said Guy. "I will do what I can for the +old man;" and so the carriage drove on, down the hill, across the +meadow-land, and past a low-roofed house whose walls inclosed the +stiffened form of him for whom the bell had tolled, the boy, fifteen +years of age, who had been the patient of another than Dr. Holbrook. + +Maddy was not dead, but the paroxysm of restlessness had passed, and +she lay now in a heavy sleep so nearly resembling death that they who +watched, waited expectantly to see the going out of her last breath. +Never before had a carriage like that from Aikenside stopped at that +humble cottage, but the neighbors thought it came merely to bring the +doctor, whom they welcomed with a glad smile, making a way for him to +pass to Maddy's bedside. Guy preferred waiting in the carriage until +such time as Grandpa Markham could speak with him, but Jessie went +with the doctor into the sick room, startling even the grandmother, and +causing her to wonder who the richly-dressed child could be. + +"Dying, doctor," said one of the women, affirmatively, not +interrogatively; but the doctor shook his head, and holding in one hand +his watch he counted the faint pulse beats as with his eye he measured +off the minute. + +"There are too many here," he said. "She needs the air you are +breathing," and in his singular, authoritative way, he cleared the +crowded room of the mistaken friends who were unwittingly breathing up +Maddy's very life. + +All but the grandparents and Jessie; these he suffered to remain, and +sitting down by Maddy, watched till the long sleep was ended. Silently +and earnestly the aged couple prayed for their darling, asking that if +possible she might be spared, and God heard their prayers, lifting, +at last, the heavy fog from Maddy's brain, and waking her to life and +partial consciousness. It was Jessie who first caught the expression of +the opening eyes, and darting forward, she exclaimed, "She's waked up, +Dr. Holbrook. She will live." + +Wonderingly Maddy looked at her, and then as a confused recollection +of where they had met before crossed her mind, she smiled faintly, and +said: + +"Where am I now? Have I never come home, and is this Dr. Holbrook's +office?" + +"No, no; it's home, your home, and you are getting well," Jessie cried, +bending over the bewildered girl. "Dr. Holbrook has cured you, and Guy +is here, and I, and--" + +"Hush, you disturb her," the doctor said, gently pulling Jessie away, +and himself asking Maddy how she felt. + +She did not recognize him. She only had a vague idea that he might be +some doctor, but not Dr. Holbrook, sure; not the one who had so puzzled +and tortured her on a day which seemed now so far behind. From +the white-haired man kneeling by the bedside there was a burst of +thanksgiving for the life restored, and then Grandpa Markham tottered +from the room, out into the open air, which had never fallen so +refreshingly on his tried frame as it fell now, when he first knew that +Maddy would live. He did not care for his homestead; that might go, +and he still be happy with Maddy left. But He who had marked that true +disciple's every sigh, had another good in store, willing it so that +both should come together, even as the two disappointments had come hand +in hand. + +From the soft cushions of his carriage, where he sat reclining, Guy +Remington saw the old man as he came out, and alighting at once, he +accosted him pleasantly, and then walked with him to the garden, where, +on a rustic bench, built for Maddy beneath the cherry trees, Grandpa +Markham sat down to rest. From speaking of Madeline it was easy to go +back to the day when Guy had first met grandpa, whose application for +money he had refused. + +"I have thought better of it since," he said, "and am sorry I did not +accede to your proposal. One object of my coming here to-day was to say +that my purse is at your disposal. You can have as much as you wish, +paying me whenever you like, and the house shall not be sold. Slocum, +I understand, holds the mortgage. I will see him to-morrow and stop the +whole proceeding." + +Guy spoke rapidly, determined to make a clean breast of it, but grandpa +understood him, and bowing his white head upon his bosom, the big tears +dropped like rain upon the turf, while his lips quivered, first with +thanks to the Providence who had truly done all things well, and next +with thanks to his benefactor. + +"Blessings on your head, young man, for making me so happy. You are +worthy of your father, and he was the best of men." + +"My father--did you know him?" Guy asked, in some surprise, and then the +story came out, how, years before, when a city hotel was on fire, and +one of its guests in imminent danger from the locality of his room, +and his own nervous fear which made him powerless to act, another guest +braved fearlessly the hissing flame, and scaling the tottering wall, +dragged out to life and liberty one who, until that hour, was to him an +utter stranger. + +Pushing back his snowy hair, Grandfather Markham showed upon his temple +a long, white scar, obtained the night when he periled his own life to +save that of another. There was a doubly warm pressure now of the old +man's hand, as Guy replied, "I've heard that story from father himself, +but the name of his preserver had escaped me. Why didn't you tell me who +you were?" + +"I thought 'twould look too much like demanding it as a right--too +much like begging, and I s'pose I felt too proud. Pride is my besetting +sin--the one I pray most against." + +Guy looked keenly now at the man whose besetting sin was pride, and as +he marked the cheapness of his attire, his pantaloons faded and short, +his coat worn threadbare and shabby, his shoes both patched at the toes, +his cotton shirt minus a bosom, and then thought of the humble cottage, +with its few rocky acres, he wondered of what he could be proud. + +Meantime, for Maddy, Dr. Holbrook had prescribed perfect quiet, bidding +them darken again the window from which the shade had been removed, and +ordering all save the grandmother to leave the room and let the patient +sleep, if possible. Even Jessie was not permitted to stay, though Maddy +clung to her as to a dear friend. In a few whispered words Jessie had +told her name, saying she came from Aikenside, and that her Brother Guy +was there, too, outdoors, in the carriage. "He heard how sick you were +at Devonshire, this morning, and drove right home for me to come to see +you. I told him of you that day in the office, and that's why he brought +me, I guess. You'll like Guy. I know all the girls do--he's so good." + +Sick and weary as she was, and unable as yet to comprehend the entire +meaning of all she heard, Maddy was conscious of a thrill of pride in +knowing that Guy Remington, from Aikenside, was interested in her, +and had brought his sister to see her. Winding her feeble arms around +Jessie's neck, she kissed the soft, warm cheek, and said, "You'll come +again, I hope." + +"Yes, every day, if mamma will let me. I don't mind it a bit, if you are +poor." + +"Tut, tut, little tattler!" and Dr. Holbrook, who, unseen by the +children, had all the while been standing near, took Jessie by the arm. +"What makes you think them poor?" + +In the closely-shaded room Maddy could see nothing distinctly, but she +heard Jessie's reply: "Because the plastering comes down so low, and +Maddy's pillows are so teenty, not much bigger than my dolly's. But I +love her; don't you doctor?" + +Through the darkness the doctor caught the sudden flash of Maddy's eyes, +and something impelled him to lay his cool, broad hand on her forehead, +as he replied, "I love all my patients;" then, taking Jessie's arm, he +led her out to where Guy was waiting for her. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. -- CONVALESCENCE. + + +Had it not been for the presence of Dr. Holbrook, who, accepting Guy's +invitation to tea, rode back with him to Aikenside, Mrs. Agnes would +have gone off into a passion when told that Jessie had been "exposed to +fever and mercy knows what." + +"There's no telling what one will catch among the very poor," she said +to Dr. Holbrook, as she clasped and unclasped the heavy gold bracelets +flashing on her white, round arm. + +"I'll be answerable for any disease Jessie caught at Mr. Markham's," the +doctor replied. + +"At Mr. Who's? What did you call him?" Agnes asked, the bright color on +her cheek fading as the doctor replied: + +"Markham--an old man who lives in Honedale. You never knew him, of +course." + +Involuntarily Agnes glanced at Guy, in whose eye there was, as she +fancied, a peculiar expression. Could it be he knew the secret she +guarded so carefully? Impossible, she said to herself; but still the +white fingers trembled as she handled the china and silver, and for +once she was glad when the doctor took his leave, and she was alone with +Jessie. + +"What was that girl's name?" she asked, "the one you went to see?" + +"Maddy, mother--Madeline Clyde. She's so pretty. I'm going to see her +again. May I?" + +Agnes did not reply directly, but continued to question the child with +regard to the cottage which Jessie thought so funny, slanting away back, +she said, so that the roof on one side almost touched the ground. The +window panes, too, were so very tiny, and the room where Maddy lay sick +was small and low. + +"Yes, yes, I know," Agnes said at last, impatiently, weary of hearing of +the cottage whose humble exterior and interior she knew so much better +than Jessie herself. + +But this was not to be divulged; for surely the haughty Agnes Remington, +who, in Boston, aspired to lead in society into which, as the wife of +Dr. Remington, she had been admitted, and who, in Aikenside, was looked +upon with envy, could have nothing in common with the red cottage or its +inmates. So when Jessie asked again if she could not visit Maddy on the +morrow, she answered decidedly: "No, daughter, no. I do not wish you to +associate with such people," and when Jessie insisted on knowing why +she must not associate with such people as Maddy Clyde, the answer +was: "Because you are a Remington," and as if this of itself were of an +unanswerable objection, Agnes sent her child from her, refusing to talk +longer on a subject so disagreeable to her and so suggestive of the +past. It was all in vain that Jessie, and even Guy himself, tried to +revoke the decision. Jessie should not be permitted to come in contact +with that kind of people, she said, or incur the risk of catching that +dreadful fever. + +So day after day, while life and health were slowly throbbing through +her veins, Maddy waited and longed for the little girl whose one visit +to her sick room seemed so much like a dream. From her grandfather she +had heard the good news of Guy Remington's generosity, and that, quite +as much as Dr. Holbrook's medicines, helped to bring the color back to +the pallid cheek and the brightness to her eyes. + +She was asleep the first time the doctor came after the occasion of +Jessie's visit, and as sleep, he said, would do her more good than +anything he might prescribe, he did not awaken her; but for a long time, +as it seemed to Grandma Markham, who stood very little in awe of the +Boston doctor, he watched her as she slept, now clasping the blue-veined +wrist as he felt for the pulse, and now wiping from her forehead the +drops of sweat, or pushing back her soft, damp hair. It would be three +days before he could see her again, for a sick father in Cambridge +needed his attention, and after numerous directions as to the +administering of sundry powders and pills, he left her, feeling that the +next three days would be long ones to him. Dr. Holbrook did not stop +to analyze the nature of his interest in Maddy Clyde--an interest so +different from any he had ever felt before for his patients; and even if +he had sought to solve the riddle, he would have said that the knowing +how he had wronged her was the sole cause of his thinking far more of +her and of her case than of the thirty other patients on his list. Dr. +Holbrook was a handsome man, a thorough scholar, and a most skillful +physician; but ladies who expected from him those little polite +attentions which the sex value so highly generally expected in vain, +for he was no ladies' man, and his language and manners were oftentimes +abrupt, even when both were prompted by the utmost kindness of heart. In +his organization, too, there was not a quick perception of what would +be exactly appropriate, and so, when, at last, he was about starting to +visit Maddy again, he puzzled his brains until they fairly ached with +wondering what he could do to give her a pleasant surprise and show that +he was not as formidable a personage as her past experience might lead +her to think. + +"If I could only take her something," he said, glancing ruefully around +his office. "Now, if she were Jessie, nuts and raisins might answer--but +she must not eat such trash as that," and he set himself to think again, +just as Guy Remington rode up, bearing in his hand a most exquisite +bouquet, whose fragrance filled the medicine-odored office at once, +and whose beauty elicited an exclamation of delight even from the +matter-of-fact Dr. Holbrook. + +"I thought you might be going down to Honedale, as I knew you returned +last night, so I brought these flowers for your patient with my +compliments, or if you prefer I give them to you, and you can thus +present them as if coming from yourself." + +"As if I would do that," the doctor answered, taking the bouquet in his +hand the better to examine and admire it. "Did you arrange it, or your +gardener?" he asked, and when Guy replied that the merit of arrangement, +if merit there were, belonged to himself, he began to deprecate his own +awkwardness and want of tact. "Here I have been cudgeling my head this +half hour trying to think what I could take her as a peace offering, +and could think of nothing, while you--Well, you and I are different +entirely. You know just what is proper--just what to say, and when to +say it--while I am a perfect bore, and without doubt shall make some +ludicrous blunder in delivering the flowers. To-day will be the first +time really that we meet, as she was sleeping when I was there last, +while on all other occasions she has paid no attention whatever to me." + +For a moment Guy regarded his friend attentively, noticing now that +extra care had been bestowed upon his toilet, that the collar was fresh +from the laundry, and the new cravat tied in a most unexceptionable +manner, instead of being twisted into a hard knot, with the ends looking +as if they had been chewed. + +"Doc," he said, when his survey was completed, "how old are +you--twenty-five or twenty-six?" + +"Twenty-five--just your age--why?" and the doctor looked with an +expression so wholly innocent of Guy's real meaning that the latter, +instead of telling why, replied: + +"Oh! nothing; only I was wondering if you would do to be my father. +Agnes, I verily believe, is more than half in love with you; but, on +the whole, I would not like to be your son; so I guess you'd better take +some one younger--say Jessie. You are only eighteen years her senior." + +The doctor stared at him amazed, and when he had finished said with the +utmost candor: "What has that to do with Madeline? I thought we were +talking of her." "Innocent as the newly-born babe," was Guy's mental +comment, as he congratulated himself on his larger and more varied +experience. + +And truly Dr. Holbrook was as simple-hearted as a child, never dreaming +of Guy's meaning, or that any emotion save a perfectly proper one had a +lodgment in his breast as he drove down to Honedale, guarding carefully +Guy's bouquet, and wishing he knew just what he ought to say when he +presented it. + +Maddy had gained rapidly the last three days. Good nursing and the +doctor's medicines were working miracles, and on the morning when the +doctor, with Guy's bouquet, was riding rapidly toward Honedale, she was +feeling so much better that in view of his coming she asked if she could +not be permitted to receive him sitting in the rocking-chair, instead of +lying there in bed, and when this plan was vetoed as utterly impossible, +she asked, anxiously: + +"And must I see him in this nightgown? Can't I have on my pink gingham +wrapper?" + +Hitherto Maddy had been too sick to care at all about her personal +appearance, but it was different now. She did care, and thoughts of +meeting again the handsome, stylish-looking man who had asked her to +conjugate _amo_ and whom she fully believed to be Dr. Holbrook, made her +rather nervous. Dim remembrances she had of some one gliding in and +out, and when the pain and noise in her head was at its highest, a hand, +large, and, oh! so cool had been laid upon her temples, quieting their +throbbings and making the blood course less madly through the swollen +veins. They had told her how kind, how attentive he had been, and to +herself she had said: "He's sorry about that certificate. He wishes to +show me that he did not mean to be unkind. Yes; I forgive him: for I +really was very stupid that afternoon." + +And so, in a most forgiving frame of mind, Maddy submitted to the snowy +robe which grandma brought in place of the coveted gingham wrapper, and +which became her well, with its daintily-crimped ruffles about the neck +and wrists. Those wrists and hands! How white and small they had grown! +and Maddy sighed, as her grandmother buttoned together the wristbands, +to see how loose it was. + +"I have been very sick," she said. "Are my cheeks as thin as my arms?" + +They were not, though they had lost some of their symmetrical roundness. +Still there was much of childish beauty in the young, eager face, and +the hair had lost comparatively none of its glossy brightness. + +"That's him," grandma said, as the sound of a horse's gallop was heard, +and in a moment the doctor reined up before the gate. + +From Mrs. Markham, who met him in the door, he learned how much better +she was; also how "she has been reckoning on this visit, making herself +all a-sweat about it." + +Suddenly the doctor felt returning all his old dread of Maddy Clyde. +Why should she wrong herself into a sweat? What was there in that visit +different from any other? Nothing, he said to himself, nothing; and +yet he, too, had been more anxious about it than any he had ever paid. +Depositing his hat and gloves upon the table, he followed Mrs. Markham +up the stairs, vaguely conscious of wishing she would stay down, and +very conscious of feeling glad; when just at Maddy's door and opposite a +little window, she espied the hens busily engaged in devouring the yeast +cakes, with which she had taken so much pains, and which she had placed +in the hot sun to dry. Finding that they paid no heed to her loud "Shoo, +shoos," she started herself to drive them away, telling the doctor to go +right on and to help himself. + +The perspiration was standing under Maddy's hair by this time, and when +the doctor stepped across the threshold, and she knew he really was +coming near her, it oozed out upon her forehead in big, round drops, +while her cheeks glowed with a feverish heat. Thinking he should get +along with it better if he treated her just as he would Jessie, the +doctor confronted her at once, and asked: + +"How is my little patient to-day?" + +A faint scream broke from Maddy's lips, and she involuntarily raised +her hands to thrust the stranger away. This black-eyed, black-haired, +thick-set man was not Dr. Holbrook, for he was taller, and more slight, +while she had not been deceived in the dark brown eyes which, even while +they seemed to be mocking her, had worn a strange fascination for the +maiden of fourteen and a half. The doctor fancied her delirious again, +and this reassured him at once. Dropping the bouquet upon the bed, he +clasped one of her hands in his, and without the slightest idea that she +comprehended him, said, soothingly: + +"Poor child, are you afraid of me--the doctor, Dr. Holbrook?" Maddy did +not try to withdraw her hand, but raising her eyes, swimming in tears, +to his face, she stammered out: + +"What does it mean, and where is he--the one who--asked me--those +dreadful questions? I thought that was Dr. Holbrook." + +Here was a dilemma--something for which the doctor was not prepared, and +with a feeling that he would not betray Guy, he said: + +"No; that was some one else--a friend of mine--but I was there in the +back office. Don't you remember me? Please don't grow excited. Compose +yourself, and I will explain all by and by. This is wrong. 'Twill never +do," and talking thus rapidly he wiped away the sweat, about which +grandma had told him. + +Maddy was disappointed, and it took her some time to rally sufficiently +to convince the doctor that she was not flighty, as he termed it; but +composing herself at last, she answered all his questions, and then, +as he saw her eyes wandering toward the bouquet, he suddenly remembered +that it was not yet presented, and placing it in her hands, he said: + +"You like flowers, I know, and these are for you. I----" + +"Oh! thank you, thank you, doctor; I am so glad. I love them so much, +and you are so kind. What made you think to bring them? I've wanted +flowers so badly; but I could not have them, because I was sick and +did not work in the garden. It was so good in you," and in her delight +Maddy's tears dropped upon the fair blossoms. + +For a moment the doctor was sorely tempted to keep the credit thus +enthusiastically given; but he was too truthful for that, and so +watching her as her eyes glistened with pleased excitement, he said: + +"I am glad you like them, Miss Clyde, and so will Mr. Remington be. He +sent them to you from his conservatory." + +"Not Mr. Remington from Aikenside--not Jessie's brother?" and Maddy's +eyes now fairly danced as they sought the doctor's face. + +"Yes Jessie's brother. He came here with her. He is interested in you, +and brought these down this morning." + +"It was Jessie, I guess, who sent them," Maddy suggested, but the doctor +persisted that it was Guy. + +"He wished me to present them with his compliments. He thought they +might please you." + +"Oh! they do, they do!" Maddy replied. "They almost make me well. Tell +him how much I thank him, and like him too, though I never saw him." + +The doctor opened his lips to tell her she had seen him, but changed his +mind ere the words were uttered. She might not think as well of Guy, he +thought, and there was no harm in keeping it back. + +So Maddy had no suspicion that the face she thought of so much belonged +to Guy Remington. She had never seen him, of course; but she hoped +she would some time, so as to thank him for his generosity to her +grandfather and his kindness to herself. Then, as she remembered +the message she had sent him, she began to think that it sounded too +familiar, and said to the doctor: + +"If you please, don't tell Mr. Remington that I said I liked him--only +that I thank him. He would think it queer for a poor girl like me to +send such word to him. He is very rich, and handsome, and splendid, +isn't he?" + +"Yes, Guy's rich and handsome, and everybody likes him. We were in +college together." + +"You were?" Maddy exclaimed. "Then you know him well, and Jessie, and +you've been to Aikenside often? There's nothing in the world I want so +much as to go to Aikenside. They say it is so beautiful." + +"Maybe I'll carry you up there some day when you are strong enough to +ride," the doctor answered, thinking of his light buggy at home, +and wondering he had not used it more, instead of always riding on +horseback. + +Dr. Holbrook looked much older than he was, and to Maddy he seemed quite +fatherly, so that the idea of riding with him, aside from the honor it +might be to her, struck her much as riding with Farmer Green would have +done. The doctor, too, imagined that his proposition was prompted solely +from disinterested motives, but he found himself wondering how long it +would be before Maddy would be able to ride a little distance, just over +the hill and back. He was tiring her all out talking to her; but somehow +it was very delightful there in that sick room, with the summer sunshine +stealing through the window and falling upon the soft reddish-brown head +resting on the pillows. Once he fixed those pillows, arranging them +so nicely that grandma, who had come in from her hens and yeast cakes, +declared "he was as handy as a woman," and after receiving a few general +directions with regard to the future, "guessed, if he wasn't in a hurry, +she'd leave him with Maddy a spell, as there were a few chores she must +do." + +The doctor knew that at least a dozen individuals were waiting for him +that moment; but still he was in no hurry, he said, and so for half an +hour longer he sat there talking of Guy, and Jessie, and Aikenside, and +wondering he had never before observed how very becoming a white wrapper +was to sick girls like Maddy Clyde. Had he been asked the question, he +could not have told whether his other patients were habited in buff, or +brown, or tan color; but he knew all about Maddy's garb, and thought the +dainty frill around her slender throat the prettiest "puckered piece" +that he had ever seen. How, then, was Dr. Holbrook losing his heart to +that little girl of fourteen and a half? He did not think so. Indeed, he +did not think anything about his heart, though thoughts of Maddy Clyde +were pretty constantly with him, as after leaving her he paid his round +of visits. + +The Aikenside carriage was standing at Mrs. Conner's gate when he +returned, and Jessie came running out to meet him, followed by Guy, +while Agnes, in the most becoming riding habit, sat by the window +looking as unconcerned at his arrival as if it were not the very event +for which she had been impatiently waiting, Jessie was a great pet with +the doctor, and, lifting her lightly in his arms, he kissed her forehead +where the golden curls were clustering and said to her: + +"I have seen Maddy Clyde. She asked for you, and why you do not come to +see her, as you promised." + +"Mother won't let me," Jessie answered. "She says they are not fit +associates for a Remington." + +There was a sudden flash of contempt on the doctor's face, and a gleam +of wrath in Agnes' eyes as she motioned Jessie to be silent, and then +gracefully received the doctor, who by this time was in the room. As if +determined to monopolize the conversation, and keep it from turning +on the Markhams, Agnes rattled on for nearly fifteen minutes, scarcely +allowing Guy a chance for uttering a word. But Guy bided his time, and +seized the first favorable opportunity to inquire after Madeline. + +She was improving rapidly, the doctor said, adding: "You ought to have +seen her delight when I gave her your bouquet." + +"Indeed," and Agnes bridled haughtily; "I did not know that Guy was in +the habit of sending bouquets to such as this Clyde girl. I really must +report him to Miss Atherstone." + +Guy's seat was very near to Agnes, and while a cloud overspread his fine +features, he said to her in an aside: + +"Please say in your report that the worst thing about this Clyde girl is +that she aspires to be a teacher, and possibly a governess." + +There was an emphasis on the last word which silenced Agnes and set her +to beating her French gaiter on the carpet; while Guy, turning back to +the doctor, replied to his remark: + +"She was pleased, then?" + +"Yes; she must be vastly fond of flowers, though I sometimes fancied the +fact of being noticed by you afforded almost as much satisfaction as +the bouquet itself. She evidently regards you as a superior being, and +Aikenside as a second Paradise, and asking innumerable questions about +you and Jessie, too." + +"Did she honor me with an inquiry?" Agnes asked, her tone indicative of +sarcasm, though she was greatly interested as well as relieved by the +reply: + +"Yes; she said she heard that Jessie's mother was a beautiful woman, and +asked if you were not born in England." + +"She's mixed me up with Lucy. Guy, you must go down and enlighten her," +Agnes said, laughing merrily and appearing more at ease than she had +before since Maddy Clyde had been the subject of conversation. + +Guy did not go down to Honedale--but fruit and flowers, and once a +bottle of rare old wine, found their way to the old red cottage, +always brought by Guy's man, Duncan, and always accompanied with Mr. +Remington's compliments. Once, hidden among the rosebuds, was a childish +note from Jessie, some of it printed and some in the uneven hand of a +child just commencing to write. + +It was as follows: + +"DEAD MADDY: I think that is such a pretty name, and so does Guy, and so +does the doctor, too. I want to come see you, but mamma won't let me. +I think of you ever so much, and so does Guy, I guess, for he sends +you lots of things. Guy is a nice brother, and is most as old as mamma. +Ain't that funny? You know my first ma is dead. The doctor tells us +about you when he comes to Aikenside. I wish he'd come oftener, for I +love him a bushel--don't you? Yours respectfully, + +"JESSIE AGNES REMINGTON. + +"P. S.--I am going to tuck this in just for fun, right among the buds, +where you must look for it." + +This note Maddy read and reread until she knew it by heart, particularly +the part relating to Guy. Hitherto she had not particularly liked her +name, greatly preferring that it should have been Eliza Ann, or +Sarah Jane; but the knowing that Guy Remington fancied it made a vast +difference, and did much toward reconciling her. She did not even see +the clause, "and the doctor, too." His attentions and concern she took +as a matter of course, so quietly and so constantly had they been given. +The day was very long now which did not bring him to the cottage; but +she missed him much as she would have missed her brother, if she had had +one, though her pulse always quickened and her cheeks glowed when she +heard him at the gate. The inner power did not lie deeper than a great +friendliness for one who had been instrumental in saving her life. +They had talked over the matter of her examination, the doctor blaming +himself more than was necessary for his ignorance as to what was +required of a teacher; but when she asked who was his proxy, he had +again answered, evasively: "A friend from Boston." + +And this he did to shield Guy, whom he knew was enshrined in the little +maiden's heart as a paragon of all excellence. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. -- THE DRIVE. + + +Latterly the doctor had taken to driving in his buggy, and when Maddy +was strong enough he took her with him one day, himself adjusting the +shawl which grandma wrapped around her, and pulling a little farther on +the white sunbonnet which shaded the sweet, pale face, where the roses +were just beginning to bloom again. The doctor was very happy that +morning, and so, too, was Maddy, talking to him upon the theme of +which she never tired, Guy Remington, Jessie and Aikenside. Was it as +beautiful a place as she had heard it was, and didn't he think it would +be delightful to live there? + +"I suppose Mr. Guy will be bringing a wife there some day when he finds +one," and leaning back in the buggy Maddy heaved a little sigh, not at +thoughts of Guy Remington's wife, but because she began to feel tired, +and thus gave vent to her weariness. + +The doctor, however, did not so construe it. He heard the sigh, and for +the first time when listening to her as she talked of Guy, a keen throb +of pain shot through his heart, a something as near akin to jealousy as +it was possible for him then to feel. But all unused as he was to the +workings of love he did not at that moment dream of such an emotion in +connection with Madeline Clyde. He only knew that something affected him +unpleasantly, prompting him, for some reason, to tell Maddy Clyde +about Lucy Atherstone, who, in all probability, would one day come to +Aikenside as its mistress. + +"Yes, Guy will undoubtedly marry," he began, just as over the top of +the easy hill they were ascending horses' heads were visible, and the +Aikenside carriage appeared in view. "There he is now," he exclaimed, +adding quickly: "No, I am mistaken, there's only a lady inside. It must +be Agnes." + +It was Agnes driving out alone, for the sole purpose of passing a +place which had a singular attraction for her, the old, red cottage in +Honedale. She recognized the doctor, and guessed whom he had with him, +Putting up her glass, for which she had no more need than Jessie, she +scrutinized the little figure bundled up in shawls, while she smiled +her sweetest smile upon the doctor, showing to good advantage her white +teeth, and shaking back her wealth of curls with the air and manner of a +young coquettish girl. + +"Oh, what a handsome lady! Who is she?" Maddy asked, turning to look +after the carriage now swiftly descending the hill. + +"That was Jessie's mother, Mrs. Agnes Remington," the doctor replied. +"She'll feel flattered with your compliment." + +"I did not mean to flatter. I said what I thought. She is handsome, +beautiful, and so young, too. Was that a gold bracelet which flashed so +on her arm?" + +The doctor presumed it was, though he had not noticed. Gold bracelets +were not new to him as they were to Maddy, who continued: + +"I wonder if I'll ever wear a bracelet like that?" + +"Would you like to?" the doctor asked, glancing at the small white +wrist, around which the dark calico sleeve was closely buttoned, +and thinking how much prettier and modest-looking it was than Agnes' +half-bare arms, where the ornaments were flashing. + +"Y-e-s," came hesitatingly from Maddy, who had a strong passion for +jewelry. "I guess I would, though grandpa classes all such things with +the pomps and vanities which I must renounce when I get to be good." + +"And when will that be?" the doctor asked. + +Again Maddy sighed, as she replied: "I cannot tell. I thought so much +about it while I was sick, that is, when I could think; but now I'm +better, it goes away from me some. I know it is wrong, but I cannot help +it. I've seen only a bit of pomp and vanity, but I must say that I like +what I have seen, and I wish to see more. It's very wicked, I know," she +kept on, as she met the queer expression of the doctor's face; "and I +know you think me so bad. You are good--a Christian, I suppose?" + +There was a strange light in the doctor's eye as he answered, half +sadly: "No, Maddy, I am not what you call a Christian, I have not +renounced the pomps and vanities yet." + +"Oh, I'm so sorry," and Maddy's eyes expressed all the sorrow she +professed to feel. "You ought to be, now you've got so old." + +The doctor colored crimson, and stopping his horse under the dim shadow +of a maple in a little hollow, he said: + +"I'm not so very old, Maddy; only twenty-five--only ten years older than +yourself; and Agnes' husband was more than twenty years her senior." + +The doctor did not know why he dragged that last in, when it had nothing +whatever to do with their conversation; but as the most trivial thing +often leads to great results, so far from the pang caused by Maddy's +thinking him so old, was born the first real consciousness he had ever +had that the little girl beside him was very dear, and that the ten +years difference between them might prove a most impassable gulf. With +this feeling, it was exceedingly painful for him to hear Maddy's sudden +exclamation: + +"Oh, oh! over twenty years--that's dreadful. She must be most glad he's +dead. I would not marry a man more than five years older than I am." + +"Not if you loved him, and he loved you very, very dearly?" the doctor +asked, his voice low and tender in its tone. + +Wholly unsuspicious of the wild storm beating in his heart, Maddy untied +her white sunbonnet, and, taking it in her lap, smoothed back her soft +hair, saying, with a long breath: "Oh! I'm so hot," and then, as just +thinking of his question, replied: "I shouldn't love him--I couldn't. +Grandma is five years younger than grandpa, mother was five years +younger than father, Mrs. Green is five years younger than Mr. Green, +and, oh! ever so many. You are warm, too; ain't you?" and she turned +her innocent eyes full upon the doctor, who was wiping from his lips the +great drops of water, induced not so much by the heat as by the apparent +hopelessness of the love he now knew was growing in his heart for Maddy +Clyde. Recurring again to Agnes, Maddy said: "I wonder why she married +that old man? It is worse than if you were to marry Jessie." + +"Money and position were the attractions, I imagine," the doctor +said. "Agnes was poor, and esteemed it a great honor to be made Mrs. +Remington." + +"Poor, was she?" Maddy rejoined. "Then maybe Mr. Guy will some day marry +a poor girl. Do you think he will?" + +Again Lucy Atherstone trembled on the doctor's lips, but he did not +speak of her--it was preposterous that Maddy should have any thoughts of +Guy Remington, who was quite as old as himself, besides being engaged, +and with this comforting assurance the doctor turned his horse in the +direction of the cottage, for Maddy was growing tired and needed to be +at home. + +"Perhaps you'll some time change your mind about people so much older, +and if you do you'll remember our talk this morning," he said, as he +drove up at last before the gate. + +Oh, yes! Maddy would never forget that morning or the nice ride they'd +had. She had enjoyed it so much, and she thanked him many times for his +kindness, as she stood waiting for him to drive away, feeling no tremor +whatever when at parting he took and held her hand, smoothing it gently, +and telling her it was growing fat and plump again. He was a very nice +doctor, much better than she had imagined, she thought, as she went +slowly to the house and entered the neat kitchen, where her grandmother +sat shelling peas for dinner, and her grandfather in his leathern chair +was whispering over his weekly paper. + +"Did you meet a grand lady in a carriage?" grandma asked, as Maddy sat +down beside her. + +"Yes; and Dr. Holbrook said it was Mrs. Remington, from Aikenside, Mr. +Guy's stepmother, and that she was more than twenty years younger than +her husband--isn't it dreadful? I thought so; but the doctor didn't +seem to," and in a perfectly artless manner Maddy repeated much of the +conversation which had passed between the doctor and herself, appealing +to her grandma to know if she had not taken the right side of the +argument. + +"Yes, child, you did," and grandma's hands lingered among the light +green peas in her pan, as if she were thinking of an entirely foreign +subject. "I knows nothing about this Mrs. Remington, only that she +stared a good deal at the house as she went by, even looking at us +through a glass, and lifting her spotted veil after she got by. She may +have been as happy as a queen with her man, but as a general thing these +unequal matches don't work, and had better not be thought on. S'posin' +you should think you was in love with somebody, and in a few years, when +you got older, be sick of him. It might do him a sight of harm. That's +what spoilt your poor Great-uncle Joseph, who's been in the hospital at +Worcester goin' on nine years." + +"It was!" and Maddy's face was all aglow with the interest she always +evinced whenever mention was made of the one great living sorrow of her +grandmother's life--the shattered intellect and isolation from the world +of her youngest brother, who, as she said, had for nearly nine long +years been an inmate of a madhouse. + +"Tell me about it," Maddy continued, bringing a pillow, and lying down +upon the faded lounge beneath the window. + +"There is no great to tell, only he was many years younger than I. +He's only forty-one now, and was thirteen years older than the girl he +wanted. Joseph was smart and handsome, and a lawyer, and folks said a +sight too good for the girl, whose folks were just nothing, but she had +a pretty face, and her long curls bewitched him. She couldn't have been +older than you when he first saw her, and she was only sixteen when they +got engaged. Joseph's life was bound up in her; he worshiped the very +air she breathed, and when she mittened him, it almost took his life. +He was too old for her, she said, and then right on top of that we heard +after a little that she married some big bug, I never knew who, plenty +old enough to be her father. That settled it with Joseph; he went into +a kind of melancholy, grew worse and worse, till we put him in the +hospital, usin' his little property to pay the bill until it was all +gone, and now he's on charity, you know, exceptin' what we do. That's +what 'tis about your Uncle Joseph, and I warn all young girls of +thirteen or fourteen not to think too much of nobody. They are bound to +get sick of 'em, and it makes dreadful work." + +Grandma had an object in telling this to Maddy, for she was not blind +to the nature of the doctor's interest in her child, and though it +gratified her pride, she felt that it must not be, both for his sake +and Maddy's, so she told the sad story of Uncle Joseph as a warning +to Maddy, who could scarcely be said to need it. Still it made an +impression on her, and all that afternoon she was thinking of the +unfortunate man, whom she had seen but once, and that in his prison +home, where she had been with her grandfather the only time she had ever +ridden in the cars. He had taken her in his arms then, she remembered, +and called her his little Sarah. That must have been the name of his +treacherous betrothed. She would ask if it were not so, and she did. + +"Yes, Sarah Morris, that was her name, and her face was handsome as +a doll," grandma replied, and wondering if she were as beautiful as +Jessie, or Jessie's mother, Maddy went back to her reveries of the poor +maniac, whom Sarah Morris had wronged so cruelly. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. -- SHADOWINGS OF WHAT WAS TO BE. + + +It was very pleasant at Aikenside that afternoon, and the cool breeze +blowing from the miniature fish pond in one corner of the grounds, came +stealing into the handsome parlors, where Agnes Remington, in tasteful +toilet, reclined languidly upon the crimson-hued sofa, bending her +graceful head to suit the height of Jessie, who was twining some flowers +among her curls, and occasionally appealing to Guy to know "if it was +not pretty." + +In his favorite seat in the pleasant bay window, opening into the +garden, Guy was sitting, apparently reading a book, though his eyes did +not move very rapidly down the page, for his thoughts were on some other +object. When his pretty stepmother first came to Aikenside, three months +before, he had been half sorry, for he knew just how his quiet would +be disturbed, but as the weeks went by, and he became accustomed to +Jessie's childish prattle and frolicsome ways, while even Agnes herself +was not a bad picture for his handsome home, he began to feel how he +should miss them when they were gone, Jessie particularly, who made so +much sunshine wherever she went, and who was very dear to the heart of +the half-brother. Full well he knew Agnes would rather stay there, that +her income did not warrant as luxurious a home as he could give her, and +that by remaining at Aikenside during the warmer season she could afford +to board through the winter in Boston, where her personal attractions +secured her quite as much attention as was good for her. Had she been +more agreeable to him he would not have hesitated to offer her a home +as long as she chose to remain, but, as it was, he felt that Lucy +Atherstone would be much happier alone with him. Lucy, however, was +not coming yet, and until she did come Agnes perhaps might stay. It +certainly would be better for Jessie, who could have a teacher in the +house, and it was upon these matters that he was reflecting. + +As if divining his thoughts Agnes said to him rather abruptly: + +"Guy, Ellen Laurie writes me that they are all going to Saratoga for +a time, and then to Newport, and she wished I would join them. Do you +think I can afford it?" + +"Oh, yes, that's splendid, for I'll stay here while you are gone, and +I like Aikenside so much better than Boston. Mamma can afford it, can't +she, Guy?" Jessie exclaimed, dropping her flowers and springing upon her +brother's knee. + +Smoothing her bright hair and pinching her soft cheek, Guy replied: + +"That means, I suppose, that I can afford it, don't it? but, puss, I was +thinking just now about your staying here where you really do improve." + +Then turning to Agnes he made some inquiries as to the plans proposed +by the Laurie's, ascertaining that Agnes' plan was as follows: He should +invite her to go with him to Saratoga, or Newport, or both, and that +Jessie meantime should remain at Aikenside, just as she wished to do. + +Guy could not find much pleasure in escorting Agnes to a fashionable +watering place, particularly as he was, of course, expected to pay the +bills, but he sometimes did unselfish things; and as he had not been +very gracious to her on the occasion of her last visit to Aikenside, +he decided to martyr himself and go to Saratoga. But who would care for +Jessie? She must not be left wholly with the servants. A governess of +some kind must be provided, and he was about speaking of this to Agnes, +when the doctor was announced, and the conversation turned into another +channel. Agnes Remington would not have confessed how much she was +interested in Dr. Holbrook. Indeed, only that morning in reply to a +joking remark made to her by Guy, she had petulantly exclaimed: + +"The idea of my caring for him, except as a friend and physician. Why, +he must be younger than I am, or at most about my age. A mere boy, as it +were." + +And yet, in making her toilet that afternoon, she had arranged every +part of her dress with direct reference to the "mere boy," her heart +beating faster every time she remembered the white sunbonnet and the +Scotch plaid shawl she had seen beside him in the drive that morning. +Little Maddy Clyde would hardly have credited the story had she been +told that the beautiful lady from Aikenside was positively jealous of +Dr. Holbrook's attentions to herself; yet so it was, and the jealousy +was all the more bitter when she remembered who Madeline was, and how +startled that aged couple of the red cottage would be, could they know +who she was. But they did not; she was quite sure of that; and so she +had ventured to pass their door, her heart throbbing with a strange +sensation as the old waymarks came in view, waymarks which she +remembered so well, and around which so many sad memories were +clustering. Agnes was not all bad. Indeed, she was scarcely worse than +most vain, selfish fashionable women; and all that day, since her return +from riding, haunting, remorseful thoughts of the long ago had been +clinging to her, making her more anxious to leave that neighborhood for +a time at least, and in scenes of gayety forget, if possible, that such +things as broken vows or broken hearts existed. + +The arrival of the doctor dissipated her sadness in a measure, and +after greeting him with her usual expressions of welcome, she said, half +playfully, half spitefully: + +"By the way, doctor, who was that old lady, all bent up double in shawls +and things, whom you were taking out for an airing?" + +Guy looked up quickly, wondering where Agnes could have seen the doctor, +who, conscious of a sudden pang, answered, naturally: + +"That old lady, bent double and bundled in shawls, was young Maddy +Clyde, to whom I thought a short ride might do good." + +"Oh, yes; that patient about whom Jessie has gone mad. I am glad to have +seen her." + +There was unmistakable irony in her voice now, and turning from her to +Guy, the doctor continued: + +"The old man was telling me to-day of your kindness in saving his house +from being sold. It was like you, Guy; and I wish I, too, had the means +to be generous, for they are so very poor." + +"I'll tell you," said Jessie, who had stolen to the doctor's side, and +lain her fat, bare arm upon his shoulder, as if he had been Guy. "You +might give Maddy the doctor's bill. I remember how mamma cried, and said +she never could pay papa's bill when it was sent in." + +"Jessie!" said Agnes and Guy, simultaneously, while the doctor +laughingly pulled one of her long, bright curls. + +"Yes, I could do that. I'd thought of it, but they might not accept it, +as they are proud as well as poor." + +"Mr. Markham has no one to care for but his wife and this Madeline, has +he?" Agnes asked, and the doctor replied: + +"I did not suppose so until a few days since, when I learned from a +Mr. Green that Mrs. Markham's youngest and now only brother has been an +inmate of a lunatic asylum for years; and that though they cannot pay +his entire expenses, of course they do all they can toward providing him +with comforts." + +"What is a lunatic asylum, mother? What does he mean?" Jessie asked, but +it was the doctor, not Agnes, who explained to the child what a lunatic +asylum was. + +"Is insanity hereditary in this family?" Guy asked. + +Agnes' cheek was very white, though her face was fumed away as the +doctor answered: "I do not know; I did not ask the cause. I only heard +the fact that such a man as Joseph Mortimer exists." + +For a moment there was silence in the room, and then Guy told the doctor +of what himself and Agnes were speaking when he arrived. + +"I suppose it's of no use asking you to join us for a week or so." + +"There was not," the doctor said. "His patients needed him and he must +stay at home." + +"Doctor, how would this Maddy Clyde do to stay here with Jessie while we +are gone, partly as companion and partly as her teacher?" was Guy's next +question, which brought Mrs. Agnes at once from her reverie. + +"Guy," she exclaimed, "are you crazy? That child Jessie's governess! No, +indeed! I shall have a teacher from Boston--one whose manners and style +are unexceptionable." + +Guy had a will of his own, and few could provoke it into action as +effectually as Agnes, who, in thus opposing him, was working directly +against herself. Paying her no attention, except to bow in token that he +heard, Guy asked Jessie her opinion. + +"Oh, it will be splendid! Can she come to-morrow? I shan't care how long +you are gone if I can have Maddy here, and doctor will come up every +day, will you, doctor?" and the soft eyes looked up pleadingly into the +doctor's face. + +"It is not settled yet that Maddy comes," the doctor replied, adding as +an answer to Guy's question: "If Agnes could be willing, I do not think +you could do better than to secure Miss Clyde's services. Two children +will thus be made happy, for Maddy, as I have told you, thinks Aikenside +must be a little lower only than Paradise. I shall be happy to open +negotiations, if you say so." + +"I'll ride down and let you know to-morrow," Guy said. "These domestic +matters, where there is a difference of thinking, had better be +discussed alone," and he turned good-humoredly toward Agnes, who knew it +was useless to oppose him then. + +But oppose him she did that night, after the doctor had gone, taking +at first the high stand that sooner than have a country girl like +Maddy Clyde associated daily with her daughter, whether as teacher or +companion, she would give up Saratoga and stay at home. Guy could not +explain why it was that opposition from Agnes always aroused all his +powers of antagonism. Yet so it was, and now he was as fully determined +that Maddy Clyde should come to Aikenside as Agnes was that she should +not. He knew, too, how to attain this end without further altercation. + +"Very well," was his quiet reply, "you can remain at home if you choose, +of course. I had intended taking you myself, wherever you wished to go; +and not only that, but I was about to ask how much was needed for the +necessary additions to your wardrobe, but if you prefer remaining here +to giving up a most unfounded prejudice against a girl who never harmed +you, and whom Jessie already loves, you can do so," and Guy walked from +the room, leaving Agnes first to cry, then to pout, then to think it all +over, and finally to decide that going to Saratoga and Newport under +the protection of Guy, was better than carrying out a whim, which, after +all, was nothing but a whim. + +Accordingly next morning as Guy was in his library reading his papers, +she went tripping up to him, and folding her white hands upon his +shoulder, said, very prettily: + +"I was real cross last night, and let my foolish pride get the +ascendency, but I have considered the matter, and am willing for this +Miss Clyde to come, provided you still think it best." + +Guy's mustache hid the mischievous smile lurking about his mouth, and +he received the concession as graciously as if he did not know perfectly +the motive which impelled it. As she had commenced being amiable she +seemed determined to continue it, and offered herself to write a note +soliciting Maddy's services, + +"As I am Jessie's mother, it will be perfectly proper for me to hire and +manage her," she said, and as Guy acquiesced in this suggestion, she sat +down at the writing desk, and commenced a very pleasantly worded note, +in which Miss Clyde was informed that she had been recommended as a +suitable person with whom to leave Jessie during the summer and a part +of the autumn, and that she, Jessie's mother, wrote to ask if for the +sum of one dollar per week she were at liberty to come to Aikenside as +governess, or waiting-maid. + +"Or what?" Guy asked, as she read to him what she had written. "Maddy +Clyde will not be waiting-maid in this house, neither will she come for +one dollar per week as you propose. I hire her myself. I have taken +a fancy to the girl. Commence again; substitute companion for +waiting-maid, and offering her three dollars per week instead of one." + +As long as Guy paid the bill Agnes could not demur to the price, +although remembering a time when she had taught a district school +for one dollar per week and boarded around besides. She thought three +dollars far too much. But Guy had commanded, and him she generally +obeyed, so she wrote another note, which he approved, and sealing it up +sent it by a servant down to the red cottage. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. -- THE DECISION. + + +The reception of Agnes' note produced quite a commotion at the red +cottage, where various opinions were expressed as to the prime mover of +the plan, grandpa thinking that as Mrs. Agnes wrote the note, and +was most interested in it, she, of course, had suggested it, grandma +insisting that it was Jessie's doings, while Maddy, when she said +anything, agreed with her grandmother, though away down in her heart +was a tiny spot warm with the half belief that Mr. Guy himself had first +thought of having her at Aikenside, where she would rather go than to +any other spot in the wide world; to Aikenside, with its shaven lawn, +almost large enough to be called a park, with its shaded paths and +winding walks, its costly flowers and running vines, its fountains and +statuary, its fish pond and grove, its airy rooms, its marbled hall, its +winding stairs, with banisters of rosewood, its cupola at the top, from +which so many miles of hill and meadow land could be discerned, its bay +windows and long piazzas, its sweet-faced, golden-haired Jessie, and its +manly, noble Guy. Only the image of Agnes, flashing in silk and diamonds +was a flaw on the picture's fair surface. From thoughts of her Maddy had +insensibly shrank, until she met her in the carriage, and then received +the note asking her services. These events wrought in her a change, and +dread of Mrs. Agnes passed away. She should like her, and she should be +so happy at Aikenside, for, of course, she was going, and she began to +wish the doctor would come so as to tell her how long before she would +be strong enough to perform the duties of teacher to little Jessie. + +At first Grandpa Markham hesitated. It might do Maddy a deal of hurt to +go to Aikenside, he said, her humble home would look mean to her after +all that finery, while the temptations to vanity and ambition would be +greater there than at home; but Maddy put all his objections aside, and +long before the doctor came she had written to Mrs. Agnes that she would +go. The doctor could not understand why it was that in Maddy's home +he did not think as well of her going to Aikenside as he had done the +evening previous. She looked so bright, so pure, so artless, sitting +by her grandfather's knee, that it seemed a pity to transplant her to +another soil, while, hidden in his heart where even he did not know it +was hidden, was a fear of what might be the effect of daily intercourse +with Guy. Still he said it was the best thing for her to do, and +laughingly remarked that it was far better than teaching the district +school, and then he asked if she would ride again that day; but to +this Mrs. Markham objected. It was too soon, she said, Maddy had hardly +recovered from yesterday's fatigue, suggesting that as the doctor was +desirous of doing good to his convalescent patients, he carry out poor +old deaf Mary Barnes, who complained that he stayed so long with the +child at "granther Markham's" as to have but a moment to spare for her. + +Instantly the eyes of Mrs. Markham and the doctor met, the latter +feeling very uncomfortable, while the former was confirmed in the +suspicion raised by what Maddy told her the day before. + +It was the doctor who carried Maddy's answer to Agnes, the doctor who +made all the succeeding arrangements, deciding that Maddy would not be +wholly strong until the very day fixed upon by Agnes for her departure +for Saratoga. For this Guy was sorry. It would have been an easy matter +for him to have ridden down to the cottage, and seen the girl in whom he +was beginning to feel so much interest that in his last letter to Lucy +he had mentioned her as about to become his sister's governess; but he +did not care to see her there. It seemed to him that the surroundings +of that slanting-roofed house did not belong to her, and he would rather +meet her in his own more luxurious home. But the doctor's word was law, +and so, on the first day of August he followed Agnes and her three huge +traveling trunks to the carriage, and was driven from the house to which +Maddy was coming that afternoon. + + + + +CHAPTER X. -- AT AIKENSIDE. + + +It was a long, tiresome ride, for grandpa, from Honedale to Aikenside, +and as he was not in his wife's secret, he accepted thankfully the +doctor's offer to take Maddy there himself. With this arrangement Maddy +was well pleased, as it would thus afford her the opportunity she had so +much desired, of talking with the doctor about his bill, and asking him +to wait until she had earned enough to pay it. + +To the aged couple, parting for the first time with their darling, the +day was very sad, but they would not intrude their grief upon the young +girl looking so eagerly forward to the new life opening before her; +only grandpa's voice faltered a little when, in the morning prayer, +he commended his child to God, asking that she might be kept from +temptation, and that the new sights and scenes to which she was going +might not beget in her a love of the world's vanities, or a disgust for +her old home; but that she might come back to it the same loving, happy +child as she was then, and never be ashamed of the parents to whom +she was so dear. There was an answering sob from the chair where Maddy +knelt, and after the devotions were ended she wound her arm around +her grandfather's neck, and parting his silvery locks, said to him, +earnestly; + +"Grandpa, do you think I could ever be ashamed of you and grandma?" + +"I hope not, darling; it would break our hearts; but finery and things +is mighty apt to set folks up, and after you've walked a spell on them +velvet carpets, you'll no doubt think your feet make a big noise on our +bare kitchen floor." + +"That may be, but I shan't be ashamed of you. No, not if I were Mrs. Guy +Remington herself." And Maddy emphasized her words with a kiss, as she +thought how nice it would be provided she were a widow, to be Mrs. Guy +Remington, and have her grandparents live at Aikenside with her. + +"But, pshaw! I'll never be Mrs. anybody; and if I am, I'll have to have +a husband, which would be such a bother!" was her next mental comment, +as, leaving her grandfather, she went to help her grandmother with the +breakfast dishes, wondering when she would wipe those blue cups again, +and how she should probably feel when she did. + +Quickly the morning passed, and just as the clock struck two the +doctor's buggy appeared over the hill. Up to this moment Maddy had only +been happy in anticipation; but when, with her shawl and bonnet on, she +stood waiting while the doctor fastened her little trunk, and when she +saw a tear on the wrinkled faces of both her grandparents, her fortitude +gave way; and 'mid a storm of sobs, she said her good-bys and received +her grandfather's blessing. + +It was very pleasant that afternoon, for the summer breeze was blowing +cool across the fields, where the laborers were busy; and with the +elasticity of youth, Maddy's tears stopped their flowing, but not until +the dear old home had disappeared, and they were some distance on the +road to Aikenside. + +"I wonder how I shall like Mrs. Remington and Mr. Guy?" was the first +remark she made. + +"You'll not see them immediately. They left this morning for Saratoga," +the doctor replied. + +"Left! Mr. Guy gone!" Maddy repeated in a disappointed tone. + +"Are you very sorry?" the doctor asked, and Maddy replied: + +"I did want to see him once; you know I never have." + +It would be such a surprise to find that Guy was no other than the +terrible inspector, that he would not undeceive her, the doctor thought; +and so he relapsed into a thoughtful mood, from which Maddy aroused him +by breaking the subject of the unpaid bill, asking if he'd please not +trouble grandpa, but wait until she could pay it. + +"Perhaps it's wrong asking it when you were so good, but if you only +will take me for payment," and Maddy's soft brown eyes were lifted to +his face. + +"Yes, Maddy, I'll take you for payment," the doctor said, smiling, half +seriously, as his eyes rested fondly upon her. + +Even then stupid Maddy did not understand him, but began to calculate +out loud how long it would take to earn the money. She'd heard people +say that the doctor charged a dollar a visit to Honedale, and he'd been +so many, many times, that it would take a great many weeks to pay him; +besides, there was the debt to Mr. Guy. She wanted to help pay that, but +did not see how she could, unless he waited, too. Did the doctor think +he would? It seemed terrible to the doctor that one so young as Maddy +should be harassed with the payment of debts, and he felt a most intense +desire for the right to shield her from all such care, but he must +not speak of it then; he'd rather she should remain a little longer an +artless child, confiding all her troubles to him as if he had been her +brother. + +"There's Aikenside," he said, at last, and it was not long before they +passed through the gate, guarded by the great bronze lions, and struck +into the graveled road leading to the house. + +"It's grander, finer, than I ever dreamed. Oh! if I could some time have +just such a home! and doctor, look! What does make that water go up in +the air so? Is it what they call a fountain?" + +In her excitement Maddy had risen, and with one hand resting on the +doctor's shoulder, was looking around her eagerly. Guy Remington +would have laughed, and been gratified, too, could he have heard the +enthusiastic praises heaped upon his home by the little schoolgirl as +she drove up to his door. But Guy was away in the dusty cars, and only +Jessie stood on the piazza to receive her teacher. There were warm +words of welcome, kisses and hugs; and then Jessie led her friend to the +chamber she was to occupy. + +"Mother wanted you to sleep the other side of the house, but Brother +Guy said no, you should have a pleasant room; and when Guy says a thing, +it's so. It's nice in here, and close to me. See, I'm right here," and +Jessie opened a door leading directly to her own sleeping room. + +"Here's one trunk," she continued, as a servant brought up and set down, +a little contemptuously, the small hair-cloth box containing Maddy's +wardrobe. "Here's one; where's the rest?" and she was flying after Tom, +when Maddy stopped her, saying: + +"I have but one--that's all." + +"Only that little, teenty thing? How funny. Why, mamma carried three +most as big as my bed to Saratoga. You can't have many dresses. What are +you going to wear to dinner?" + +"I've been to dinner." And Maddy looked up in some surprise. + +"You have! We never have it till five, when Guy is at home; but now they +are gone, Mrs. Noah says we will have it at one, as folks ought to do. +To-day I coaxed her to wait till you come, and the table is all set out +so nicely for two. Can you carve, and do you like green turtle soup?" + +Maddy was bewildered, but managed to reply that she could not carve, +that she never saw any green turtle soup, and that she supposed she +should wear to dinner the delaine she had on. "Why, we always change, +even Mrs. Noah," Jessie exclaimed, bending over the open trunk and +examining its contents. + +Two calicoes, a blue muslin, a gingham and another delaine, beside the +one she had on. That was the sum total of Maddy's wardrobe, and Jessie +glanced at it a little ruefully as Maddy carefully shook out the nicely +folded dresses and laid them upon the bed. Here Mrs. Noah was heard +calling Jessie, who ran away leaving Maddy alone for a moment. + +Maddy had seen the look Jessie gave her dresses, and for the first time +there dawned upon her mind the possibility that her plain apparel, and +ignorance of the ways of Aikenside might be to her the cause of much +mortification. + +"And grandma said they were so nice, too--doing them up so carefully," +she said, her lip beginning to quiver, and her eyes filling with tears, +as thoughts of home came rushing over her. + +She could not force them back, and laying her head upon the top of the +despised hair trunk, she sobbed aloud. Guy Remington's private room was +in that hall, and as the doctor knew a book was to have been left there +for him, he took the liberty of getting it; passing Maddy's door he +heard the low sound of weeping, and looking in, saw her where she sat or +rather knelt upon the floor. + +"Homesick so soon!" he said, advancing to her side, and then amid a +torrent of tears, the whole came out. + +Maddy never could do as they did there, and everybody would laugh at her +so for an awkward thing; she never knew that folks ate dinner at five +instead of twelve--she should surely starve to death--she couldn't +carve--she could not eat mud-turtle soup, and she did not know which +dress to wear for dinner--would the doctor tell her? There they were, +and she pointed to the bed, only five, and she knew Jessie thought it so +mean. + +Such was the substance of Maddy's passionate outpouring of her griefs +to the highly perplexed doctor, who, after quieting her somewhat, +ascertained that the greatest present trouble was the deciding what +dress was suitable to the occasion. The doctor had never made dress his +study, but as it happened he liked blue, and so suggested it, as the one +most likely to be becoming. + +"That!" and Maddy looked confounded. "Why, grandma never let me wear +that, except on Sunday; that's my very best dress." + +"Poor child; I'm not sure it was right for you to come here where the +life is so different from the quiet, unpretentious one you have led," +the doctor thought, but he merely said: "It's my impression they wear +their best dresses here, all the time." + +"But what will I do when that's worn out! Oh, dear, dear, I wish I had +not come!" and another impetuous fit of weeping ensued, in the midst of +which Jessie came back, greatly disturbed on Maddy's account, and asking +eagerly what was the matter. + +Very adroitly the doctor managed to draw Jessie aside, while as well as +he was able he gave her a few hints with regard to her intercourse with +Maddy, and Jessie, who seemed intuitively to understand him, went back +to the weeping girl, soothing her much as a little mother would have +soothed her child. They would have such nice times, when Maddy got used +to their ways, which would not take long, and nobody would laugh at her, +she said, when Maddy expressed her fears on that point. "You are too +pretty even if you do make mistakes!" and then she went into ecstasies +over the blue muslin, which was becoming to Maddy, and greatly enhanced +her girlish beauty. The tear stains were all washed away, Jessie using +very freely her mother's _eau-de-cologne_, and making Maddy's cheeks +very red with rubbing, the nut-brown hair was brushed until it shone +like satin, a little narrow band of black velvet ribbon was pinned about +Maddy's snowy neck, and then she was ready for that terrible ordeal, her +first dinner at Aikenside. The doctor was going to stay, and this helped +to relieve her somewhat. + +"You must come to the housekeeper's room and see her first," Jessie +said, and with a beating heart and brain bewildered by the elegancies +which met her at every turn, Maddy followed to where the dreaded Mrs. +Noah, in rustling back silk and a thread lace collar, sat sewing and +greatly enjoying the leisure she had in her master's absence. + +Mrs. Noah knew who Maddy was, remembering the old man said that she +would not disgrace a drawing-room as fine as that at Aikenside. She had +discovered, too, that Mrs. Agnes was opposed to her coming, that only +Guy's determined will had brought her there; and this, if nothing else, +had disposed her to feel kindly toward the little governess. She had +expected to see her rather pretty, but was not prepared to find her what +she was. Maddy's was a singular type of beauty--a beauty untarnished by +any selfish, uncharitable, or suspicious feeling. Clear and truthful +as a mirror, her brown eyes looked into Mrs. Noah's, while her low +courtesy--so full of deference, found its way straight to that motherly +heart. + +"I am glad to see you, Miss Clyde," she said, "very glad." + +Maddy's lip quivered a little and her voice shook as she replied: + +"Please call me Maddy. They do at home, and I shan't be quite so--so--" + +She could not say "homesick," lest she should break out again into a +fit of crying, but Mrs. Noah understood her, and remembering her own +experience when first she went from home, she involuntarily stooped to +kiss the pure, white forehead of the girl, who henceforth was sure of +one friend at least at Aikenside. + +The dinner was a success, so far as Maddy was concerned. Not a single +mistake did she perpetrate, though her cheeks burned painfully as she +felt the eyes of the polite waiters fixed so often upon her, and fancied +they might be laughing at her. But they were not, and thanks to the +kind-hearted Guy, they thought of her only with respect, as one who was +their superior and must be treated accordingly. Knowing how different +everything was at Aikenside from that to which she had been accustomed, +Guy, with the thoughtfulness natural to him, had taken the precaution +of speaking to each of the servants concerning Miss Clyde, Jessie's +teacher. As he could not be there himself when she first came it would +devolve upon them, more or less, to make it pleasant for her by kind, +civil attentions, he said, hinting at the dire displeasure sure to fall +on any one who should be guilty of a misdemeanor in that direction. To +Paul, the coachman, he had been particular in his charges, telling him +who Maddy was, and arguing that from the insolence once given to the +grandfather the offender was bound to be more polite to the grandchild. +The carriage was to be at hers and Jessie's command, Paul never refusing +a reasonable request to drive the young ladies when and where they +wished to go, while a pretty little black pony, recently broken to the +saddle for Agnes, was to be at Miss Clyde's service, if she chose to +have it. As Guy's slightest wish was always obeyed, Maddy's chances for +happiness were not small, notwithstanding that she felt so desolate and +lonely when the doctor left her, and standing by Jessie she watched +him with a swelling heart until he was lost to view in the deepening +twilight. + +Feeling that she must be homesick, Mrs. Noah suggested that she try the +fine piano in the little music-room. + +"Maybe you can't play, but you can drum 'Days of Absence,' as most girls +do," and opening the lid she bade Maddy "thump as long as she liked." + +Music was a delight to Maddy, who coveted nothing so much as a knowledge +of it, and sitting down upon the stool, she touched the soft-toned +instrument, ascertaining by her far several sweet chords, and greatly +astonishing Jessie, who wondered at her skill. Twice each week a teacher +came up from Devonshire to give lessons to Jessie, but as yet she could +only play one scale and a few simple bars. These she attempted to teach +to Maddy, who caught at them so quickly and executed them so well that +Jessie was delighted. Maddy ought to take lessons, she said, and some +time during the next day she took to Mrs. Noah a letter which she had +written to Guy. After going into ecstasies over Maddy, saying she was +the nicest kind of a girl, that she prayed in the morning as well as at +night, and looked so sweet in blue, she asked if she couldn't take music +lessons, too, advancing many reasons why she should, one of which was +that she could play now a great deal better than herself. + +It was several days before an answer came to this letter, and when it +did it brought Guy's consent for Maddy to take lessons, together with a +note for Mr. Simons, requesting him to consider Miss Clyde his pupil, on +the same terms with Jessie. + +Though greatly pleased with Aikenside, and greatly attached to Jessie, +Maddy had had many hours of loneliness when her heart was back in the +humble cottage where she knew they were missing her so much, but now +a new world, a world of music, was suddenly opened before her, and the +homesickness all disappeared. It had been arranged with Mrs. Noah, +by Agnes, that Jessie should only study for two hours each day, +consequently Maddy had nearly all the time to herself, and well did +she improve it, making so rapid progress that Simons looked on amazed +declaring her case to be without a parallel, while Jessie was left far +behind. Indeed, after a short time Maddy might have been her teacher, +and was of much service to her in practicing her lessons. + +Meanwhile the doctor came often to Aikenside, praising Maddy's progress +in music, and though he did not know a single note, compelling himself +to listen while with childlike satisfaction she played him her last +lesson. She was very happy now at Aikenside, where all were so kind to +her, and half wished that the family would always remain as it was then, +that Agnes and Guy would not come home, for with their coming she felt +there would be a change. It was nearly time now to expect them. Indeed, +Guy had written on one Saturday that they should probably be home +the next, and during the ensuing week Aikenside presented that most +uncomfortable phase of a house being cleaned. Everything must be in +order for Mr. Guy, Mrs. Noah said, taking more pains with his rooms than +with the remaining portion of the building. Guy was her idol; nothing +was too good for him, few things quite good enough, and she said so much +in his praise that Maddy began to shrink from meeting him. What would +he think of her? Perhaps he might not notice her in the least, and that +would be terrible. But, no, a man as kind as he had shown himself to +her, would at least pay her some attention, and so at last she began to +anticipate his coming home, wondering what their first meeting would be, +what she should say to him, and what he would think of her. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. -- GUY AT HOME. + + +Saturday came at last, a balmy September day, when all nature seemed +conspiring to welcome the travelers for whom so extensive preparations +were making at Aikenside. They were expected at about six in the +afternoon, and just before that hour the doctor rode up to be in +readiness to meet them. In the dining-room the table was set as Maddy +had never seen it set before, making, with its silver, its china, and +cut-glass, a glittering display. There was Guy's seat as carver, with +Agnes at the urn, while Maddy felt sure that the two plates between +Agnes and Guy were intended for Jessie and herself, the doctor occupying +the other side. Jessie would sit next her mother, which would leave her +near to Guy, where he could see every movement she made. Would he think +her awkward, or would he, as she hoped, be so much absorbed with the +doctor as not to notice her? Suppose she should drop her fork, or upset +one of those queer-looking goblets, more like bowls than anything else? +It would be terrible, and Maddy's cheeks tingled at the very thought +of such a catastrophe. Were they goblets really, those funny colored +things, and if they were not, what were they? Summoning all her courage, +she asked the doctor, her prime counselor, and learned that they were +the finger-glasses, of which she had read, but which she had never seen +before. + +"Oh, must I use them?" she asked, in so evident distress that the doctor +could not forbear a laugh as he told her it was not of the slightest +consequence whether she used them or not, advising her to watch Mrs. +Agnes, who was _au fait_ in all such matters. + +Six o'clock came, but no travelers. Then an hour went by, and there came +a telegram that the cars had broken down and would not probably arrive +until late in the night, if indeed they did till morning. Greatly +disappointed, the doctor, after dinner, took his leave, telling the +girls they had better not sit up. Consequently, at a late hour they both +retired, sleeping so soundly as not to near the noise outside the house; +the banging of doors, the setting down of trunks, the tramp of feet, +Mrs. Noah's words of welcome, one pleasant voice which responded, and +another more impatient one which sounded as if its owner were tired and +cross. + +Agnes and Guy had come. As a whole, Agnes' season at Saratoga had been +rather disagreeable. Guy, it is true had been exceedingly kind. She had +been flattered by brainless fops. She had heard herself called "that +beautiful Mrs. Remington," and "that charming young widow," but no +serious attentions had been paid, no millionaire had asked to be her +second husband. If there had, she would have said yes, for Agnes was not +averse to changing her state of widowhood. She liked the doctor, but +if he did not propose, and some other body did, she should accept that +other body, of course. This was her intention when she left Aikenside, +and when she came back, it was with the determination to raise the siege +at once, and compel the doctor to surrender. She knew he was not +wealthy as she could wish, but his family were the Holbrooks, and as she +positively liked him, she was prepared to waive the matter of money. In +this state of mind it is not surprising that the morning of the +return home she should listen with a troubled mind to Jessie's rather +exaggerated account of the number of times the doctor had been there, +and the nice things he had said to her and Maddy. + +"He had visited them ever so much, staying ever so long. I know Maddy +likes him; I do, anyway," Jessie said, never dreaming of the passion +she was exciting, jealousy of Maddy, hatred of Maddy, and a desire to be +revenged on a girl whom Dr. Holbrook visited "ever so much." + +What was she that he should care for her? A mere nothing--a child, whom +Guy had taken up. Pity there was a Lucy Atherstone in the way of his +making her mistress of Aikenside. It would be a pretty romance, Guy +Remington and Grandpa Markham's grandchild. Agnes was nervous and tired, +and this helped to increase her anger toward the innocent girl. She +would take immediate measures, she thought, to put the upstart down, and +the sight of Flora laying the cloth for breakfast suggested to her the +first step in teaching Maddy her place. + +"Flora," she said, "I notice you are arranging the table for four. Have +we company?" + +"Why, no, ma'am; there's Mr. Guy, yourself, Miss Jessie, and Miss +Clyde," was Flora's reply, while Agnes continued haughtily: "Remove Miss +Clyde's plate. No one allows their governess to eat with them." + +"But, ma'am," and Flora hesitated, "she's very pretty, and ladylike, and +young; she has always eaten with Miss Jessie and Dr. Holbrook when he +was here. He treats her as if she was good as anybody." + +In her eagerness to serve Maddy and save her from insult, Flora was +growing bold, but she only hurt the cause by mentioning the doctor. +Agnes was determined now, and she replied: + +"It was quite right when we were gone, but it is different now, and Mr. +Remington, I am sure, will not suffer it." + +"Might I ask him?" Flora persisted, her hand still on the plate. + +"No," Agnes would attend to that, and also see Miss Clyde. All Flora +had to do was to remove the plate, which she finally did, muttering to +herself: "Such airs! but I know Mr. Guy won't stand it." + +Meantime Maddy had put on her prettiest delaine, tied her little dainty +black silk apron, Mrs. Noah's gift, and with the feeling that she was +looking unusually well, started for the parlor to meet her employer, +Mrs. Agnes. Jessie had gone in quest of her brother, and thus Agnes was +alone when Maddy Clyde first presented herself before her. She had +not expected to find Maddy so pretty, and for a moment the hot blood +crimsoned her cheek, while her heart throbbed wildly beneath the rich +morning dress. Dr. Holbrook had cause for being attracted by that fresh, +bright face, she thought, and so she steeled herself against the better +impulses of her nature, impulses which pleaded that for the sake of the +past she should be kind to Maddy Clyde. + +"Ah, good-morning. You are Jessie's governess, I presume," she said, +bowing distantly, and pretending not to notice the hand which Maddy +involuntarily extended toward her. "Jessie speaks well of you, and I am +very glad you suit her. You have had a pleasant time, I trust?" + +Her voice was so cold and her manner so distant that Maddy's eyes for +an instant filled with tears, but she answered civilly that she had been +very happy, and everybody was very kind. It was harder work to put +down Maddy Clyde than Agnes had expected, and after a little further +conversation there ensued a silence, which neither was inclined to +break. At last, summoning all her courage, Agnes began: + +"Excuse me, Miss Clyde, but your own good sense, of which I am sure you +have an abundance, must tell you that now Mr. Remington and myself are +at home, your intercourse with our family must be rather limited--that +is--ahem--that is, neither Mr. Remington nor myself are accustomed to +having our governess very much with us. I suppose you have had the range +of the parlors, sitting there when you liked, and all this was perfectly +proper. Mind, I am finding no fault with you. It is all quite right," +she continued, as she saw the strange look of terror and surprise +visible on Maddy's face. "The past is right, but in future it will be +a little different, I am willing to accord to a governess all the +privileges possible. They are human as well as myself, but society makes +a difference. Don't you know it does?" + +"Yes--no--I don't know. Oh, pray tell me what I am to do!" Maddy gasped, +her face as white as ashes, and her eyes wearing as yet only a scared, +uncertain look. + +With little, graceful tosses of the head, which set in motion every one +of the brown curls, Mrs. Agnes replied: + +"You are not, of course, to go to Mr. Remington. It is my matter, and +does not concern him. What I wish is this: You are to come to the +parlor only when invited, and are not to intrude upon us at any time, +particularly when company is here, such as--well, such as Dr. Holbrook, +if you please. As you cannot be with Jessie all the while, you will, +when your labors as governess are over, sit in your own room, or the +schoolroom, or walk in the back yard, just as the higher servants +do--such as Mrs. Noah and the sewing girl, Sarah. Occasionally we shall +have you in to dine with us, but usually you will take your meals with +Mrs. Noah and Sarah. By following these directions you will, I think, +give entire satisfaction." + +When Mrs. Agnes had finished this, Maddy began to understand her +position, and into her white face the hot blood poured indignantly. +Wholly inexperienced, she had never dreamed that a governess was not +worthy to sit at the same table with her employer, that she must never +enter the parlors unbidden, or intrude herself in any way. No wonder +that her cheeks burned at the degradation, or that, for an instant, +she felt like defying the proud woman to her face. But the angry +words trembling on her tongue were repressed as she remembered her +grandfather's teachings; and with a bow as haughty as any Mrs. Agnes +could have made, and a look on her face which could not easily be +forgotten, she left the room, and in a kind of stunned bewilderment +sought the garden, where she could, unseen, give way to her feelings. + +Once alone, the torrent burst forth, and burying her face in the soft +grass, she wept bitterly, never hearing the step coming near, and not at +first heeding the voice which asked what was the matter. Guy Remington, +too, had come out into the garden, accidentally wandering that way, and +so stumbling upon the little figure crying in the grass. He knew it +was Maddy, and greatly surprised to find her thus, asked what was the +matter. Then, as she did not hear him, he laid his hand gently upon her +shoulder, compelling her to look up. In all her imaginings of Guy, she +had never associated him with the man who had so puzzled and confused +her, and now she did not for a time suspect the truth. She only thought +him a guest at Aikenside; some one come with Guy, and her degradation +seemed greater than before. She was not surprised when he called her +by name; of course he remembered her, just as she did him; but she did +wonder a little what Mrs. Agnes would say, could she know how kindly +he spoke to her, lifting her from the grass and leading her to a rustic +seat at no great distance from them. + +"Now, tell me why you are crying so?" he said, brushing from her silk +apron the spot of dirt which had settled upon it. "Are you homesick?" he +continued, and then Maddy burst out again. + +She forgot that he was a stranger, forgot everything except that he +sympathized with her. + +"Oh, sir," she sobbed, "I was so happy here till they came home, +Mrs. Remington and Mr. Guy. I never thought it was a disgrace to be +a governess; never heard it was so considered, or that I was not good +enough to eat with them till she told me this. Oh, dear, dear!" and +choked with tears Maddy stopped a moment to take breath. + +She did not look up at the young man beside her, and it was well she did +not, for the dark expression of his face would have frightened her. Half +guessing the truth, and impatient to hear more, he said to her: + +"Go on," so sternly, that she started, and replied: + +"I know you are angry with me and I ought not to have told you." + +"I am not angry--not at you at least--go on," was Guy's reply, and Maddy +continued: + +"She told me that now they had come home it would be different, that +only when invited must I come to the parlor, or anywhere, but must stay +in the servants' part, and eat with Mrs. Noah and Sarah. I'd just as +soon do that. I am no better than they, only, only--the way she told +me made me feel so mean, as if I was not anybody, when I am," and here +Maddy's pride began to rise. "I'm just as good as she, if grandpa is +poor, and I won't stay here to be treated like a nigger by her and Mr. +Guy. I liked him so much too, because he was kind to grandpa and to me +when I was sick. Yes, I did like him so much." + +"And how is it now?" Guy asked, wondering who in the world she thought +he was. "How is it now?" + +"I s'pose it's wicked to feel such things on Sunday, but, somehow, what +she said keeps making me so bad that I know I hate her, and I guess I +hate Mr. Guy!" + +This was Maddy's answer, spoken deliberately, while she looked up at +the young man, who, with a comical expression about his mouth, answered +back: + +"I am Mr. Guy." "You, you! Oh, I can't bear it! I will die!" and Maddy +sprang up as quickly as if feeling an electric shock. + +But Guy's arm was interposed to stop her, and Guy's arm held her back, +while he asked where she was going. + +"Anywhere, out of sight where you can never see me again," Maddy sobbed +vehemently. "It is bad enough to have you think me a fool, as you must; +but now, oh what do you think of me?" + +"Nothing bad, I assure you," Guy said, still holding her wrist to keep +her there. "I supposed you knew who I was, but as you did not, I forgive +you for hating me so cordially. If you thought I sanctioned what Mrs. +Remington has said to you, you had cause to dislike me, but Miss Clyde, +I do not, and this is the first intimation I have had that you were +to be treated other than as a lady. I am master of Aikenside, not Mrs. +Agnes, who shall be made to understand it." + +"Oh, please don't quarrel about me. Let me go home, and then all will +be well," Maddy cried, feeling, at that moment, more averse to leaving +Aikenside than she could have thought it possible. + +"We shall not quarrel, but I shall have my way; meanwhile go to your +room and stay there until told that I have sent for you." + +They went to the house together, but separated in the hall; Maddy +repairing to her room, while Guy sought Mrs. Agnes. The moment she +saw his face she knew a storm was coming, but was not prepared for the +biting sarcasm and bitter reproaches heaped upon her by one who, when +roused, was a perfect hurricane. + +Maybe she had forgotten what she was when his father married her, he +said, but he had not, and he remembered well the wonder expressed by +many that his father should stoop to marry a poor school teacher. "Yes, +that's what you were, madam, much as you despise Maddy Clyde for being a +governess; you were one once yourself, and before that time mercy knows +what you were--a hired girl, perhaps--your present airs would seem to +warrant as much!" + +Guy was in a sad passion by this time, and failed to note the effect +his last words had on Agnes, who turned livid with rage and terror; but +smothering down her wrath, she said beseechingly: + +"Pray, Guy, do not be so angry; I know I am foolish about some things, +and proud people who 'come up' as you say always are, I guess; I know +that marrying your father made me what I am, but everybody does not know +it, and it is not necessary they should. I don't remember exactly what +I did say to this Clyde girl, but I thought it would be pleasanter for +you, pleasanter for us all, not to have her always around; it seems she +has presided at the table when Dr. Holbrook was here to tea, and even +you can't think that quite right." + +"I don't know why," and at mention of Dr. Holbrook Guy's temper burst +out again. "Agnes, you can't deceive me; I know the secret of your +abominable treatment of Maddy Clyde is jealousy." + +"Guy--jealous, I jealous of that child;" and Agnes' voice was expressive +of the utmost consternation. + +"Yes, jealous of that child; you think that because the doctor has been +kind to her, perhaps he wants her some time for his wife. I hope he +does; I mean to help it on; I'll tell him to have her, and if he don't +I'll almost marry her myself!" and Guy paced up and down the parlor, +chafing and foaming like a young lion. + +Agnes was conquered, and quite as much bewildered as Maddy had been; she +heard only in part how Maddy Clyde was henceforth to be treated. + +"Yes, yes," she gasped at last, as Guy talked on, "stop now, for mercy's +sake, and I'll do anything, only not this morning, my head aches so I +cannot go to the breakfast table; I must be excused," and holding her +temples, which were throbbing with pain, induced by strong excitement, +Agnes hurried to her own room and threw herself upon the bed, angry, +mortified and subdued. + +The breakfast bell had rung twice while Guy was holding that interview +with Agnes, and at last Mrs. Noah came up herself to learn the cause of +the delay; standing in the hall she heard a part of what was transpiring +in the parlor. Mrs. Noah was proud and jealous of her master's dignity, +and once or twice the thought had crossed her mind that perhaps when he +came home Maddy would be treated more as some governesses were treated +by their employers, but to have Agnes take the matter up was quite a +different thing, and Mrs. Noah smiled with grim satisfaction, as +she heard Guy issuing orders as to how Miss Clyde should be treated. +Standing back to let Agnes pass, she waited a moment, and then, as if +she had just come up, presented herself before Guy, asking if he were +ready for breakfast. + +"Yes, call Miss Clyde; tell her I sent for her," was Guy's answer, and +forthwith Mrs. Noah repaired to Maddy's room, finding her still sobbing +bitterly. + +"I cannot go down," she said; "my face is all stains, and it's so +dreadful, happening on Sunday, too. What would grandpa say?" + +"You can wash off the stains. Come," Mrs. Noah said, pouring water into +the bowl, and bidding Maddy hurry, "as Mr. Guy was waiting breakfast for +her." + +"But I am not to eat with them," Maddy began, when Mrs. Noah stopped her +by explaining how Guy ruled that house, and Agnes had been completely +routed. + +This did not quiet Maddy particularly, and her heart beat painfully as +she descended to the parlor, where Guy was still walking up and down. + +"Come, Miss Clyde, Jessie is nearly famished," he said pleasantly, as +Maddy appeared, and without the slightest reference to what had passed +he drew Maddy's arm within his own, and giving a hand to Jessie, who +had just come in, he went to the breakfast room, where Maddy was told to +preside. + +Guy watched her closely without seeming to do so, mentally deciding that +she was neither vulgar nor awkward. On the contrary, he thought her very +pretty, and very graceful for one so unaccustomed to society. Nothing +was said of Agnes, who kept her room the entire day, and did not join +the family until evening, when Guy sat upon the piazza with Jessie in +his lap, while Maddy was not very far away. At first there was much +constraint between Agnes and Maddy, but with Guy to manage, it soon wore +away, and Agnes felt herself exceedingly amiable when she reflected how +gracious she had been to her rival. + +But Maddy could not so soon forget. All through the day the conviction +had been settling upon her that she could not stay at Aikenside, and so +on the following morning, just after breakfast was over, she summoned +courage to ask Mr. Guy if she might talk with film. Leading the way to +his library, he bade her sit down, while he took the chair opposite, and +then waited for her to commence. + +Maddy was afraid of Guy. He did not seem quite like Dr. Holbrook. He was +haughtier in his appearance, while his rather elaborate style of dress +and polished manners gave him, in her estimation, a kind of superiority +over all the men she had ever met. Besides that, she remembered how his +dark eyes had flashed when she told him what she did the previous day, +and also that she had said to his face that she hated him. She could not +bear to leave a bad impression on his mind, so the first words she said +to him were: + +"Mr. Remington, I can't stay here after all that has happened. It would +not be pleasant for me or Mrs. Agnes, so I am going home, but I want you +to forget what I said about hating you yesterday. I did not then know +who you were. I don't hate you. I like you, and I want you to like me." + +She did not look at him, for her eyelids were cast down, and her lashes +were wet with the tears she could scarcely keep from shedding. Guy had +never known much about girls of Maddy's age, and there was something +extremely fascinating in the artless simplicity of this half child, half +woman, sitting there before him, and asking him so demurely to like her. +She was very pretty, he thought, and with proper culture would make a +beautiful woman. Then, as he remembered his avowed intention of urging +the doctor to make her his wife some day, the idea flashed upon him that +it would be very generous, very magnanimous in him to educate that young +girl expressly for the doctor, and though he hardly seemed to wait +at all ere replying to Maddy, he had in the brief interval formed a +skeleton plan, and saw it in all its bearings and triumphal result. + +"I am much obliged for your liking me," he said, a very little +mischievously. "You surely have not much reason so to do when you recall +the incidents of our first interview. Maddy--Miss Clyde--I have come to +the conclusion that I knew less than you did, and I beg your pardon for +annoying you so terribly." + +Then briefly Guy explained to her how it all had happened, blaming +himself far more than he did the doctor, who, he said, had repented +bitterly. "Had you died, Miss Clyde, when you were so sick, I half +believe he would have felt it his duty to die also. He likes you very +much; more indeed than any patient I ever knew him to have," and Guy's +eyes glanced curiously at Maddy to witness the effect his words might +have upon her. But Maddy merely answered: + +"Yes, I think he does like me, and I know I like him." + +Mentally chastising himself for trying to find in Maddy's head an idea +which evidently never was there, he began to speak of her proposition +of leave, saying he should not suffer it, Jessie needed her and she must +stay. She was not to mind the disagreeable things Mrs. Remington +had said. She was tired and nervous, and so gave way to some very +preposterous notions, which she had picked up somewhere. She would treat +Maddy better hereafter, and she must stay. It was pleasanter for Jessie +to have a companion so near her own age. Then, as he saw signs of +yielding in Maddy's face, he continued: + +"How would you like to turn scholar for a short time each day, I being +your teacher? Time often hangs heavily upon my hands, and I fancy the +novelty of the thing would suit me. I have books. I will appoint your +lessons and the hour for recitation." + +Guy's face was scarlet by the time he finished speaking, for suddenly he +remembered to have heard or read of a similar instance which resulted in +the marriage of the teacher and pupil; besides that it would subject +him to so much remark, when it was known that he, the fashionable and +fastidious Guy, was teaching a pretty, attractive girl like Maddy +Clyde, and he sincerely hoped she would decline. But Maddy had no such +intention. Always in earnest herself, she supposed every one else meant +what they said, and without ever suspecting the peculiar position in +which such a proceeding would place both herself and Guy, her heart +leaped up at the idea of knowing what was in the books she had never +dared hope she might study. With her beautiful eyes full of tears, which +shone like diamonds, as she lifted them to Guy's face, she said: + + "Oh, I thank you so much. You could not make me happier, and I'll try +so hard to learn. They don't teach such things at the district school; +and when there was a high school in Honedale I could not go, for it was +three dollars a quarter, and grandpa had no three dollars for me. Uncle +Joseph needed help, and so I stayed at home. It's dreadful to be poor, +but, perhaps, I shall some time be competent to teach in a seminary, and +won't that be grand? When may I begin?" + +Guy had never met with so much frankness and simplicity in any one, +unless it were in Lucy Atherstone, of whom Maddy reminded him somewhat, +except that the latter was more practical, more--he hardly knew +what--only there was a difference, and a thought crossed his mind that +if Maddy had had all Lucy's advantages, and was as old, she would be +what the world calls smarter. There was no disparagement to Lucy in his +thoughts, only a compliment to Maddy, who was waiting for him to answer +her question. There was no retracting now; he had offered his services; +she had accepted; and with a mental comment: "I dread Doc's fun the +most, so I'll explain to him how I am educating her for the future Mrs. +Dr. Holbrook," he replied: + +"As soon as I am rested from my journey, or sooner, if you like; and now +tell me, please, who is this Uncle Joseph of whom you speak?" + +He remembered what the doctor had said of a crazy uncle, but wishing to +hear Maddy's version of it, put to her the question he did. + +"Uncle Joseph is grandma's youngest brother," Maddy answered, "and he +has been in the lunatic asylum for years. As long as his little property +lasted, his bills were paid, but now they keep him from charity, only +grandpa helps all he can, and buys some little nice things which he +wants so badly, and sometimes cries for, they say. I picked berries all +last summer, and sold to buy him a thin coat and pants. We should have +more to spend than we do, if it were not for Uncle Joseph," and Maddy's +face wore a thoughtful expression as she recalled all the shifts +and turns she'd seen made at home that the poor maniac might be more +comfortable. + +"What made him crazy?" Guy asked, and after a moment's hesitancy Maddy +replied: "I don't believe grandma would mind my telling you, though +she don't talk about it much. I only knew it a little while ago. He was +disappointed once. He loved a girl very much, and she made him think +that she loved him. She was many years younger than Uncle Joseph--about +my age at first, and when she grew up she said she was sick of him, +because he was so much older. He wouldn't have felt so badly, if she had +not gone straight off and married a rich man who was a great deal older +even than Uncle Joseph; that was the hardest part, and he grew crazy +at once. It has been so long that he never can be helped, and sometimes +grandma talks of bringing him home, as he is perfectly harmless. I +suppose it's wicked, but I most hope she won't, for it would be terrible +to live with a crazy man," and a chill crept over Maddy, as if there had +fallen upon her a foreshadowing of what might yet be. "Mr. Remington," +she continued suddenly, "if you teach me, I can't, of course, expect +three dollars a week. It would not be right." + +"Perfectly right," he answered. "Your services to Jessie will be worth +just as much as ever, so give yourself no trouble on that score." + +He was the best man that ever lived, Maddy thought, and so she told the +doctor that afternoon when, as he rode up to Aikenside, she met him out +on the lawn before he reached the house. + +It did strike the doctor a little comically that one of Guy's habits +should offer to turn school teacher, but Maddy was so glad, that he +was glad too, and doubly glad that across the sea there was a Lucy +Atherstone. How he wished that she was there now as Mrs. Guy, and he +must tell Guy so that very day. Seated in Guy's library, the opportunity +soon occurred, Guy approaching the subject himself by saying: + +"Guess, Hal, what crazy project I have just embarked in." + +"I know without guessing; Maddy told me," and the doctor's eyebrows were +elevated just a little as he crossed his feet upon the window sill and +moved his chair so as to have a better view of Maddy and Jessie romping +in the grass. + +"And so you don't approve?" was Guy's next remark, to which the doctor +replied: + +"Why, yes; it's a grand thing for her, providing you know enough to +teach her; but, Guy, this is a confounded gossiping neighborhood, and +folks will talk, I'm afraid." + +"Talk about what!" and Guy bridled up as his independent spirit began to +rise, "What harm is there in my doing a generous act to a poor girl like +Maddy Clyde? Isn't she graceful as a kitten, though?" and Guy nodded +toward the spot where she was playing. + +It annoyed the doctor to have Guy praise Maddy, but he would not show +it, and answered calmly: + +"It's all right in you, but just because the poor girl is Maddy Clyde, +folks will talk. She is too handsome, Guy, for Madam Grundy to let +alone. If Lucy were only here, it would be different. Why, in the name +of wonder, are you two not married, if you are ever going to be?" + +"Jealous, as I live!" and Guy's hand came down playfully on the doctor's +shoulder. "I did not suppose you had got as far as that. You are afraid +of the effect it may have on me teaching a sweet-faced little girl how +to conjugate amo; and to cover up your own interest, you bring Lucy +forward as an argument. Eh, Hal, have I not probed the secret?" + +The doctor was in no mood for joking, and only smiled gloomily, while +Guy continued: + +"Honestly, doctor, I am doing it for you. I imagine you fancy her, as +well you may. She'll make a splend'd woman, but she needs educating, +of course, and I am going to do it. You ought to thank me, instead of +looking so like a thundercloud," and Guy laughed merrily. + +The doctor was ashamed of his mood, and could not tell what spirit +prompted him to answer: + +"I am obliged to you, Guy; but as far as I am concerned, you may spare +yourself the trouble. If my wife needs educating, I can do it myself." + +Guy was puzzled. Could it be that, after all, he was deceived, and the +doctor did not care for Maddy? It might be, and he hastened to change +the conversation to another topic than Maddy Clyde. The doctor stayed to +dinner, and as Guy watched him closely, he made up his mind that he did +care for Maddy Clyde, and this confirmed him in his plan of educating +her for him. + +Magnanimous Guy! He felt himself very good, very generous, very +condescending, and very forgiving, the early portion of the afternoon; +but later in the day he began to view Guy Remington in the light of a +martyr, said martyrdom consisting in the scornful toss of the head with +which Agnes had listened to his plan, and the open opposition of Mrs. +Noah. + +"Was he beside himself, or what?" this worthy asked. "She liked Maddy +Clyde, to be sure, but it wasn't for him to demean himself by turning +her school master. Folks would talk awfully, and she couldn't blame 'em; +besides, what would Lucy say to his bein' alone in a room with a girl as +pretty as Maddy? It was a duty he owed her at any rate to tell her all +about it, and if she said 'twas right, why, go it." + +This was the drift of Mrs. Noah's remarks, and as Guy depended much +on her judgment, he decided to write to Lucy to see if she had the +slightest objections to his teaching Maddy Clyde. Accordingly he wrote +that very night, telling her frankly all he knew concerning Maddy Clyde, +and narrating the circumstances under which he first had met her, being +careful also to repeat what he knew would have weight with an English +girl like Lucy, to wit, that though poor, Maddy's father and grandfather +Clyde had been gentlemen, the one a clergyman, the other a sea captain. +Then he told of her desire for learning, and his plan to teach her +himself, of what the doctor and Mrs. Noah said about it, and his final +determination to consult her. Then he described Maddy herself, feeling +a strange thrill as he told how pure, how innocent, how artless and +beautiful she was, and asked if Lucy feared aught from his association +with her. + +"If you do," he wrote, "you have but to say so, and though I am +committed, I will extricate myself in some way rather than wound you in +the slightest degree." + +It would be some time ere an answer to this letter could be received, +and until such time Guy could not honorably hear Maddy's lessons as +he had agreed to do. But Maddy was not suspicious, and accepting his +trivial excuse, waited patiently, while he, too, waited for the letter, +wondering what it would contain. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. -- A GENEROUS LETTER. + + +At last the answer came, and it was Maddy who brought it to Guy. She had +been home that day, and on her return had ridden by the office as Guy +had requested her to do. She saw the letter bore a foreign postmark, +also that it was in the delicate handwriting of some female, but the +sight did not affect her in the least. Maddy's heart was far too heavy +that day to care for a trifle, and so placing the letter carefully in +her basket she kept on to Aikenside. + +The letter was decidedly Lucy-ish in all that pertained to her "dearest +darling," her "precious Guy," but when she came to Maddy Clyde, her +true, womanly nature spoke; and Guy, while reading it, felt how good she +was. Of course he might teach Maddy Clyde all he wished to teach her, +and it made Lucy love him better to know that he was willing to do such +things. She wished she was there to help him; they would open a school +for all the poor, but she did not know when mamma would let her come. +That pain in her side was not any better, and her cough had come earlier +this season than last. The physician had advised a winter in Naples, and +they were going before very long. It would be pleasant there, no doubt, +only she should be farther away from her boy Guy, but she would think of +him, oh, so often, teaching that dear little Maddy Clyde, and she would +pray for him, too, just as she always did. Then followed a few more +lines sacred to the lover's eye, lines which told how pure was the love +which sweet Lucy Atherstone bore for Guy Remington, who, as he read, +felt his heart beat with a throb of pain, for Lucy spoke to him now for +the first time of what might possibly be. + +"I've dreamed about it nights," she said. "I've thought about it days, +and tried so hard to be reconciled; to feel that if God will have it so, +I am willing to die before you have ever called me your little wife, or +I have ever called you husband. Heaven is better than earth, I know, +and I am sure of going there, I think, but oh, dear Guy, a life with you +looks so very sweet, that sometimes your little Lucy shrinks from the +dark grave, which would hide her forever from you. Guy, you once said +you never prayed, and it made me feel so badly, but you will, when you +get this, won't you? You will ask God to make me well, and may be He +will hear you. Do, Guy, please do pray for your Lucy, far away over the +sea." + +Guy could not resist that touching appeal, "to pray for his little +Lucy," and though his lips were all unused to prayer, bowing his head +upon his hands he did ask that she might live, beseeching the Father to +send upon him any calamity save this one--Lucy must be spared. Guy felt +better for having prayed, it was something to tell Lucy, something that +would please her well, and though his heart yet was very sad, a part of +the load was lifted, and he could think of Lucy now without the bitter +pain her letter first had cost him. Was there nothing that would save +her, nobody who could cure her? Her disease was not hereditary; surely +it might be made to yield; had English physicians no skill, would not an +American do better? It was possible, and if that mother of Lucy's would +let her come where doctors knew something, she might get well; but she +wouldn't; she was determined that no husband should be burdened with +an ailing wife, and so if the mountain would not come to Mahomet, why, +Mahomet must go to the mountain, and Guy fairly leaped from his chair as +he exclaimed: "I have it--Doc!--he's the most skillful man I ever knew; +I'll send him to England; send him to the Atherstones; he shall go to +Naples with them as their family physician; he can cure Lucy; I'll speak +to him the very next time he comes here;" and with another burden lifted +from his mind, Guy began to wonder where Maddy was, and why that day had +been so long. + +He knew she had returned, for Flora had said she brought the letter, +and he was about going out, in hopes of finding her and Jessie, when +he heard her in the hall, as she answered some question of Mrs. Noah's; +stepping to the door, he asked her to come in, saying he would, if she +chose, appoint the lessons talked about so long. Ordinarily, Maddy's +eyes would have flashed with delight, for she had anticipated so much +from these lessons; now, however, there was a sad look upon her face and +she could scarcely keep from crying as she came at Guy's bidding, and +sat upon the sofa, near to his armchair. Somehow it rested Guy to look +at Maddy Clyde, who, having recovered from her illness, seemed the very +embodiment of perfect health, a health which glowed and sparkled all +over her bright face; showing itself as well in the luxuriance of her +glossy hair as in the brilliancy of her complexion, and the flash of +her lustrous eyes. How Guy wished that Lucy could share in what seemed +almost superfluity of health; and why shouldn't she? Dr. Holbrook +had cured Maddy; Dr. Holbrook could cure Lucy; and so for the present +dismissing that from his mind, he turned to Maddy, and said the time +had come when he could give those promised lessons, asking if she would +commence to-morrow, after she was through with Jessie, and what she +would prefer to take up first? + +"Oh, Mr. Remington," and Maddy began to cry: "I am afraid I cannot stay +they need me at home, or maybe Grandpa said so and I don't want to go, +though I know it's wicked not to; oh, dear, dear!" + +Here Maddy broke down entirely, sobbing so convulsively that Guy became +alarmed, and wondered what he ought to do to quiet her. As she sat the +bowed head was just within his reach, and so he very naturally laid his +hand upon it, and as if it had been Jessie's smoothed the silken hair, +while he asked why she must go home. Had anything occurred to make her +presence more necessary than it was at Aikenside? and into the young +man's heart there crept a feeling that Aikenside would be very lonely +without Maddy Clyde. + +Controlling her voice as well as she was able, Maddy told him how the +physicians at the asylum had written that as Uncle Joseph would in all +human probability never be perfectly sane, and as a change of scene +would do him good, Mr. Markham had better try taking him a while; that +having been spoken with upon the subject, he seemed as anxious as a +little child, even crying when the night came around and he was not +at home, as he expressed it. "They have kept him so long," Maddy said, +"that grandpa thought it his duty to relieve them, though he can't well +afford it, and so he's coming next week, and grandma will need some one +to help, and I must go. I know it's wrong, but I do not want to go, try +as I will." + +It was a gloomy prospect to exchange Aikenside for the humble home where +poverty had its abode, and it was not very strange that Maddy should +shrink from it at first. She did not stop to ask what was her duty, or +think how much happiness her presence might give her grandparents, or +how much she might cheer and amuse the weak imbecile, her uncle. She was +but human, and so when Guy began to devise ways of preventing her going, +she listened, while the pain at her heart grew less as her faith in Guy +grew stronger. He would drive down with her to-morrow, he said, and see +what could be done. Meanwhile she must dry her eyes and go to Jessie, +who was calling her. + +As Guy had half expected, the doctor came around that evening, and +inviting him into his private room, Guy proceeded at once to unfold his +scheme, asking him first: + +"How much he probably received a year for his services as physician." + +The doctor could not tell at once, but after a little thought made an +estimate, and then inquired why Guy had asked the question. + +"Because, Doc, I have a project on foot. Lucy Atherstone is dying with +what they call consumption. I don't believe those old fogies understand +her disease, and if you will go over to England and undertake her cure, +I'll give you just double what you'll get by remaining here. They are +going to Naples for the winter, and, undoubtedly, will spend some time +in Paris. It will be just the thing for you. Lucy and her mother will +be glad of your services when they know I sent you, Lucy likes you now. +Will you go? You can trust Maddy to me. I'll take good care that she is +worthy of you when you come back." + +At the mention of Maddy's name, the doctor's brow darkened. He was sure +that Guy meant kindly, but it grated on his feelings to be thus joked +about what he knew was a stern reality. Guy's project appeared to him at +first a most insane one, but as he continued to enlarge upon it, and +the advantage it would be to the doctor to travel in the old world, a +feeling of enthusiasm was kindled in his own breast; a desire to visit +Naples and France, and the places he had dreamed of as a boy, but never +hoped to see, Guy's plan began to look more feasible, and possibly he +might have yielded but for one thought, and that a thought of Maddy +Clyde. He would not leave her alone with Guy, even though Guy was true +to Lucy as steel. He would stay; he would watch; and in time he would +win the young girl waiting now for him in the hall below, waiting to +tell him 'mid blushes of shame and tears of regret how she had meant +to pay him with her very first wages, but now, Uncle Joseph was coming +home, and he must wait a little longer. + +"Would he, could he be so good?" and unmindful of Guy's presence Maddy +laid her hand confidingly upon his arm, while her soft eyes looked +beseechingly into his. + +How the doctor wished Guy was away, and kindly taking the hint, Guy left +them together in the lighted hall. Sitting down on the sofa, and making +Maddy sit beside him, the doctor began: + +"Maddy, you know I mean what I say, at least to you, and when I tell you +that I never think of that bill except when you speak of it, you will +believe me. I know your grandfather's circumstances, and I know, too, +that I did much to induce your sickness, consequently if I made one out +at all, it would be a very small one." + +He did not get any further, for Maddy hastily interrupted him, and while +her eyes flashed with pride, exclaimed: + +"I will not be a charity patient! I say I will not! I'd be a hired girl +before I'd do it!" + +It troubled the doctor to see Maddy so disturbed about dollars and +cents--to know that poverty was pressing its iron hand upon her young +heart; and only because she was so young did he refrain from offering +her then and there a resting place from the ills of life in his +sheltering love. But she was not prepared, and he should only defeat his +object by his rashness, so he restrained himself, though he did pass his +arm partly around her waist as he said to her: + +"I tell you, Maddy, honestly, that when I want that bill liquidated +I'll ask you. I certainly will, and I'll let you pay it, too. Does that +satisfy you?" + +Yes, Maddy was satisfied, and after a little the doctor continued: + +"By the way, Maddy, I have some idea of going to Europe for a few +months, or a year or more. You know it does a physician good to study +awhile in Paris. What do you think of it? Shall I go?" + +The doctor had become quite necessary to Maddy's happiness. He it was +to whom she confided all her little troubles, and to lose him would be +a terrible loss, and so she answered that if it would be much better for +him she supposed he ought to go, though she should miss him sadly and be +so lonely without him. + +"Would you, Maddy? Are you in earnest? Would you be lonelier for my +being gone?" the doctor asked, eagerly. With her usual truthfulness, +Maddy replied: "Of course I should;" and, when, after the conference was +ended, the doctor stood for a moment talking with Guy, ere bidding +him good-night, he said: "I think I shall not accept your European +proposition. Somebody else must cure Lucy." + +The next day, as Guy had proposed, he rode down to Honedale, taking +Maddy with him, and offering so many reasons why she should not be +called home, that the old people began to relent, particularly as they +saw how Maddy's heart was set on the lessons Guy was going to give her. +She might never have a like opportunity, the young man said, and as a +good education would put her fa the way of helping them when they were +older and needed her more, it was their duty to leave her with them. He +knew they objected to her receiving three dollars a week, but he should +pay it just the same, and if they chose they might, with a part of it, +hire a little girl to do the work which Maddy would do were she at +home. All this sounded very feasible, especially as it was backed up +by Maddy's eyes, brimful of tears, and fixed pleadingly upon her +grandfather. The sight of them, more than Guy's arguments, influenced +the old man, who decided that if grandma were willing Maddy should stay, +unless absolutely needed at the cottage. Then the tears burst forth, +and winding her arms around her grandfather's neck, Maddy sobbed out +her thanks, asking if it were selfish and wicked and naughty in her to +prefer learning rather than staying there. + +"Not if that's your only reason," grandpa replied. "It's right to want +learning, quite right; but, if my child is biased by the fine things at +Aikenside, and hates to come back to her poor home, because 'tis poor, I +should say it was very natural, but not exactly right." + +Maddy was very happy after it was settled, and chatted gayly with her +grandmother, while Guy went out with her grandfather, who wished to +speak with him alone. + +"Young man," he said, "you have taken a deep interest in me and mine +since I first came to know you, and I thank you for it all. I've nothing +to give in return except my prayers, and those you have every day; you +and that doctor. I pray for you two just as I do for Maddy. Somehow you +three come in together. You're uncommon good to Maddy. 'Tain't every one +like you who would offer and insist on learning her. I don't know what +you do it for. You seem honest. You can't, of course, ever dream of +making her your wife, and, if I thought--yes, if I supposed"--here +grandpa's voice trembled, and his face became a livid hue with the +horror of the idea--"if I supposed that in your heart there was the +shadow of an intention to deceive my child, to ruin my Maddy, I'd +throttle you here on the spot, old as I am, and bitterly as I should +repent the rashness." + +Guy attempted to speak, but grandpa motioned him to be silent, while he +went on: + +"I do not suspect you, and that's why I trust her with you. My old +eyes are dim, but I can see enough to know that Maddy is beautiful. Her +mother was so before her, and the Clydes were a handsome race. My Alice +was elevated, folks thought, by marrying Captain Clyde, but I don't +think so. She was pure and good as the angels, and Maddy is much like +her, only she has the ambition of the Clydes: has their taste for +everything a little above her. She wouldn't make nobody blush if she was +mistress of Aikenside." + +Grandpa felt relieved when he had said all this to Guy, who listened +politely, smiling at the idea of his deceiving Maddy, and fully +concurring with grandpa in all he said of her rare beauty and natural +gracefulness. On their return to the house grandpa showed Guy the +bedroom intended for Uncle Joseph, and Guy, as he glanced at the +furniture, though within himself how he would send down from Aikenside +some of the unused articles piled away on the garret when he refurnished +his house. He was becoming greatly interested in the Markhams, caring +nothing for the remarks his interest might excite among the neighbors, +some of whom watched Maddy half curiously as in the stylish carriage, +beside its stylish owner, she rode back to Aikenside in the quiet, +autumnal afternoon. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. -- UNCLE JOSEPH. + + +In course of time Uncle Joseph came as was arranged, and on the day +following Maddy and Guy rode down to see him, finding him a tall, +powerfully built man, retaining many vestiges of manly beauty, and fully +warranting all Mrs. Markham had said in his praise. He seemed perfectly +gentle and harmless, though when Guy was announced as Mr. Remington, +Maddy noticed that in his keen black eyes there was for an instant a +fiery gleam, but it quickly passed away, as he muttered: + +"Much too young; he was older than I, and I am over forty. It's all +right." + +And the fiery eye grew soft and almost sleepy in its expression, as +the poor lunatic turned next to Maddy, telling her how pretty she was, +asking if she were engaged, and bidding her be careful that her _fiance_ +was not more than a dozen years older than herself. + +Uncle Joseph seemed to take to her from the very first, following her +from room to room, touching her fair, soft cheeks, smoothing her silken +hair, telling her Sarah's used to curl, asking if she knew where Sarah +was, and finally crying for her as a child cries for its mother, when at +last she went away. Much of this Maddy had repeated to Jessie, as in the +twilight they sat together in the parlor at Aikenside; and Jessie was +not the only listener, for, with her face resting on her hand, and her +head bent eagerly forward, Agnes sat, so as not to lose a word of what +Maddy was saying of Uncle Joseph. The intelligence that he was coming to +the red cottage had been followed with a series of headaches, so severe +and protracted that Dr. Holbrook had pronounced her really sick, and +had been unusually attentive. Anxiously she had waited for the result of +Maddy's visit to the poor lunatic, and her face was colorless as marble +as she heard him described, while a faint sigh escaped her when Maddy +told what he had said of Sarah. + +Agnes was changed somewhat of late. She had grown more thoughtful and +quiet, while her manner toward Maddy was not as haughty as formerly. +Guy thought her improved, and thus was not so delighted as he would +otherwise have been, when, one day, about two weeks after Uncle Joseph's +arrival at Honedale, she startled him by saying she thought it nearly +time for her to return to Boston, if she meant to spend the winter +there, and asked what she should do with Jessie. + +Guy was not quite willing for Agnes to leave him there alone, but when +he saw that she was determined, he consented to her going, with the +understanding that Jessie was to remain--a plan which Agnes did not +oppose, as a child so large as Jessie might stand in the way of her +being as gay as she meant to be in Boston. Jessie, too, when consulted, +said she would far rather stay at Aikenside; and so one November +morning, Agnes, wrapped in velvet and furs, kissed her little daughter, +and bidding good-by to Maddy and the servants, left a neighborhood +which, since Uncle Joseph was so near, had become so intolerable that +not even the hope of winning the doctor could avail to keep her in it. + +Guy accompanied her to the city, wondering why, when he used to like +it so much, it now seemed dull and tiresome, or why the society he +had formerly enjoyed failed to bring back the olden pleasure he had +experienced when a resident of Boston. Guy was very popular there, and +much esteemed by his friends of both sexes, and great were the efforts +made to entertain and keep him as long as possible. But Guy could not be +prevailed upon to stay there long, and after seeing Agnes settled in one +of the most fashionable boarding houses, he started for Aikenside. + +It was dark when he reached home, and as the evening had closed in +with a heavy rain, the house presented rather a cheerless appearance, +particularly as, in consequence of Mrs. Noah's not expecting him that +day, no fires had been kindled in the parlors, or in any room except the +library. There a bright coal fire was blazing in the grate, and thither +Guy repaired, finding, as he had expected, Jessie and her teacher. Not +liking to intrude on Mr. Guy, of whom she still stood somewhat in awe, +Maddy soon arose to leave, but Guy bade her stay; he should be lonely +without her, he said, and so bringing her work she sat down to sew, +while Jessie looked over a book of prints, and Guy upon the lounge +studied the face which, it seemed to him, grew each day more and more +beautiful. Then he talked with her of books, and the lessons which were +to be resumed on the morrow, watching Maddy as her bright face sparkled +and glowed with excitement. Then he questioned her of her father's +family, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction in knowing that the +Clydes were not a race of whose blood any one need be ashamed; and Maddy +was more like them he was sure than like the Markhams, and Guy shivered +a little as he recalled the peculiar dialect of Mr. and Mrs. Markham, +and remembered that they were Maddy's grandparents. Not that it was +anything to him. Oh, no, only as an inmate of his family he felt +interested in her, more so perhaps than young men were apt to be +interested in their sister's governess. + +Had Guy then been asked the question, he would, in all probability, have +acknowledged that in his heart there was a feeling of superiority to +Maddy Clyde; that she was not quite the equal of Aikenside's heir, nor +yet of Lucy Atherstone. It was natural; he had been educated to feel the +difference, but any haughty arrogance of which he might have been guilty +was kept down by his extreme good sense and generous, impulsive nature. +He liked Maddy; he liked to look at her as, in the becoming crimson +merino which he really and Jessie nominally had given her, she sat +before him, with the firelight falling on her beautiful hair, and making +shadows on her sunny face. + +Guy was luxurious in his tastes, and it seemed to him that Maddy was +just the picture to set off that room, or in fact all the rooms at +Aikenside. She would disgrace none of them, and he found himself wishing +that Providence had made her something to him--sister or cousin, or +anything that would make her one of the Remington line. + +And now, my reader, do not fall to abusing Guy, or accuse him of +forgetting Lucy Atherstone, for he did not. He thought of her many times +that evening, and in his dreams that night Lucy and Maddy shared pretty +equally, but the latter was associated with the lessons of the morrow, +while Lucy was the bright daystar for which he lived and hoped. + +It did not take long for the people of Sommerville to hear that Guy +Remington had actually turned schoolmaster, having in his library for +two hours or more each day Jessie's little girl-governess, about whose +brilliant beauty there was so much said--people wondering, as people +will, where it would end, and if it could be possible that the haughty +Guy had forgotten his English Lucy and gone to educating a wife. + +The doctor, to whom these remarks were sometimes made, silently gnashed +his teeth, then said savagely that "if Guy chose to teach Maddy Clyde, +he did not see whose business it was," and then rode over to Aikenside +to see the teacher and pupil, half hoping that Guy would soom tire of +his project and give it up. But Guy grew more and more pleased with his +employment, until, at last, from giving Maddy two hours of his time, +he came to give her four, esteeming them the pleasantest of the whole +twenty-four. Guy was proud of Maddy's improvement, praising her often to +the doctor, who also marveled at the rapid development of her mind and +the progress she made, grasping a knotty point almost before it was +explained, and retaining with wonderful tenacity what she learned. + +It mattered nothing to Guy that neighbors gossiped there were none +familiar enough to tell him what was said, except the doctor or Mrs. +Noah; and so he heard few of the remarks made so frequently, As +in Honedale, so in Sommerville Maddy was a favorite, and those who +interested themselves most in the matter never said anything worse of +her and Mr. Guy than that he might perhaps be educating his own wife, +and insinuating that it would be a great "come up" for Grandfather +Markham's child. But Maddy never dreamed of such a thing, and kept on +her pleasant way, reciting every day to Guy and going every Wednesday +to the red cottage, whither, after the first visit to Uncle Joseph, Guy +never accompanied her. Jessie, on the contrary, went often to Honedale, +where one at least always greeted her coming, stealing up closely to +her, and whispering softly: "My Daisy is come again." + +From the first Uncle Joseph had taken to Jessie, calling her Sarah for +a while, and then changing the name to "Daisy"--"Daisy Mortimer, his +little girl," he persisted in calling her, watching from his window for +her coming, and crying whenever Maddy appeared without her. At first +Agnes, from her city home, forbade Jessie's going so often to see a +lunatic; but when Jessie described the poor, crazy man's delight at +sight of her, telling how quiet and happy he seemed if he could but lay +his hand on her head, or touch her hair, she withdrew her restrictions, +and, as if moved to an unwonted burst of tenderness, wrote to her +daughter: "Comfort that crazy man all you can; he needs it so much." + +A few weeks after there came another letter from Agnes, but this time it +was to Guy, and its contents darkened his handsome face with anger and +vexation. Incidentally Agnes had heard the gossip, and written it to +Guy, adding in conclusion: "Of course I know it is not true, for ever if +there were no Lucy Atherstone, you, of all men, would not stoop to Maddy +Clyde. I do not presume to advise, but I will say this, that now she is +growing a young lady, folks will keep on talking so long as you keep her +there in the house; and it's hardly fair toward Lucy." + +This was what knotted up Guy's forehead and made him, as Jessie said, +"real cross for once." Somehow, he fancied, latterly, that the doctor +did not like Maddy's being there, while even Mrs. Noah managed to keep +her out of his way as soon as the lessons were ended. What did they +mean? what were they afraid of, and why did they presume to interfere +with him? he'd know, at all events; and summoning Mrs. Noah to his +presence, he read that part of Agnes' letter, pertaining to Maddy, and +then asked what it meant. + +"It means this, that folks are in a constant worry, for fear you'll fall +in love with Maddy Clyde." + +"I fall in love with that child!" Guy repeated, laughing at the idea, +and forgetting that he had long since, accused the doctor of doing that +very thing. + +"Yes, you," returned Mrs. Noah, "and 'taint strange they do; Maddy is +not a child: she's nearer sixteen than fifteen, is almost a young lady; +and if you'll excuse my boldness, I must say, I ain't any too well +pleased with the goin's on myself; not that I don't like the girl, for I +do, and I don't blame her an atom. She's as innocent as a new-born babe, +and I hope she'll always stay so; but you, Mr. Guy, you--now tell me +honest--do you think as much of Lucy Atherstone, as you used to, before +you took up school-keepin'?" + +Guy did not like to be interfered with, and naturally high-spirited, +he at first flew into a passion, declaring that he would not have folks +meddling with him, that he thought of Lucy Atherstone all the time, and +he did not know what more he could do; that 'twas a pity if a man could +not enjoy himself in his own way, provided that way were harmless, +that he'd never, in all his life, spent so happy a winter as the last; +that--- + +Here Mrs. Noah interrupted him with: "That's it, the very _it_; you want +nothing better than to have that girl sit close to you when she recites, +as she does; and once when she was workin' out some of them plusses and +minuses, and things, her slate rested on your knee; it did, I saw it +with my own eyes; and then, let me ask, when Jessie is drummin' on the +piano, why don't you bend over her, and turn the leaves, and count the +time, as you do when Maddy plays; and how does it happen that lately +Jessie is one too many, when you hear Maddy's lessons. She has no +suspicions, but I know she ain't sent off for nothin'; I know you'd +rather be alone with Maddy Clyde than to have anybody present, isn't it +so?" + +Guy began to wince. There was much truth in what Mrs. Noah had said. He +did devise various methods of getting rid of Jessie, when Maddy was in +his library, but it had never looked to him in just the light it did +when presented by Mrs. Noah, and he doggedly asked what Mrs. Noah would +have him do. + +"First and foremost, then, I'd have you tell Maddy yourself that you are +engaged to Lucy Atherstone; second, I'd have you write to Lucy all about +it, and if you honestly can, tell her that you only care for Maddy as a +friend; third, I'd have you send the girl---" + +"Not away from Aikenside! I never will!" and Guy sprang to his feet. + +The mine had exploded, and for an instant the young man reeled, as he +caught a glimpse of where he stood; still he would not believe it, or +confess to himself how strong a place in his affections was held by the +beautiful girl now no longer a child. It was almost a year since that +April afternoon when he first met Maddy Clyde, and from a timid, bashful +child, of fourteen and a half, she had grown to the rather tall, and +rather self-possessed maiden of fifteen and a half, almost sixteen, as +Mrs. Noah said, "almost a woman;" and as if to verify the latter fact, +she herself appeared at that very moment, asking permission to come in +and find a book, which had been mislaid, and which she needed in hearing +Jessie's lessons. + +"Certainly, come in," Guy said, and folding his arms he leaned against +the mantel, watching her as she hunted for the missing book. + +There was no pretense about Maddy Clyde, nothing put on for effect, and +yet in every movement she showed marks of great improvement, both +in manner and style. Of one hundred people who might glance at her, +ninety-nine would look a second time, asking who she was. Naturally +graceful and utterly forgetful of herself, she always appeared to good +advantage, and never to better than now, when two pairs of eyes were +watching her, as standing on tiptoe, or kneeling upon the floor to look +under the secretary, she hunted for the book. Not the remotest suspicion +had Maddy of what was occupying the thoughts of her companions, though +as she left the room and glanced brightly up at Guy, it struck her that +his face was dark and moody, and a painful sensation flitted through her +mind that in some way she had intruded. + +"Well," was Mrs. Noah's first comment, as the door closed on Maddy, but +as Guy made no response to that, she continued: "She is pretty. That you +won't deny." + +"Yes, more than pretty. She'll make a most beautiful woman." + +Guy seemed to talk more to himself than to Mrs. Noah, while his foot +kicked the fender, and he mentally compared Lucy and Maddy with each +other, and tried to think that it was not the result of that comparison, +but rather Mrs. Noah's next remark, which affected him unpleasantly. The +remark or remarks were as follows: + +"Of course she'll make a splendid woman. Everybody notices her now for +her beauty, and that's why you've no business to keep her here where you +see her every day. It's a wrong to her, lettin' yourself alone." + +Guy looked up inquiringly, and Mrs. Noah continued: + +"I've been a girl myself, and I know that Maddy can't be treated as you +treat her without its having an effect. I've no idea that it's entered +her head yet, but it will by-and-by, and then good-by to her happiness." + +"For pity's sake, what do you mean? Do explain, and not talk to me in +riddles. What have I done to Maddy, or what am I going to do?" + +Gay spoke savagely, and his boots were in great danger of being burned +as he kicked vigorously against the fender. Coming nearer to him, and +lowering her voice, Mrs. Noah replied: + +"You are going to teach her to love you, Guy Remington, just as sure as +my name is Noah." + +"And is that anything so very bad, I'd like to know. Most girls do not +find love distasteful," and Guy walked hastily to the window, where +he stood for a moment gazing out upon the soft April snow, which was +falling, and feeling anything but satisfied either with the weather or +himself; then walking back, and taking a seat before the fire, he said: +"I understand you now. You would save Maddy Clyde from sorrow, and +you are right. You know more of girls than I do. She might in time get +to--to--think of me as she ought not. I never looked upon it in this +light before. I've been so happy with her;" here Guy's voice faltered +a little, but he recovered himself and went on: "I will tell her about +Lucy tonight, but the sending her away, I can't do that. Neither will +she be happy to go back where I took her from, for though the best of +people, they are not like Maddy, and you know it." + +Yes, Mrs. Noah did know it, and pleased that her boy, as she called Guy, +had shown some signs of penitence and amendment, she said she did not +think it necessary to send Maddy home; she did not advise it either. +She liked the girl, and what she advised was this, that Guy should send +Maddy and Jessie both to boarding school. Agnes, she knew, would be +willing, and it was the best thing he could do. Maddy would thus learn +what was expected of a teacher, and as soon as she graduated, she could +procure some eligible situation, or if Lucy were there, and desired it, +she could come and stay forever for all what she cared. + +"And during the vacations, where must she go then?" Guy asked. + +"Go where she pleases, of course. As Jessie is so fond of her, and they +are much like sisters, it will not be improper for her to come here, +as I see, provided Agnes is here. Her presence, of course, would make a +difference," Mrs. Noah replied, while Guy continued: + +"I know you are right; that is, I do not wish to do Maddy a harm by +placing temptation in her way, neither will I have everybody meddling +with my business. I tell you I won't. I don't mean you, for you have a +right to say what no one else has," and he glanced half angrily at +Mrs. Noah. "Pity if I can't take an interest in a girl, because I once +wronged her, without every old woman in Christendom thinking she needs +to fall in love with me, and so be ruined for life. Maddy Clyde has too +good sense for that, or will have when I tell her about Lucy." + +"And you will do so?" Mrs. Noah said coaxingly. + +"Of course I will, and write to Lucy, too, telling her how you talked, +and how I care no more for Maddy than I do for Jessie." + +"And will that be true?" Mrs. Noah asked. + +Guy could not look her fully in the face then, so he kicked the grate +until the concussion sent the red-hot coals out upon the carpet as he +replied: + +"True? Yes, every word of it." + +Mrs. Noah noted all this, and thinking within herself: + +"I orto have took him in hand long ago," she came up to him and said +kindly, soothingly: "We shall all miss Maddy; I as much as any one, +but I do think it best for her to go to school; and so, after tea, I'll +manage to keep Jessie with me, and send Maddy to you, while you tell her +about Lucy and the plan." + +Guy nodded a little jerking kind of a nod, in token of his assent, and +then with that perversity which prompts women particularly to press a +subject after enough has been said upon it, Mrs. Noah, as she turned to +leave the room, gave vent to the following: + +"You know, Guy, as well as I, that pretty and smart as she is, Maddy is +really beneath you, and no kind of a match, even if you wan't as good +as married, which you be;" and the good lady left the room in time to +escape seeing the sparks fly up the chimney, as Guy now made a most +vigorous use of the poker, and so did not finish the scorching process +commenced on the end of his boot. + +Mrs. Noah's last remark awakened in Guy a Singular train of thought. +Yes, Maddy was his inferior as the world saw matters, and settling +himself in the chair he tried to fancy what that same world would say +if he should make Maddy his wife. Of course he had no such intention, he +was just imagining something which never could possibly happen, because +in the first place he wouldn't marry Maddy Clyde if he could, and +he couldn't if he would! Still, it was not an unpleasant occupation +fancying what folks, and especially Agnes, would say if he did, and so +he sat dreaming about it until the bell rang for supper, when with a +nervous start he woke from the reverie, and wishing the whole was over, +started for the supper. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. -- MADDY AND LUCY. + + +Supper was over, and Guy was back again in his library. He had not +stopped as he usually did, to romp with Jessie or talk to Maddy Clyde, +until it was so dark that he could not see her sparkling face, but had +come directly back, dropping the heavy curtains and piling fresh coal +upon the fire. Mrs. Noah had lighted the lamps and then gone after +Maddy, explaining to Jessie how she must stay with her while Maddy went +to Mr. Guy, who wanted to talk with her. + +"Is he angry with me, Mrs. Noah?" and remembering his moody looks when +she went in quest of the book, Maddy felt her heart misgive her as to +what might be the result of an interview with Guy. + +Mrs. Noah, however, reassured her, and Maddy stole for a moment to her +own room to see how she was looking. The crimson dress, with its soft +edge of lace about the slender throat, became her well, and smoothing +the folds of her black silk apron, whose jaunty shoulder pieces gave her +a very girlish appearance, she went down to where Guy was waiting for +her. He heard her coming, and involuntarily drew nearer to him the chair +where he intended she should sit. But Maddy took instead a stool, +and leaning her elbow on the chair, turned her face fully toward him, +waiting for him to speak. + +"Maddy," he began, "are you happy here at Aikenside?" + +"Oh, yes, very, very happy," and Maddy's soft eyes shone with the +happiness she tried to express. + +It was at least a minute before he spoke again, and when he did, it came +out how he had concluded it best to send her and Jessie to school, for +a year or two at least; not that he was tired of teaching her, but it +would be better for her, he thought, to mingle with other girls and +learn the ways of the world. Aikenside would still be her home, still +the place where her vacations would be spent with Jessie if she chose, +and then he spoke of New York as the place he had in view, and asked her +what she thought of it. + +Maddy was too much stunned to think of anything at first. That the +good she had coveted most should be placed within her grasp, and by +Guy Remington too, was almost too much to credit. She was happy at +Aikenside, but she had never expected her life there to continue very +long, and had often wished that when it ended she might devise some +means of entering a seminary as other young ladies did. But she had +never dreamed of being sent to school by Guy, nor could she conceive of +his motive. He hardly knew himself, only he liked her, and wished to do +something for her. This was his reply to her tearful question: + +"Oh, Mr. Remington, you are so good to me; what makes you?" + +He liked her, and all over Maddy's face there spread a beautiful flush +as the words rang in her ears. And then she told Guy how much she wished +to be a teacher, and so take care of her grandparents and her poor Uncle +Joseph. It seemed almost cruel for that young creature to be burdened +with the care of those three half-helpless people, and Guy shuddered +just as he usually did when he associated Maddy with them, but when he +listened while she told him of all the castles she had built, and in +every one of which there was a place for "our folks," as she termed +them, it was more in the form of a blessing than a caress that his hand +rested on her shining hair. + +"You are a good girl, Maddy," he said, "and I am glad now that I have +concluded to send you where you can be better fitted for the office you +mean to fill than you could be here, but I shall miss you sadly. I like +little girls, and though you can hardly be classed there now, you seem +to me much like Jessie, and I take pleasure in doing for you as I would +for her. Maddy---" + +Guy stopped, uncertain what to say next, while Maddy's eyes again looked +up inquiringly. + +He was going now to tell "the little girl much like Jessie" of Lucy +Atherstone, and the words would not come at first. + +"Maddy," he said, again blushing guiltily, "I have said I liked you, and +so I hope will some one else. I have written of you to her." + +Up to this point Maddy had a vague idea that he meant the doctor, but +the "her" dispelled that thought, and a most inexplicable feeling of +numbness crept over her as she asked faintly: + +"Written to whom?" + +Guy did not look at Maddy. He only knew that her head moved out from +beneath his hand as he replied: + +"To Miss Atherstone--Miss Lucy Atherstone. Have you never heard of her?" + +No, Maddy never had, and with that same numbness she could not +understand, she listened while Guy told her who Lucy Atherstone was, and +why she was not at that moment the mistress of Aikenside. There was +no reason why Guy should be excited, but he was, and he talked very +rapidly, never once glancing at Maddy until he had finished speaking. +She was looking at him intently, wondering if he could hear as she did +the beatings of her heart. Had her life depended upon it, she could +not at first have spoken, for the numbness which, like bands of steel, +seemed to press all the feeling out of it. She did not know why it was +that hearing of Lucy Atherstone should affect her so. Surely she ought +to be glad for Guy that he possessed the love of so sweet a creature +as he described her to be. He was glad, she knew, he talked so +energetically--so much as if it were a pleasure to talk; and she was +glad, too, only it had taken her so by surprise to know that Mr. Guy, +whom she had rather considered as exclusively her own and Jessie's was +engaged, and that some time, before long it might be, Aikenside would +really have a mistress. She did not quite understand Guy's last words, +although she was looking at him, and he asked her twice if she would +like to see Lucy's picture ere she comprehended what he meant. + +"Yes," came faintly from the parted lips, about which there was a slight +quiver as she put up her hand to take the case Guy drew from his bosom. + +Turning it to the light she gazed silently upon the sweet young face, +which seemed to return her gaze with a look as earnest and lifelike as +her own. + +"What do you think of her--of my Lucy? Is she not pretty?" Guy asked, +bending down so that his dark hair swept against Maddy's, while his warm +breath touched her burning cheeks. + +"Yes, she's beautiful, oh! so beautiful, and happy, too. I wish I had +been like her. I wish--" and Maddy burst into a most uncontrollable fit +of weeping, her tears dropping like rain upon the inanimate features of +Lucy Atherstone. + +Guy looked at her amazed, his own heart throbbing with a keen pang of +something undefinable as he listened to her stormy weeping. What did +ail her? he wondered. Could it be that the evil against which he was +providing had really come upon her? Was Maddy more interested in him +than he supposed? He hoped not, though with a man's vanity he felt a +slight thrill of satisfaction in thinking that it might be so. Guy knew +this feeling was not worthy of him, and he struggled to cast it off, +while he asked Maddy why she cried. + +Child as she was, the real cause of her tears never entered her brain, +and she answered: + +"I can't tell why, unless I was thinking how different Miss Atherstone +is from me. She's rich and handsome. I am poor and homely, and--" + +"No, Maddy, you are not;" and Guy interrupted her. + +Gently lifting up her head, he smoothed back her hair, and keeping a +hand on each side of her face, said, pleasantly: + +"You are not homely. I think you quite as pretty as Lucy; I do, really," +he continued, as her eyes kindled at the compliment. "I am going to +write to her to-night, and shall tell her more about you. I want you to +like each other very much when she comes, so that you may live with us. +Aikenside would not be Aikenside without you, Maddy." + +In all his wooings of Lucy Atherstone, Guy's voice had never been +tenderer in its tone than when he said this to Maddy, whose lip quivered +again, and who involuntarily laid her head now upon his knee as she +cried a second time, not noisily, but quietly, softly, as if this crying +did her good. For several minutes they sat there thus, the nature of +their thoughts known only to each other, for neither spoke, until Maddy, +half ashamed of her emotions, lifted up her head, and said: + +"I do not know what made me cry, only I'd been so happy here that I +guess I'd come to think that you only liked Jessie and me. Of course I +knew that some time you would see and think all the world of somebody +else, but I did not expect it so soon. I am afraid Miss Atherstone will +not fancy me, and I know most I shall not feel as free here, after +she comes, as I do now. Then your being so good, sending me to school, +helped me to cry more, and so I was very foolish. Don't tell Miss +Atherstone that I cried. Tell her, though, how beautiful she is, and how +glad I am that she loves you, and is going to be your wife." + +Maddy's voice was very steady in its tone. She evidently meant what she +said, but Guy, the bad man, did not feel as graciously as he ought to +have felt in knowing that Maddy Clyde was glad "Lucy loved him, and was +to be his wife." + +Guy was rather uncomfortable, and as Maddy was in some way associated +with his discomfort, he did not oppose her when she arose to leave him. + +Had Maddy been more a woman, or less a child, she would have seen that +it was well for her to know of Lucy Atherstone before her feelings for +Guy Remington had assumed a definite form. As it was, she never dreamed +how near she was to loving Aikenside's young heir; and while talking +with Jessie of the grand times they should have at school, she marveled +at that little round spot of pain which was burning at her heart, or why +she should wish that Guy would not speak of her in his letter to Lucy +Atherstone. + +But Guy did speak of her, frankly confessing the interest he felt in +her, telling just how people were beginning to talk, and asking Lucy if +she cared, declaring that if she did, he would not see Maddy Clyde any +more than was necessary. In a little less than four weeks there came an +answer from Lucy, who, with health somewhat improved, had returned to +England, and wrote to Guy from Brighton, where she expected to spend the +summer, half hoping Guy might join her there, though she could not urge +it, as mamma still insisted that she was not able to take upon herself +the duties of a wife. Then she spoke of Maddy Clyde, saying "She was not +one bit jealous of her dear Guy, Of course ignorant, meddling people, of +whom she feared there were a great many in America, would gossip, but +he was not to mind them." Then she said that if Maddy were willing, she +would so much like her picture, as she had a curiosity to know just how +she looked, and if Maddy pleased, "would she write a few lines, so as +not to seem so much a stranger?" + +Lucy Atherstone had been educated to think a great deal of birth, and +blood, and family, and Guy never did a wiser thing than when he told her +that according to English views, Maddy was a lady. It went far toward +reconciling Lucy to his interest in one whom her haughtier and more +sanguine mother called a rival, advising her mother to ignore her +altogether. But Lucy's was a different nature, and though it cost her +pride a pang, she asked for a line from Maddy, partly to mortify that +pride, and partly to prove to Guy how free she was from jealousy. + +"Darling little Lucy, I do love her very dearly," was Guy's comment, as +he finished reading her letter, feeling somewhat as if her mother were a +kind of cruel ogress, bent on preventing him from being happy. Then, as +he remembered Lucy's hope that he might join her, and thought how much +easier of access New York was than Brighton, he said, half petulantly: + +"I've been to England for nothing times enough. When that mother of hers +says I may have Lucy, I'll go again, but not before. It don't pay." + +And crushing the letter into his pocket, he went out upon the piazza +where were assembled Maddy, Jessie and Mrs. Agnes, the latter of whom +had come to Aikenside the day before. + +At first she had objected to the boarding-school arrangement, saying +Jessie was too young, but Guy as usual had overruled her objections, +as he had those of Grandpa Markham, and it was now a settled thing that +Maddy and Jessie both should go to New York, Mrs. Agnes to accompany +them if she chose, and having a general supervision of her child. This +was Guy's plan, the one which had prevailed with the fashionable woman, +who, tired of Boston, was well pleased with the prospect of a life in +New York. Guy's interest in Maddy was wholly inexplicable to her, unless +she explained it on the principal that in the Remington nature there was +a fondness for governesses, as had been exemplified in her own history. +That Guy would ever marry Maddy she doubted, but the mere possibility +of it made her set her teeth firmly together as she thought how +embarrassing it would be to acknowledge as the mistress of Aikenside +the little girl whom she had sought to banish from her table. Since her +return she had had no opportunity of judging for herself how matters +stood, and was consequently much relieved when, as Guy joined them, he +began at once to speak of Lucy, telling of the letter, and her request +for Maddy's picture. + +"Me? Mine? You cannot mean that?" Maddy exclaimed, her eyes opening +wide with wonder, but Guy did mean it, and began to plan a drive on +the morrow to Devonshire, where there was at that time a tolerably fair +artist. + +Accordingly the next day the four went down to Devonshire, calling first +upon the doctor, whose face brightened when he heard why they had come. +During the weeks that had passed, the doctor had not been blind to at +that was passing at Aikenside, and the fear that Guy was more interested +in Maddy than he ought to be, had grown almost to a certainty. Now, +however, he was not so sure. Indeed, the fact that Guy had told her of +Lucy Atherstone would indicate that his suspicions were groundless, and +he entered heartily into the picture plan, saying laughingly that if he +supposed Miss Lucy would like his face he'd sit himself, and bidding +Guy be sure to ask her. The doctor's gay spirits helped raise those of +Maddy, and as that little burning spot in her heart was fast wearing +away, she was in just the mood for a most admirable likeness. Indeed, +the artist's delight at his achievement was unbounded, as he declared +it the very best picture he had ever taken. It was beautiful, even Agnes +acknowledged to herself, while Jessie wait into raptures, and Maddy +blushed to hear her own praises. Guy said nothing, except to ask that +Maddy should sit again; this was good, but a second might be better. +So Maddy sat again, succeeding quite as well as at first, but as the +artist's preference was for the former, it was left to be finished up, +with the understanding that Guy would call for it. As the ladies passed +down the stairs, Guy lingered behind, and when sure they were out of +hearing, said in a low voice: + +"You may as well finish both; they are too good to be lost." + +The artist bowed, and Guy, with a half guilty blush, hurried down into +the street, where Agues was waiting for him. Two hours later, Guy, in +Mrs. Conner's parlor, was exhibiting the finished picture, which in +its handsome casing, was more beautiful than ever, and more natural, if +possible. + +"I think I might have one of Maddy's," Jessie said, half poutingly; +then, as she remembered the second sitting, she begged of Guy to get it +for her, "that was a dear brother." + +But the "dear brother" did not seem inclined to comply with her request, +putting her off, until, despairing of success, Jessie, when alone with +the doctor, tried her powers of persuasion on him, coaxing until in +self-defense he crossed the street, and entering the daguerrean gallery +asked for the remaining picture of Miss Clyde, saying that he wished it +for little Miss Remington. + +"Mr. Remington took them both," the artist replied, commencing a +dissertation on the style and beauty of the young girl, all of which +was lost upon the doctor, who, in a kind of maze, quitted the room, and +returning to Jessie, said to her carelessly: "He hasn't it. You know +they rub out those they do not use. So you'll have to do without; and, +Jessie, I wouldn't tell Guy I tried to get it for you." + +Jessie wondered why she must not tell Guy, but the fact that the doctor +requested her not was sufficient. Consequently Guy little guessed that +the doctor knew what it was he carried so carefully in his coat pocket, +looking at it earnestly when at home and alone in his own room, admiring +its soft, girlish beauty, half shrinking from the lifelike expression +of the large, bright eyes, and trying to convince himself that his sole +object in getting it was to give it to the doctor after Maddy was gone! +It would be such a surprise, and the doctor would be so glad, that Guy +finally made himself believe that he had done a most generous thing! + +"I am going to send Lucy your picture to-day, and as she asked that you +should write her a few lines, suppose you do it now," Guy said to Maddy +next morning, as they were leaving the breakfast table. + +It was a sore trial to Maddy to write to Lucy Atherstone, but she +offered no remonstrance, and so accompanying the picture was a little +note, filled mostly with praises of Mr. Guy, and which would be very +gratifying to the unsuspecting Lucy. + +Now that it was fully decided for Jessie to go with Maddy, her lessons +were suspended, and Aikenside for the time being was turned into a vast +dressmaking and millinery establishment. With his usual generosity, +Guy had given Agnes permission to draw upon his purse for whatever was +needed, either for herself or Jessie, with the definite understanding +that Maddy should have an equal share of dress and attention. + +"It will not be necessary," he said, "for you to enlighten the citizens +of New York with regard to Maddy's position. She goes there as Jessie's +equal, and as such her wardrobe must be suitable." + +No one could live long with Maddy Clyde without becoming interested +in her, and in spite of herself Agnes' dislike was wearing away, +particularly as of late she had seen no signs of special attention on +the doctor's part. He had gotten over his weakness, she thought, and so +was very gracious toward Maddy, who, naturally forgiving, began to like +her better than she had ever dreamed it possible for her to like so +proud and haughty a woman. Down at the cottage in Honedale there were +many consultations held and many fears expressed by the aged couple +as to what would be the result of all Guy was doing for their child. +Womanlike, Grandma Markham felt a flutter of pride in thinking that +Maddy was going to school in a big city like New York. It gave her +something to talk about with her less fortunate neighbors, who wondered, +and gossiped, and envied, but could not bring themselves to feel +unkindly toward the girl Maddy, who had grown up in their midst, and +who as yet was wholly unchanged by prosperity. Grandpa Markham, on the +contrary, though pleased that Maddy should have every opportunity +for acquiring the education she so much desired, was fearful of the +result--fearful that there might come a time when his darling would +shrink from the relations to whom she was as sunshine to the flowers. He +knew that the difference between Aikenside and the cottage must strike +her unpleasantly every time she came home, and he did not blame her for +her always apparent readiness to go back. That was natural, he thought, +but a life in New York, that great city which to the simple-hearted old +man seemed a very Babylon of iniquity, was different, and for a time he +demurred to sending her there. But Guy persuaded him, and when he heard +that Agnes was going, too, he consented, for he had faith in Agnes as +a protector. Maddy had never told him of the scene which followed that +lady's return from Saratoga. Indeed, Maddy never told anything but good +of Aikenside or its inmates, and so Mrs. Agnes came in for a share of +the old people's gratitude, while even Uncle Joseph, hearing daily a +prayer for the "young madam," as grandpa termed her, learned to pray +for her himself, coupling her name with that of Sarah, and asking in +his crazy way that God would "forgive Sarah" first, and then "bless the +madam--the madam--the madam." + +A few days before Maddy's departure, grandpa went up to see "the madam;" +anxious to know something more than hearsay about a person to whose care +his child was to be partially intrusted. Agnes was in her room when told +who wanted to see her. Starting quickly, she turned so deadly white that +Maddy, who brought the message, flew to her side, asking in much alarm, +what was the matter. + +"Only a little faint. It will soon pass off," Agnes said, and then, +dismissing Maddy, she tried to compose herself sufficiently to pass the +ordeal she so much dreaded, and from which there was no possible escape. + +Thirteen years! Had they changed her past recognition? She hoped, she +believed so, and yet, never in her life had Agnes Remington's heart +beaten with so much terror and apprehension as when she entered the +reception room where Guy sat talking with the infirm old man she +remembered so well. He had grown older, thinner, poorer looking, than +when she saw him last, but in his wrinkled face there was the same +benignant, heavenly expression which, when she was better than she was +now, used to remind her of the angels. His snowy hair was parted just +the same as ever, but the mild blue eye was dimmer, and it rested on her +with no suspicious glance as, partially reassured, she glided across the +threshold, and bowed civilly when Guy presented her. + +A little anxious as to how her grandfather would acquit herself, +Maddy sat by, wondering why Agnes appeared so ill at ease, and why +her grandsire started sometimes at the sound of her voice, and looked +earnestly at her. + +"We've never met before to my knowledge, young woman," he said once to +Agnes, "but you are mighty like somebody, and your voice when you talk +low keeps makin' me jump as if I'd heard it summers or other." + +After that Agnes spoke in elevated tones, as if she thought him deaf, +and the mystified look of wonder did not return to his face. Numerous +were the charges he gave to Agnes concerning Maddy, bidding her be +watchful of his child, and see that she did not "get too much drinked +in with the wicked things on Broadway!" then, as he arose to go, he laid +his trembling hand on her head and said solemnly: "You are young yet, +lady, and there may be a long life before you. God bless you, then, and +prosper you in proportion as you are kind to Maddy. I've nothing to give +you nor Mr. Guy for your goodness only my prayers, and them you have +every day. We all pray for you, lady, Joseph and all, though I doubt +me he knows much the meaning of what he says." "Who, sir? What did you +say?" and Agnes' face was scarlet, as grandpa replied: "Joseph, our +unfortunate boy; Maddy must have told you, the one who's taken such a +shine to Jessie. He's crazy-like, and from the corner where he sits so +much, I can hear him whispering by the hour, sometimes of folks he used +to know, and then of you, who we call madam. He says for ten minutes on +the stretch: "God bless the madam--the madam--the madam!" You're +sick, lady; talkin' about crazy folks makes you faint," grandpa added, +hastily, as Agnes turned white, like the dress she wore. "No--oh, no, +I'm better now," Agnes gasped, bowing him to the door with a feeling +that she could not breathe a moment longer in his presence. He did not +hear her faint cry of bitter, bitter remorse, as he walked through the +hall, nor know she watched him as he went slowly down the walk, stopping +often to admire the fair blossoms which Maddy did not feel at liberty +to pick. "He loved flowers," Agnes whispered, as her better nature +prevailed over every other feeling, and, starting eagerly forward, she +ran after the old man, who, surprised at her evident haste, waited a +little anxiously for her to speak. It was rather difficult to do so with +Maddy's inquiring eyes upon her, but Agnes managed at last to say: "Does +that crazy man like flowers--the one who prays for the madam?" "Yes, he +used to years ago," grandpa replied; and, bending down, Agnes began to +pick and arrange into a most tasteful bouquet the blossoms and buds of +May, growing so profusely within the borders. + +"Take them to him, will you?" and her hand shook as she passed to +Grandpa Markham the gift which would thrill poor crazy Joseph with +a strange delight, making him hold converse a while with the unseen +presence which he called "she," and then whisper blessings on the +madam's head. Three days after this, a party of four left Aikenside, +which presented a most forlorn and cheerless appearance to the +passers-by, who were glad almost as the servants when, at the expiration +of a week, Guy came back and took up his olden life of solitude and +loneliness, with nothing in particular to interest him, except his books +the letters he wrote to Lucy; unless, indeed, it were those he was +going to write to Maddy, who, with Jessie, had promised to become +his correspondents. Nothing but these and the picture--the doctor's +picture--the one designed expressly for him, and which troubled him +greatly. Believing that he had fully intended it for the doctor, Guy +felt as if it were, in a measure, stolen property, and this made him +prize it all the more. + +Now that Maddy was away, Guy missed her terribly, wondering how he had +ever lived without her, and sometimes working himself into a violent +passion against the meddlesome neighbors who would not let her remain +with him in peace, and who, now that she was gone, did not stop their +talking one whit. Of this last, however, he was ignorant, as there was +no one to tell him how people marveled more than ever, feeling confident +now that he was educating his own wife, and making sundry hateful +remarks as to what he intended doing with her relations. Guy only knew +that he was very lonely, that Lucy's letters seemed insipid, that even +the doctor failed to interest him, as of old, and that his greatest +comfort was in looking at the bright young face which seemed to smile so +trustfully upon him from the tiny casing, just as Maddy had smiled upon +him when, in Madam -----'s parlor, he bade her good-by. The doctor could +not have that picture, he finally decided. Hal ought to be satisfied +with getting Maddy, as of course he would, for wasn't he educating her +for that very purpose? Certainly he was, and, as a kind of atonement for +what he deemed treachery to his friend, he talked with him often of her, +always taking it for granted that when she was old enough, the doctor +would woo and win the little girl who had come to him in his capacity of +inspector, as candidate number one. + +At first, the doctor suspected him of acting a part in order to cover +up some design of his own with regard to Maddy, and affected an +indifference he did not feel; but, as time passed on, Guy, who really +believed himself sincere, managed to make the doctor believe so, too. +Consequently, the latter abandoned his suspicions, and gave himself +up to blissful dreams of what might possibly be when Maddy should have +become the brilliant woman she was sure one day to be. Alas! for the +doctor's dreams. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. -- THE HOLIDAYS. + + +The summer vacation had been spent by the Remington's and Maddy at the +seaside, the latter coming to the cottage for a week before returning to +her school in New York, and as the doctor was then absent from home, she +did not meet him at all. Consequently he had not seen her since she +left Aikenside for New York. But she was at home now for the Christmas +holidays--was down at the cottage, too; and unusually nervous for him, +the doctor stood before the little square glass in his back office, +trying to make himself look as well as possible, for he was going that +very afternoon to call upon Miss Clyde. He was glad she was not at +Aikenside; he would rather meet her where Guy was not, and he hoped he +might be fortunate enough to find her alone. + +The doctor was seriously in love. He acknowledged that now to himself, +confessing, too, that with his love was mingled a spice of jealousy, +lest Guy Remington should be expending more thought on Maddy Clyde than +was consistent with the promised husband of Lucy Atherstone. He wished +so much to talk with Guy about her, and yet he dreaded it; for if the +talk should confirm his suspicious there would be no hope for him. No +girl in her right mind would prefer him to Guy Remington, and with a +little sigh the doctor was turning away from the glass, when, as if +to verify a familiar proverb, Guy himself drove up in a most dashing +equipage, the silver-tipped harness of his high-mettled steed flashing +in the wintry sunlight, and the bright-hued lining of his fanciful robes +presenting a very gay appearance. + +Guy was in the best of spirits. For an entire half day he had tried to +devise some means to getting Maddy up to Aikenside. It was quite too bad +for her to spend the whole vacation at the cottage, as she seemed likely +to do. He knew she was lonely there; that the bare floor and low, dark +walls affected her unpleasantly. He had seen that in her face when he +bade her good-by, for he had carried her down to the cottage himself, +and now he was going after her. There was to be a party at Aikenside; +the very first since Guy was its master. The neighbors had said he was +too proud to invite them, but they should say so no more. The house was +to be thrown open in honor of Guy's twenty-sixth birthday, and all who +were at all desirable as guests were to be bidden to the festival. First +on the list was the doctor, who, remembering how averse Guy was to large +parties, wondered at the proceedings. But Guy was all engaged in +the matter, and after telling who were to be invited, added rather +indifferently: "I'm going now down to Honedale after Maddy. It's better +for her to be with us a day or two beforehand. You've seen her, of +course." + +No, the doctor had not; he was just going there, he said, in a tone so +full of sad disappointment, that Guy detected it at once, and asked if +anything was the matter. + +"Guy," the doctor continued, sitting down by his friend, "I remember +once your making me your confidant about Lucy. You remember it, too?" + +"Yes, why? well?" Guy replied, beginning to feel strangely uncomfortable +as he half divined what was coming next. + +Latterly Guy had stopped telling the doctor that he was educating Maddy +for him. Indeed, he did not talk of her at all, and the doctor might +have fancied her out of his mind but for the frequent visits to New +York, which Guy found it absolutely necessary to make. Guy did not +himself understand the state of his own feelings with regard to Maddy, +but if compelled to explain them they would have been something as +follows: He fully expected to marry Lucy Atherstone; the possibility +that he should not had never occurred to him, but that was no reason +why Maddy Clyde need be married for these many years. She was very young +yet; there was time enough for her to think of marrying when she was +twenty-five, and in the meanwhile it would be splendid to have her at +Aikenside as Lucy's and his friend. Nothing could be nicer, and Guy did +not care to have this little arrangement spoiled. But that the doctor +had an idea of spoiling it, he had not a doubt, particularly after the +doctor's next remark. + +"I have not seen Maddy since last spring, you know. Is she very much +improved?" + +"Yes, very much. There is no more stylish-looking girl to be seen on +Broadway than Maddy Clyde," and Guy shook down his pantaloons a little +awkwardly. + +"Well, is she as handsome as she used to be, and as childish in her +manner?" the doctor asked; and Guy replied: + +"I took her to the opera once, last month, and the many admiring glances +cast at our box proved pretty positively that Maddy's beauty was not of +the ordinary kind." + +"The opera!" the doctor exclaimed; "Maddy Clyde at the opera! What would +her grandfather say? He is very puritanical, you know." + +"Yes, I know; and so is Maddy, too. She wrote and obtained his consent +before she'd go with me. He won't let her go to a theatre anyhow." + +Here an interval of silence ensued, and then the doctor began again, + +"Guy, you told me once you were educating Maddy Clyde for me, and I +tried then to make you think I didn't care; but I did, oh, so much. Guy, +laugh at me, if you please. I cannot blame you if you do; but the fact +is, I believe I've loved Maddy Clyde ever since that time she was so +sick. At all events, I love her now, and I was going down there this +very afternoon to tell her so. She's old enough. She was sixteen last +October, the--the----" + +"Tenth day," Guy responded, thus showing that he, too, was keeping +Maddy's age, even to a day. + +"Yes, the tenth day," resumed the doctor. "There's 'most eleven years' +difference between us, but if she feels at all as I do, she will not +care, Guy;" and the doctor began to talk earnestly: "I'll be candid with +you, and say that you have sometimes made my heart ache a little." + +"Me!" and Guy's face was crimson, while the doctor continued: + +"Yes, and I beg your pardon for it; but let me ask you one question, and +upon its answer will depend my future course with regard to Maddy: You +are true to Lucy?" + +Guy felt the blood trickling at the roots of his hair, but he answered +truthfully as he believed: + +"Yes, true as steel;" while the generous thought came over him that he +would further the doctor's plans all he possibly could. + +"Then I am satisfied," the doctor rejoined; "and as you have rather +assumed the position of her guardian or brother, I ask your permission +to offer her the love which whether she accepts it or not, is hers." + +Guy had never felt a sharper pang than that which now thrilled through +every nerve, but he would not prove false to the friend confiding in +him, and he answered calmly: + +"You have my consent; but, Doc, better put it off till you see her +at Aikenside. There's no chance at the cottage, with those three old +people. I wonder she don't go wild. I'm sure I should." + +Guy was growing rather savage about something, but the doctor did not +mind; and grasping his arm as he arose, he said: + +"And you'll manage it for me, Guy? You know how. I don't. You'll +contrive for me to see her alone, and maybe say a word beforehand in my +favor." + +"Yes, yes, I'll manage it. I'll fix it right. Don't forget, day after +to-morrow night. The Cutlers' will be there, and, by the way, Marcia has +got to be a splendid girl. She fancied you once, you know. Old Cutler is +worth half a million." And Guy tore himself away from the doctor, who, +now that the ice was broken, would like to have talked of Maddy forever. + +But Guy was not thus inclined, and in a mood not extremely amiable, he +threw himself into his sleigh and went dashing down toward Honedale. +For some unaccountable reason he was not now one bit interested in the +party, and, were it not that a few of the invitations were issued, he +would have been tempted to give it up. Guy did not know what ailed him. +He only felt as if somebody had been meddling with his plans, and had he +been in the habit of swearing, he would probably have sworn; but as he +was not, he contented himself with driving like a second Jehu he reached +Honedale, where a pair of soft, brown eyes smiled up into his face, and +a little, fat, warm hand was clasped in his, as Maddy came even to the +gate to meet him. + +She was very glad to see him. The cottage with its humble adornings did +seem lonely, almost dreary, after the life and bustle of New York, and +Maddy had cried more than once to think how hard and wicked she must be +growing when her home had ceased to be the dear old home she once loved +so well. She had been there five days now, and notwithstanding the +efforts of her grandparents to entertain her, each day had seemed a +week in its duration. Neither the doctor nor Guy had been near her, and +capricious little Maddy had made herself believe that the former was +sadly remiss in his duty, inasmuch as he had not seen her for so long. +He had been in the habit of calling every week, her grandmother said, +and this did not tend to increase her amiability. Why didn't he come now +when he knew she was at home? Didn't he want to see her? Well, she could +be indifferent, too, and when they did meet, she'd show how little she +cared! + +Maddy was getting to be a woman with womanly freaks, as the reader will +readily see. At Guy she was not particularly piqued. She did not take +his attentions, as a matter of course; still she thought more of him, if +possible, than of the doctor, during those five days, saying to herself +each morning: "He'll surely come to-day," and to herself each night: "He +will be here to-morrow." She had something to show him at last--a +letter from Lucy Atherstone, who had gradually come to be her regular +correspondent, and whom Maddy had learned to love with all the intensity +of her girlhood. To her ardent imagination Lucy Atherstone was but a +little lower than the angels, and the pure, sweet thoughts contained in +every letter were doing almost as much toward molding her character as +Grandpa Markham's prayers and constant teachings. Maddy did not know +it, but it was these letters from Lucy which kept her from loving Guy +Remington. She could not for a moment associate him with herself when +she so constantly thought of him as the husband of another, and that +other Lucy Atherstone. Not for worlds would Maddy have wronged the +gentle creature who wrote to her so confidingly of Guy, envying her +in that she could so often see his face and hear his voice, while his +betrothed was separated from him by many thousand miles. Little by +little it had come out that Lucy's mother was averse to the match, that +she had in her mind the case of an English lord, who would make her +daughter "My Lady;" and this was the secret of her deferring so long +her daughter's marriage. In her last letter to Maddy, however, Lucy +had written with more than her usual spirit that she would come in +possession of her property on her twenty-fifth birthday. She should then +feel at liberty to act for herself, and she launched out into joyful +anticipations of the time when she should come to Aikenside and meet her +dear Maddy Clyde. Feeling that Guy, if he did not already know it, would +be glad to hear it, Maddy had all the morning been wishing he would +come; and when she saw him at the gate she ran out to meet him, her eyes +and face sparkling with eager joy as she suffered him to retain her +hand while she said: "I am so glad to see you, Mr. Remington. I almost +thought you had forgotten me at Aikenside, Jessie and all." + +Guy began to exclaim against any one's forgetting her, and also to +express his pleasure at finding her so glad to see him, when Maddy +interrupted him with, "Oh, it's not that; I've something to show +you--something which will make you very happy. I had a letter from Lucy +last night. When she is twenty-five she will be her own mistress, you +know, and she means to be married in spite of her mother--she says--let +me see--" and drawing from her bosom Lucy's letter, Maddy read, "'I +do not intend to fail in filial obedience, but I have tired dear Guy's +patience long enough, and as soon as I can I shall marry him.' Isn't it +nice?" and returning the letter to its hiding place, Maddy scooped up in +her hand and ate a quantity of the snow beside the path. + +"Yes, it was very nice," Guy admitted, but there was a shadow on his +brow as he followed Maddy into the cottage, where the lunatic, who had +been watching them from the window, shook his head doubtfully and said, +"Too young, too young for you, young man. You can't have our Sunshine if +you want her." + +"Hush, Uncle Joseph," Maddy whispered, softly, taking his arm and laying +it around her neck. "Mr. Remington don't want me. He is engaged to a +beautiful English girl across the sea." + +Low as Maddy's words were, Guy heard them, as well as the crazy man's +reply, "Engagements have been broken." + +That was the first time the possibility had ever entered Guy's brain +that his engagement might be broken, provided he wished it, which he did +not, he said to himself positively. Lucy loved him, he loved Lucy, and +that was enough, so in a kind of abstracted manner arising from the +fact that he was calculating how long it would be before Lucy was +twenty-five, he began to talk with Maddy, asking how she had spent her +time, and so forth. This reminded Maddy of the doctor, who, she said, +had not been to see her at all. + +"He was coming this morning," Guy rejoined, "but I persuaded him to +defer his call until you were at Aikenside. I have come to take you back +with me, as we are to have a party day after to-morrow evening, and I +wish you to be present." + +A party, a big party, such as Maddy had never in her life attended! How +her eyes sparkled from mere anticipation as she looked appealingly +to her grandfather, who, though classing parties with the pomps and +vanities from which he would shield his child, still remembered that he +once was young, that fifty years ago he, too, like Maddy, wanted "to +see the folly of it," and not take the mere word of older people that +in every festive scene there was a pitfall, strewn over so thickly with +roses that it was ofttimes hard to tell just where its boundary line +commenced. Besides that, grandpa had faith in Guy, and so his consent +was granted, and Maddy was soon on her way to Aikenside, which presented +a gayer, busier appearance than she had ever known before. Jessie was +wild with delight, dragging forth at once the pink dress which she was +to wear, and whispering to Maddy that Guy had bought a dark blue silk +for her, and that Sarah Jones was at that moment fashioning it after a +dress left there by Maddy the previous summer. + +"Mother said plain white muslin was more appropriate for a young girl, +but Brother Guy said no; fee blue would be useful after the party; +it was what you needed, and so he bought it and paid a dollar and +three-quarters a yard, but it's a secret until you are called to try it +on. Isn't Guy splendid?" + +He was indeed splendid, Maddy thought, wondering why he was so kind to +her, and if it would be so when Lucy came. The dress fitted admirably, +only Maddy thought grandpa would say it was too low in the neck, but +Sarah overruled her objections, assisted by Guy, who, when the dress was +completed and tried on for the last time, was called in by Jessie to +see if "Maddy's neck didn't look just like cheese curd," and if "she +shouldn't have a piece sewed on as she suggested." The neck was _au +fait_, Guy said, laughing as Maddy for blushing so, and saying when +he saw how really distressed she seemed that he would provide her with +something to relieve the bareness of which she complained. "Oh, I know, +I saw, I peeked in the box," Jessie began, but Guy put his hand over the +little tattler's mouth, bidding her keep the result of her peeking to +herself. + +And for once Jessie succeeded in doing so, although she several times +set Maddy to guessing what it was Guy had for her in a box! As the size +of the box was not mentioned, Maddy had fully made up her mind to a +shawl or scarf, and was proportionately disappointed when, as she was +dressing for the party, there was sent up to her room a small round box, +scarcely large enough to hold an apple, much less a small scarf. The +present proved to be a pair of plain but heavy bracelets, and a most +exquisitely wrought chain of gold, to which was appended a beautiful +pearl cross, the whole accompanied with the words, "From Guy." Jessie +was in ecstasies again. Clasping the ornaments on Maddy's neck and +arms, she danced around her, declaring there never was anything more +beautiful, or anybody as pretty as Maddy was in her rich party dress. +Maddy was fond of jewelry--as what young girl is not?--and felt a flush +of gratified pride, or vanity, or satisfaction, whichever one chooses to +call it, as she glanced at herself in the mirror and remembered the +time when, riding with the doctor, she had met Mrs. Agnes, with golden +bracelets flashing on her arms, and wished she might one day wear +something like them. The day had come sooner than she then anticipated, +but Maddy was not as happy in possession of the coveted ornaments as she +had thought she should be. Somehow, it seemed to her that Guy ought not +to have given them to her, that it was improper for her to keep them, +and that both Mrs. Noah and Agnes thought so, too. She wished she knew +exactly what was right, and then, remembering that Guy had said the +doctor was expected early, she decided to ask his opinion on the subject +and abide by it. + +At first Agnes had cared but little about the party, affecting to +despise the people in their immediate neighborhood; but when Guy +gave her permission to invite from the adjoining towns, and even from +Worcester if she liked, her spirits arose; and when her toilet was +completed, she shone resplendent in lace and diamonds and curls, +managing to retain through all a certain simplicity of dress appropriate +to the hostess. But beautiful as Agnes was, she felt in her jealous +heart that there was about Maddy Clyde an attraction she did +not possess. Guy saw it, too, and while complimenting his pretty +mother-in-law, kept his eyes fixed admiringly on Maddy, who started him +into certain unpleasant remembrances by asking if the doctor had come +yet. + +"No--yes--there he was now," and Guy looked into the hall, where the +doctor's voice was heard inquiring for him. + +"I want to see him a minute, alone, please. There's something I want +to ask him." And, unmindful of Agnes' darkening frown, or Guy's look +of wonder, Maddy darted from the room, and ran hastily down the hall to +where the doctor stood, waiting for Guy, not for her. + +He had not expected to meet her thus, or to see her thus, and the sight +of her, grown so tall, so womanly, so stylish and so beautiful, almost +took his breath away. And yet, as he stood with her soft hand in his, +and surveyed her from head to foot, he felt that he would rather have +had her as she was when a dainty frill shaded her pale, wasted face, +when the snowy ruffle was fastened high about her throat, and the cotton +bands were buttoned about her wrists, where gold ones now were +shining. The doctor had never forgotten Maddy as she was then, the very +embodiment, he thought, of helpless purity. The little sick girl, so +dear to him then, was growing away from him now; and these adornings, +which marked the budding woman, seemed to remove her from him and place +her nearer to Guy, whose bride should wear silk and jewels, just as +Maddy did. + +She was very glad to see him, she said, asking in the same breath why +he had not been to the cottage, if she had not grown tall, and if he +thought her one bit improved with living in a city? + +"One question at a time, if you please," he said, drawing her a little +more into the shadow of the door where they would be less observed by +any one passing through. + +Maddy did not wait for him to answer, so eager was she to unburden her +mind and know if she ought to keep the costly presents, at which she +knew he was looking. + +"If he remembers his unpaid bill, he must consider me mighty mean," +she thought: and then, with her usual frankness, she told him of the +perplexity and asked his opinion. + +"It would displease Mr. Guy very much if I were to give them back," she +said: "but it hardly is right for me to accept them, is it?" + +The doctor did not say she ought not to wear the ornaments, though he +longed to tear them from her arms and neck and throw them anywhere, he +cared not where, so they freed her wholly from Guy. + +They were very becoming, he said. She would not look as well without +them; so she had better wear them to-night, and to-morrow, if she would +grant him an interview, he would talk with her further. + +Dissembling doctor! He said all this to gain the desired interview with +Maddy, the interview for which Guy was to prepare her. That he had not +done so he felt assured, but he could not be angry with him, as he came +smilingly toward them, asking if they had talked privacy long enough, +and glancing rather curiously at Maddy's face. There was nothing in its +expression to disturb him, and, offering her his arm, he led her back to +the drawing-rooms where Agnes was smoothing down the folds of her dress, +preparatory to receiving the guests just descending the stairs. It was +a brilliant scene which Aikenside presented that night, and amid it all +Agnes bore herself like a queen, while Jessie, with her sunny face and +golden hair, came in for a full share of attention. But amid the gay +throng there was none so fair or so beautiful as Maddy, who deported +herself with as much ease and grace as if she had all her life long +been accustomed to just such occasions as this. At a distance the doctor +watched her, telling several who she was, and once resenting by both +look and manner a remark made by Maria Cutler to the effect that she was +nobody but Mrs. Remington's governess, a poor girl whom Guy had taken a +fancy to educate out of charity. + +"He seems very fond of his charity pupil, upon my word. He scarcely +leaves her neighborhood at all," whispered old Mrs. Cutler, the mother +of Maria, who, Guy said, once fancied Dr. Holbrook, and who had +no particular objections to fancying him now, provided it could be +reciprocal. + +But the doctor was only intent on Maddy, knowing always just where she +was standing, just who was talking to her; and just how far from her Guy +was. He knew, too, when the latter was urging her to sing; and, managing +to get nearer, heard her object that no one cared to hear her. + +"But I do; I wish it," Guy replied in that tone which people generally +obeyed; and casting a half-frightened look at the sea of faces around +her, Maddy suffered him to lead her to the piano, sitting quite still +while he found what he wished her to play. + +It was his favorite song, and one which brought out Maddy's voice in its +various modulations. + +"Oh, please, Mr. Remington, anything but a song. I cannot sing," Maddy +whispered pleadingly; but Guy answered resolutely, "You can." + +There was no appeal after this, but a resigned, obedient look, which +made the doctor gnash his teeth as he leaned upon the instrument. What +right had Guy to command Maddy Clyde, and why should she obey? and yet, +as the doctor glanced at Guy, he felt that were he in Maddy's place, he +should do the same. + +"No girl can resist Guy Remington," he thought. "I'm glad there's a Lucy +Atherstone over the sea." And with a smile of encouragement for Maddy, +who was pale with nervous timidity, he listened while her sweet, +birdlike voice trembled for a moment with fear; and then, gaining from +its own sound, filled the room with melody, and made those who had +wandered off to other parts of the building hasten back to see who was +singing. + +Maria Cutler had presided at the piano earlier in the evening, as had +one or two other young ladies, but to none of these had Guy paid half +the attention he did to Maddy, staying constantly by her, holding her +fan, turning the leaves of music, and dictating what she should play. + +"There's devotion," tittered a miss in long ringlets; "but she really +does play well," and she appealed to Maria Cutler, who answered, "Yes, +she keeps good time, and I should think might play for a dance. I +mean to ask her," and going up to Guy she said, "I wish to speak +to--to--well, Jessie's governess. Introduce me, please." + +Guy waited till Maddy was through, and then gave the desired +introduction. In a tone not wholly free from superciliousness, Miss +Cutler said: + +"Can you play a waltz or polka, Miss Clyde? We are aching to exercise +our feet." + +Maddy bowed and struck into a spirited waltz, which set many of the +people present to whirling in circles, and produced the result which +Maria so much desired, viz: it drove Guy away from the piano, for he +could not mistake her evident wish to have him as a partner, and with +his arm around her waist he was soon moving rapidly from that part of +the room, leaving only the doctor to watch Maddy's fingers as they +flew over the keys. Maddy never thought of being tired. She enjoyed +the excitement, and was glad she could do something toward entertaining +Guy's guests. But Guy did not forget her for an instant. Through all +the mazes of the giddy dance, he had her before his eye, seeing not the +clouds of lace and muslin encircled by his arm, but the little figure in +blue sitting so patiently at the piano until he knew she must be tired, +and determined to release her. As it chanced, Maria was again his +partner, and drawing her nearer to Maddy, he said, "Your fingers ache by +this time, I am sure. It is wrong to trouble you longer. Agnes will take +your place while you try a quadrille with me." + +"Oh, thank you," Maddy answered. "I am not tired in the least. I had as +lief play till morning, provided they are satisfied with my time and my +stock of music holds out." + +"But it is not fair for one to do all the playing; besides, I want you +to dance with me--so consider yourself invited in due form to be my next +partner." + +Maddy's face crimsoned for an instant, and then in a low voice she said, +"I thank you, but I must decline." + +"Maddy!" Guy exclaimed, in tones more indicative of reproach than +expostulation. + +There were tears in Maddy's eyes, and Maria Cutler, watching her, +was vexed to see how beautiful was the expression of her face as she +answered frankly, "I have never told you that grandpa objected to my +taking dancing lessons when I wrote to him about it. He does not like me +to dance." + +"A saint!" Maria uttered under her breath, smiling contemptuously as she +made a movement to leave the piano, hoping Guy would follow her. + +But he did not at once. Standing for a moment irresolute, while he +looked curiously at Maddy, he said at last: + +"Of course I interfere with no one's scruples of that kind, but I cannot +allow you to wear yourself out for our amusement." + +"I like to play--please let me," was Maddy's reply; and, as the set upon +the floor were waiting for her, she turned to the instrument, while Guy +mechanically offered his arm to Maria, and sauntered toward the green +room. + +"What a blue old ignoramus that grandfather must be, to object to +dancing, don't you think so?" + +Maria laughed a little spitefully, secretly glad that Maddy had refused, +and secretly angry at Guy for seeming to care so much. + +"Say," she continued, as Guy did not answer her, "don't you think it +a sign that something is lacking in brains or education, when a person +sets up that dancing is wicked?" + +Guy would have taken Maddy's side then, whatever he might have thought, +and he replied: + +"No lack of brains, certainly; though education and circumstances have +much to do with one's views upon that subject. For my part, I like to +see people consistent. Now, that old ignoramus, as you call him, lays +great stress on pomp and vanities, and when I asked him once what he +meant by them, he mentioned dancing in particular as one of the things +which you, church people, promise to renounce;" and Guy bowed toward +Maria, who, knowing that she was one of the church people referred to, +winced perceptibly. + +"But this girl--this Maddy. There's no reason why she should decline," +she said; and Guy replied: "Respect for her grandfather, in her case, +seems to be stronger than respect for a higher power in some other +cases." + +"It's just as wicked to play for dancing as 'tis to dance," Maria +remarked impatiently, while Guy rejoined: + +"That is very possible; but I presume Maddy has never seen it in that +light, which makes a difference;" and the two retraced their steps to +the rooms where the gay revelers were still tripping to Maddy's stirring +music. + +After several ineffectual efforts Agnes had succeeded in enticing the +doctor away from the piano, and thus there was no one near to see how at +last the bright color began to fade from her cheeks as the notes before +her ran together, and the keys assumed the form of one huge key which +Maddy could not manage. There was a blur before her eyes, a buzzing in +her ears, and just as the dancers were entering heart and soul into +the merits of a popular polka, there was a sudden pause in the music, +a crash among the keys, and a faint cry, which to those nearest to her +sounded very much like "Mr. Guy," as Maddy fell forward with her face +upon the piano. It was hard telling which carried her from the room, the +doctor or Guy, or which face of the three was the whitest. Guy's was the +most frightened, for the doctor knew she had only fainted, while Guy, +struck with the marble rigidity of the face so recently flushed with +excitement, said at first, "She's dead," while over him there flashed +a feeling that life with Maddy dead would be desolate indeed. But Maddy +was not dead, and Guy, when he went back to his guests carried the news +that she had recovered from her faint, which she kindly ascribed to the +heat of the rooms, instead of fatigue from playing so long. The doctor +was with her and she was doing as well as could be expected, he said, +thinking within himself how he wished they would go home, and wondering +what attraction there was there, now that Maddy's place was vacant. Guy +was a vastly miserable man by the time the last guest had bidden him +good-night, and he had heard for the hundred-and-fiftieth time what a +delightful evening it had been. Politeness required that he should look +to the very last as pleasant and unconcerned as if upstairs there were +no little sick girl, all alone undoubtedly with Dr. Holbrook, whom he +mentally styled a "lucky dog," in that he was not obliged to appear +again in the parlors unless he chose. + +The doctor knew Maddy did not require his presence after the first +half hour, but he insisted upon her being sent to bed, and then went +frequently to her door until assured by Mrs. Noah that she was sleeping +soundly, and would, if let alone, be well as ever on the morrow, a +prediction which proved true, for when at a late hour next morning the +family met at the breakfast table, Maddy's was the brightest, freshest +face of the whole, not even excepting Jessie's. Maddy, too, was +delighted with the party, declaring that nothing but pleasurable +excitement and heat had made her faint, and then with all the interest +which young girls usually attach to fainting fits, she asked how she +looked, how she acted, if she didn't appear very ridiculous, and how she +got out of the room, saying the only thing she remembered after falling +was a sensation as if she were being torn in two. + +"That's it," cried Jessie, who readily volunteered the desired +information, "Brother Guy was 'way off with Maria Cutler, and doctor was +with mamma, but both ran, oh, so fast, and both tried to take you up. I +think Miss Cutler real hateful, for she said, so meanlike, 'Do you see +them pull her, as if 'twas of the slightest consequence which carried +her out?'" + +"Jessie," Guy interposed sternly, while the doctor looked disapprovingly +at the little girl, who subsided into silence after saying, in an +undertone, "I do think she's hateful, and that isn't all she said either +about Maddy." + +It was rather uncomfortable at the table after that, and rather quiet, +too, as Maddy did not care to ask anything more concerning her faint, +while the others were not disposed to talk. + +Breakfast over, the two young men repaired to the library, where Guy +indulged in his cigar, while the doctor fidgeted for a time, and then +broke out abruptly: + +"I say, Guy, have you said anything to her about--well, about me, you +know?" + +"Why, no, I've hardly had a chance; and then, again, I concluded it +better for each one to speak for himself;" and carelessly knocking the +ashes from his half-smoked cigar, Guy leaned back in his chair, with his +eyes, and, to all appearance, thoughts, wholly intent upon the curls of +smoke rising above his head. + +"Guy, if you were not engaged, I should be tempted to think you wanted +Maddy Clyde yourself," the doctor suddenly exclaimed, confronting Guy, +who, still watching the rings of smoke, answered with the most provoking +coolness, "You should?" + +"Yes, I should; and I am not certain but you do as it is, Guy," and the +doctor grew very earnest in his manner, "if you do care for Maddy Clyde, +and she for you, pray tell me so before I make a fool of myself." + +"Doctor," returned Guy, throwing the remains of his cigar into the grate +and folding his hands on his head, "you desire that I be frank, and I +will. I like Maddy Clyde very much--more indeed than any girl I ever +met--except Lucy. Had I never seen her--Lucy, I mean--I cannot tell how +I should feel toward Maddy. The chances are, however, that much as I +admire her, I should not make her my wife, even if she were willing. +But I have seen Lucy. I am engaged to be married. I shall keep that +engagement, and if you have feared me at all as a rival, you may fear me +no longer. I do not stand between you and Maddy Clyde." + +Guy believed that he was saying the truth, notwithstanding that his +heart beat faster than its wont and his voice was a little thick. It was +doubtful whether he would marry Maddy Clyde, if he could. By nature and +education he was very proud, and the inmates of the red cottage would +have been an obstacle to be surmounted by his pride. He knew they were +good, far, far better than himself; but, from his earliest +remembrance, he had been taught that blood and family and position were +all-important; that by virtue of them Remington was a name of which to +be proud; that his father's foolish marriage with a pretty governess +was the first misalliance ever known in the family, and that he was not +likely to follow that example was a point fully established in his own +mind. He might admire Maddy very much, and, perhaps, build castles of +what might possibly have been, had she been in his sphere of life; but, +should he verily think of making her his wife, the olden pride would +certainly come up a barrier between them. Guy could not explain all this +to the doctor, who would have been tempted to knock him down, if he +had; but he succeeded in quieting his fears, and even suggested bringing +Maddy in there, if the doctor wished to know his fate that morning. + +"I hear her now--I'll call her," he said; and, opening the door, he +spoke to Maddy, just passing through the hall. "Dr. Holbrook wishes to +see you," he said, as Maddy came up to him; and, holding the door +for her to enter, he saw her take the seat he had just vacated. Then, +closing it upon them, he walked away, thinking that last night's party, +or something, had produced a bad effect on him, making him blue and +wretched, just as he should suppose a criminal would feel when about to +be executed. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. -- THE DOCTOR AND MADDY. + + +Now that they were alone, the doctor's courage forsook him, and he could +only stammer out some commonplace remarks about the party, asking how +Maddy Lad enjoyed it, and if she was sure she had entirely recovered +from the effects of her fainting fit. He was not getting on at all, and +it was impossible for him to say anything as he had meant to say it. Why +couldn't she help him, instead of looking so unsuspiciously at him with +those large, bright eyes? Didn't she know how dear she was to him? He +should think she might. She might have divined it ere this; and if so, +why didn't she blush, or something? + +At last she came to his aid by saying, "You promised to tell me about +the bracelets and necklace, whether I ought to keep them." + +"Yes, oh yes, he believed he did." And getting up from his chair, the +doctor began to walk the floor, the better to hide his confusion. "Yes, +the bracelets. You looked very pretty in them, Maddy, very; but you are +always pretty--ahem--yes. If you were engaged to Guy, I should say it +was proper; but if not, why, I don't know; the fact is, Maddy, I am not +quite certain what I am saying, so you must excuse me. I almost hated +you that day you sent the note, telling me you were coming to be +examined; but I had not seen you then. I did not know how, after a +while--a very little while--I should in all probability--well, I did; I +changed my mind, and I--I guess you have not the slightest idea what I +mean." And stopping suddenly, he confronted the astonished Maddy, who +replied: + +"Not the slightest, unless you are going crazy." + +She could in no other way account for his strange conduct, and she sat +staring at him while he continued: "I told you once that when I wanted +my bill I'd let you know. I'd ask for pay. I want it now. I present my +bill." + +With a scared, miserable feeling, Maddy listened to him, wondering where +she should get the money, if it were possible for her grandfather to +raise it, and how much her entire wardrobe would bring, suppose she +should sell it! The bill had not troubled her latterly, for she had +fallen into a way of believing that the doctor would wait until she +was graduated and could earn it by teaching. Nothing could be more +inopportune than for him to present it now; and with a half-stifled sob +she began to speak, but he stopped her by a gesture, and sitting down +beside her, said, in a voice more natural than the one with which he had +at first addressed her: + +"Maddy, I know you have no money. It is not that I want, Maddy; I +want--I want--you." + +He bent down over her now, for her face was hidden in her hands, all +sense of sight shut out, all sense of hearing, too, save the words he +was pouring into her ear--words which burned their way into her heart, +making It throb for a single moment with gratified pride, and then +growing heavy as lead as she knew how impossible it was for her to pay +the debt in the way which he desired. + +"I can't, doctor; oh, I can't!" she sobbed. "I never dreamed of this; +never supposed you could want me for your wife. I'm only a little +girl--only sixteen last October--but I'm so sorry for you, who have been +so kind. If I only could love you as you deserve! I do love you, too; +but not the way you mean. I cannot be Maddy Holbrook; no; doctor, I +cannot." + +She was sobbing piteously, and in his concern for her the doctor forgot +somewhat the stunning blow he had received. + +"Don't, Maddy darling!" he said, drawing her trembling form closely to +him, "Don't be so distressed. I did not much think you'd tell me yes, +and I was a fool to ask you. I am too old; but, Maddy, Guy is as old as +I am." + +The doctor did not know why he said this, unless in the first keenness +of his disappointment there was a satisfaction in telling her that the +objection to his age would apply also to Guy. But it did not affect +Maddy one whit, or give her the slightest inkling of his meaning. He +saw it did not, and the pain was less to bear. Still, he would know +certainly if he had a rival, and so he said to her: + +"Do you love some one else, Maddy? Is another preferred before me, and +is that the reason why you cannot love me?" + +"No," Maddy answered, through her tears. "There is no one else. Whom +should I love, unless it were you? I know nobody but Guy." + +That name touched a sore, aching chord in the doctor's heart, but he +gave no sign of the jealousy which had troubled him, and for a moment +there was silence in the room; then, as the doctor began faintly to +realize that Maddy had refused him, there awoke within him a more +intense desire to win her than he had ever felt before. He would not +give her up without another effort, and laying her unresisting head upon +his bosom, he pleaded again for her love, going over all the past, and +telling of the interest awakened when first she came to him that April +afternoon, almost two years ago; then of the little sick girl who had +grown so into the heart never before affected in the least by womankind, +and lastly of the beautiful woman, as he called her, sitting beside +him now in all the freshness of her young womanhood. And Maddy, as she +listened, felt for him a strange kind of pity, a wish to do his bidding +if she only could, and why shouldn't she? Girls had married those whom +they did not love, and been tolerably happy with them, too. Perhaps she +could be so with the doctor. There was everything about him to respect, +and much which she could love. Should she try? There was a great lump in +Maddy's throat as she tried to speak, but it cleared away and she said +very sadly, but very earnestly, too: + +"Dr. Holbrook, would you like me to say yes with my lips, when all the +time there was something at my heart tugging to answer no?" + +This was not at all what Maddy meant to say, but the words were born of +her extreme truthfulness, and the doctor thus learned the nature of the +struggle which he saw plainly was going on. + +"No, Maddy, I would not have you say yes unless your heart was in it," +he answered, while he tried to smile upon the tearful face looking up so +sorrowfully at him. + +But the smile was a forlorn one, and there came instead a tear as he +thought how dear was the fair creature who never would be his. Maddy saw +the tear, and as if she were a child wiped it from his cheek; then, in +tones which never faltered, she told him it might be in time she'd learn +to love him. She would try so hard, she'd think of him always as her +promised husband, and by that means should learn at last not to shrink +from taking him for such. It might be ever so long, and perhaps she +should be twenty or more, but some time in the future she should feel +differently. Was he satisfied, and would he wait? + +Her little hand was resting on his shoulder, but he did not mind its +soft pressure or know that it was there, so strong was the temptation +to accept that half-made promise. But the doctor was too noble, to +unselfish to bind Maddy to himself unless she were wholly willing, +and he said to her that if she did not love him now she probably never +would. She could not make a love. She need not try, as it would only +result in her own unhappiness. They would be friends just as they always +had been, and none need know of what had passed between them, none but +Guy. "I must tell him" the doctor said, "because he knows that I was +going to ask you." + +Maddy could not explain why it was that she felt glad the doctor would +tell Guy. She did not analyze any of her feelings, or stop to ask why +she should care to have Guy Remington know the answer she had given Dr. +Holbrook. He was going to him now, she was sure, for he arose to leave +her, saying he might not see her again before she returned to New York. +She did not mention his bill. That was among the bygones, a thing never +again to be talked about, and offering him her hand, she looked for an +instant earnestly into his face, then without a word, hurried from the +room, while the doctor, with a sad, heavy heart, went in quest of Guy. + +"Refused you, did you say?" and Guy's face certainly looked brighter +than it had before since he left the doctor with Maddy Clyde. + +"Yes, refused me, as I might have known she would," was the doctor's +reply, spoken so naturally that Guy looked up quickly to see if he +really did not care. + +But the expression of the face belied the calmness of the voice; +and, touched with genuine pity, Guy asked the cause of the +refusal--"preference for any one else, or what?" + +"No, there was no one whom she preferred. She merely did not like me +well enough to be my wife, that was all," the doctor said, and then he +tried to talk of something else; but it would not do. The wound was yet +too fresh and sore to be covered up, and in spite of himself the bearded +chin quivered and the manly voice shook as he bade good-by to Guy, and +then went galloping down the avenue. + +Great was the consternation among the doctor's patients when it was +known that their pet physician--the one in whose skill they had so much +confidence--was going to Europe, where in Paris he could perfect himself +in his profession. Some cried, and among them Agnes; some said he +knew enough already; some tried to dissuade him from his purpose; some +wondered at the sudden start, while only two knew exactly why he was +going--Guy and Maddy; the former approving his decision and lending +his influence to make his tour abroad as pleasant as possible; and the +latter weeping bitterly as she thought how she had sent him away, and +that if aught befell him on the sea or in that distant land, she would +be held amenable. Once there came over her the wild impulse to bid him +stay, to say that she would be his wife; but, ere the rash act was done, +Guy came down to the cottage, and Maddy's resolution gave way at once. + +It would be difficult to tell the exact nature of Maddy's liking for +Guy at that time. Had he offered himself to her she would probably have +refused him even more promptly than she did the doctor; for, to all +intents and purposes, he was, in her estimation, the husband of Lucy +Atherstone. As such, there was no harm in making him her paragon of all +male excellence; and Guy would have felt flattered, could he have known +how much he was in that young girl's thoughts. But now for a few days he +had a rival, for Maddy's thoughts were all given to the doctor, who came +down to see her once before starting for Europe. She did not cry while +he was there, but her voice was strange and hoarse as she gave him +messages for Lucy Atherstone; and all that day her face was white and +sad, as are the faces of those who come back from burying their dead. + +Only once after the party did she go up to Aikenside, and then, +summoning all her fortitude, she gave back to Guy the bracelets and the +necklace, telling him she ought not to wear them; that ornaments as rich +as these were not for her; that her grandmother did not wish her to keep +them, and he must take them back. Guy saw she was in earnest, and much +against his will he received again the ornaments he had been so happy in +purchasing. + +"They would do for Jessie when she was older," Maddy said; but Guy +thought it very doubtful whether Jessie would ever have them. They were +something he had bought for Maddy, something she had worn, and as such +they were too sacred to be given to another. So he laid them away beside +the picture guarded so carefully from every one. + +Two weeks afterward Aikenside presented again a desolate, shut-up +appearance, for Agnes, Maddy and Jessie had returned to New York; Agnes +to continue the siege which, in despair of winning the doctor, she +had commenced against a rich old bachelor, who had a house on Madison +Square; and Maddy to her books, which ere long obliterated, in a +measure, the bitter memory of all that had transpired during her winter +vacation. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. -- WOMANHOOD. + + +Two years pass quickly, particularly at school, and to Maddy Clyde, +talking with her companions of the coming holidays, it seemed hardly +possible that two whole years were gone since the eventful vacation when +Dr. Holbrook had so startled her by offering her his hand. He was in +Europe still, and another name than his was on the little office in +Mrs. Conner's yard. To Maddy he now wrote frequently; friendly, familiar +letters, such as a brother might write, never referring to the past, +but telling her whatever he thought would interest and please her. +Occasionally at first, and more frequently afterward, he spoke of +Margaret Atherstone, Lucy's younger sister, a brilliant, beautiful girl +who reminded him, he said, of Maddy, only she was saucier, and more of +a tease; not at all like Lucy, whom he described as something perfectly +angelic. Her twenty-fifth birthday found her on a sickbed, with Dr. +Holbrook in attendance, and this was the reason given why the marriage +between herself and Guy was again deferred. There had been many weeks +of pain, succeeded by long, weary months of languor, and during all +this time the doctor had been with her as the family physician, while +Margaret also had been constantly in attendance. But Lucy was much +better now. She could sit up all day, and even walk a little distance, +assisted by the doctor and Margaret, whose name had become to be almost +as familiar to Maddy as was that of Lucy. And Maddy, in thinking of +Margaret, sometimes wondered "if----" but never went any farther than +that. Neither did she ask Guy a word about her, though she knew he must +have seen her. She not say much to him of Lucy, but she wondered why he +did not go for her, and wanted to talk with him about it but he was so +changed that she dared not. He was not sociable, as of old, and Agnes +did not hesitate to call him cross, while Jessie complained that he +never walked or played with her now, but sat all day long in a deep +reverie of some kind. + +On this account Maddy did not look forward to the coming vacation as +joyfully as she would otherwise have done. Still it was, always pleasant +going home, and she sat talking with her young friends of all they +expected to do, when a servant entered the room and glancing over the +group of girls, singled Maddy out saying, as he placed an unsealed +envelope in her hand. "A telegram for Miss Clyde." + +There was a blur before Maddy's eyes, so that at first she could not see +clearly, and Jessie, climbing on the bench beside her, read aloud: + +"Your grandmother is dying. Come at once. Agnes and Jessie will stay +till next week. + + "Guy Remington" + +It was impossible to go that afternoon but with the earliest dawn she +was up, and unmindful of the snow falling so rapidly, started on the +sad journey home. It was the first genuine storm of the season, and it +seemed resolved on making amends for past neglect, sweeping in furious +gusts against the windows sifting down in thick masses from the leaden +sky, and so impeding the progress of the train that the chill wintery +night had closed gloomily in ere the Sommerville station was reached, +and Maddy, weary and dispirited, stepped out upon the platform, glancing +anxiously around for the usual omnibus, which she had little hope would +be there on such a night. If not, what should she do? This had been the +burden of her thoughts for the last few hours, for she could not expect +Guy to send out his horses in this fearful storm, much less to be there +himself. But Guy was there, and it was his voice which first greeted her +as she stood half blinded by the snow, uncertain what she must do next. + +"Ah, Mr. Remington, I didn't expect this. I am so glad, and how kind +it was of you to wait for me!" she exclaimed, her voice expressing her +delight, and amply repaying the young man, who had not been very patient +or happy through the six long hours of waiting he had endured. + +But he was both happy and patient now with Maddy's hand in his, and +pressing it very gently he led her into the ladies' room; then making +her sit down before the fire he brushed her snowy garments himself, +and dashing a few flakes from her disordered hair, told her what she so +eagerly asked to know. Her grandmother had had a paralytic stroke, and +the only word she had uttered since was "Maddy." Guy had not been down +himself, but had sent Mrs. Noah as soon as Farmer Green had brought the +news. She was there yet, he said, the storm having prevented her return. + +"And grandma?" Maddy gasped, fixing her eyes wistfully upon him. "You do +not think her dead?" + +No, Guy did not, and stooping he asked if he should not remove from the +dainty little feet resting on the stove hearth the overshoes, so full +of melting snow. Maddy cared little for her shoes, or herself just then. +She hardly knew that Guy was taking them off, much less that, as he bent +beside her, her hand lay lightly upon his shoulder as she continued her +questionings. + +"She is not dead, you say; but do you think-does any-body think she'll +die? Your telegram said 'dying.'" + +Maddy was not to be deceived, and thinking it best to be frank with her, +Guy told her that the physician, whom he had taken pains to see on his +way to the depot, had said there was no hope. Old age and an impaired +constitution precluded the possibility of recovery, but he trusted she +might live till the young lady came. + +"She must--she will! Oh, grandma, why did I ever leave her?" and burying +her face in her hands. Maddy cried passionately, while the last three +years of her Life passed in rapid review before her mind--years which +she had spent in luxurious ease, leaving her grandmother to toil in the +humble cottage, and die at the last, it might be, without one parting +word for her. + +The feeling that perhaps she had been guilty of neglect, was the +bitterest of all, and Maddy wept on, unmindful of Guy's attempts to +soothe and quiet her. At last, as she heard a clock in the adjoining +room strike eight, she started up exclaiming "I have stayed too long. I +must go now. Is there any conveyance here?" + +"But, Maddy," Guy rejoined, "you cannot go to-night. The roads between +here and Honedale are one unbroken snow bank. It would take hours to +break through; besides you are too tired. You need rest, and must come +with me to Aikenside, where you are expected, for when I found how +late the train would be, I sent back word to have your room and parlors +warmed, and a nice hot supper to be ready for us. You'll surely go with +me, if I think best." + +Guy's manner was more like a lover than a friend, but Maddy was in no +state to remark it. She only felt an intense desire to go home, and +turning a deaf ear to all he could urge, replied: "You don't know how +dear grandma is to me, or you would not ask me to stay. She's all the +mother I ever knew, and I must go. Think, would you stay if the one you +loved best was dying?" + +"But the one I love best is not dying, so I can reason clearly, Maddy." + +Here Guy checked himself, and listened while Maddy asked again if there +was no conveyance there as usual. + +"None but mine," said Guy, while Maddy continued faintly: + +"And you are afraid it will kill your horses?" + +"No, it would only fatigue them greatly; it's for you I fear. You've +borne enough to-day." + +"Then, Mr. Remington, oh, please send me. I shall die at Aikenside. John +will drive me, I know. He used to like me. I'll ask him," and Maddy was +going in quest of the Aikenside coachman, when Guy held her back, and +said: + +"John will go if I bid him. But you, Maddy, if I thought it was safe." + +"It is. Oh, let me go," and Maddy grasped both his hands beseechingly. + +If there was a man who could resist the eloquent appeal of Maddy's eyes +at that moment, the man was not Guy Remington, and leaving her alone, +he sought out John, asking if it would be possible to get through to +Homedale that night. + +John shook his head decidedly, but when Guy explained Maddy's distress +and anxiety, the negro began to relent, particularly as he saw his young +master, too, was interested. + +"It'll kill them horses," he said, "but mabby that's nothin' to please +the girl." + +"If we only had runners now, instead of wheels, John," Guy said, after +a moment's reflection. "Drive back to Aikenside as fast as possible, and +change the carriage for a covered sleigh. Leave the grays at home and +drive a pair of farm horses. They can endure more. Tell Flora to send +my traveling shawl. Miss Clyde may need it, and an extra buffalo, and a +bottle of wine, and my buckskin gloves, and take Tom on with you, and a +snow shovel; we may have to dig." + +"Yes, yes, I know," and tying his muffler about his throat, John started +off through the storm, his mind a confused medley of ideas, the main +points of which were, bottles of wine, snow shovels, and the fact that +his master was either crazy or in love. + +Meanwhile, with the prospect of going home, Maddy had grown quiet, and +did not refuse the temporary supper of buttered toast, muffins, steak +and hot coffee, which Guy ordered from the small hotel just in the +rear of the depot. Tired, nervous, and almost helpless, she allowed Guy +himself to prepare her coffee, taking it from his hand and drinking +it at his bidding as obediently as a child. There was a feeling of +delicious rest in being cared for thus, and but for the dying one at +Honedale she would have enjoyed it vastly. As it was, though, she never +for a moment forgot her grandmother. She did forget, in a measure, her +anxiety, and was able to think how kind, how exceedingly kind Guy was. +He was like what he used to be, she thought, only kinder, and thinking +it was because she was in trouble, she accepted all his little +attentions willingly, feeling how pleasant it was to have him there, +and thinking once with a half shudder of the long, cold ride before her, +when Guy would no longer be present, and also of the dreary home where +death might possibly be a guest ere she could reach it. + +It was after nine ere John appeared, his crisp wool powdered with snow +which clung to his outer garments, and literally covered his dark, cloth +cap. + +"'Twas mighty deep," he said, bowing to Maddy, "and the wind was getting +colder. 'Twas a hard time Miss Clyde would have, and hadn't she better +wait?" + +No, Maddy could not wait, and standing up she suffered Guy to wrap her +cloak about her, and fasten more securely the long, warm scarf she wore +around her neck. + +"Drive close to the platform," he said to John, and the covered sleigh +was soon brought to the point designated. "Now then, Maddy, I won't +let you run the risk of covering your feet with snow. I shall carry you +myself," Guy said, and ere Maddy was fully aware of his intentions, he +had her in his arms, and was bearing her to the sleigh. + +Very carefully he drew the soft, warm robe about her, shielding her as +well as he could from the cold; then pulling his own fur collar about +his ears, he sprang in beside her, and, closing the door behind him, +bade John drive on. + +"But, Mr. Remington," Maddy exclaimed in much surprise, "surely you are +not going too? You must not. It is asking too much. It is more than I +expected. Please don't go." "Would you rather I should not--that is, +aside from any inconvenience it may be to me--would you rather go +alone?" Guy asked, and Maddy replied: + +"Oh, no. I was dreading the long ride, but did not dream of your going. +You will shorten it so much." "Then I shall be paid for going," was +Guy's response, as he drew still more closely around her the fancy +buffalo robe. + +The roads, though badly drifted in some places, were not as bad as Guy +had feared, and the strong horses kept steadily on; while Maddy, growing +more and more fatigued, at last fell away to sleep, and ceased to answer +Guy, For a time he watched her drooping head, and then carefully drawing +it to him, made it rest upon his shoulder, while he wound his arm +around her slight figure, and so supported her. He knew she was sleeping +quietly, by her gentle breathings; and once or twice he involuntarily +passed his hand caressingly over her soft, round cheek, feeling the +blood tingle to his finger tips as he thought of his position there, +with Maddy Clyde sleeping in his arms. What would Lucy say, could she +see him? And the doctor, with his strict ideas of right and wrong, would +he object? Guy did not know, and, with his usual independence, he +did not care. At least, he said to himself he did not care; and so, +banishing both the doctor and Lucy from his mind, he abandoned himself +to the happiness of the moment--a singular land of happiness, inasmuch +as it merely consisted in the fact that Maddy Clyde's young head was +pillowed on his bosom, and that, by bending down, he could feel her +sweet breath on his face. Occasionally there flitted across Guy's mind +a vague, uneasy consciousness that though the act was, under the +circumstances, well enough, the feelings which prompted it were not such +as either the doctor or Lucy would approve. But they were far away; they +would never know unless he told them, as he probably should, of this +ride on that wintry night; this ride, which seemed to him so short +that he scarcely believed his senses when, without once having been +overturned or called upon to use the shovels so thoughtfully provided, +the carriage suddenly came to a halt, and he knew by the dim light +shining through the low window that the red cottage was reached. + +Grandma Markham was dying, but she knew Maddy, and the palsied lips +worked painfully as they attempted to utter the loved name; while her +wasted face lighted up with eager joy as Maddy's arms were twined about +her neck, and she felt Maddy's kisses on her cheek and brow. Could she +not speak? Would she never speak again, Maddy asked despairingly, and +her grandfather replied: "Never, most likely. The only thing she's said +since the shock was to call your name; She's missed you despatly this +winter back, more than ever before, I think. So have we all, but we +would not send for you--Mr. Guy said you was learning so fast." "Oh, +grandpa, why didn't you? I would have come so willingly," and for +an instant Maddy's eyes flashed reproachfully upon the recreant Guy, +standing aloof from the little group gathered about the bed, his arms +folded together, and a moody look upon his face. + +He was thinking of what had not yet entered Maddy's mind, thinking of +the future--Maddy's future, when the aged form upon the bed should be +gone, and the two comparatively helpless men be left alone. + +"But it shall not be. The sacrifice is far too great. I can prevent it, +and I will," he muttered to himself, as he turned to watch the gray dawn +breaking in the east. Guy was a puzzle to himself. He would not admit +that during the past year his liking for Maddy Clyde had grown to be +something stronger than mere friendship, nor yet that his feelings +toward Lucy had undergone a change, prompting him not to go to her when +she was sick, and not to be as sorry as he ought that the marriage was +again deferred. Lucy had no suspicion of the change and her childlike +trust in him was the anchor which held him still true to her in +intentions at least, if not in reality. He knew from her letters how +much she had learned to like Maddy Clyde, and so, he argued, there was +no harm in his liking her too. She was a splendid girl, and it seemed a +pity that her lot should have been so humbly cast. This was usually the +drift of his thoughts in connection with her; and now, as he stood +there its that cottage, Maddy's home, they recurred to him with tenfold +intensity, for well he foresaw that a struggle was before him if he +rescued Maddy as he meant to do from her approaching fate. + +No such thoughts, however, intruded themselves on Maddy's mind. She did +not look away from the present, except it were at the past, in which she +feared she had erred by leaving her grandmother too much alone. But to +her passionate appeals for forgiveness, if she ever had neglected the +dying one, there came back only loving looks and mute caresses, the aged +hand smoothing lovingly the bowed head, or pressing fondly the girlish +cheeks where Guy's hand had been. With the coming of daylight, however, +there was a change; and Maddy, listening intently, heard what sounded +like her name. The tied tongue was loosed for a little, and in tones +scarcely articulate, the disciple who for long years had served her +Heavenly Father faithfully, bore testimony to the blessed truth that +God's promises to those who love Him are not mere promises--that He will +go with them through the river of death, disarming the fainting soul +of every fear, and making the dying bed the very gate of heaven. This +tribute to the Savior was her first thought, while the second was a +blessing for her darling, a charge to seek the narrow way now in life's +early morning. Disjointed sentences they were, but Maddy understood them +all, treasuring up every word even to the last, the words the farther +apart and most painfully uttered, "You--will--care--and--comfort----" +She did not say whom, but Maddy knew whom she meant; and without then +realizing the magnitude of the act, virtually accepted the burden from +which Guy was so anxious to save her. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. -- THE BURDEN. + + +Grandma Markham was dead, and the covered sleigh, which late in the +afternoon plowed its way heavily back to Aikenside, carried only Mrs. +Noah, who, with her forehead tied up in knots, sat back among the +cushions, thinking not of the peaceful dead, gone forever to the rest +which remains for the people of God, but of the wayward Guy, who had +resisted all her efforts to persuade him to return with her, instead of +staying where he was, not needed, and where his presence was a restraint +to all save one, and that one Maddy, for whose sake he stayed. + +"She'd be vummed," the indignant old lady said, "if she would not write +to Lucy herself if Guy did not quit such doin's," and thus resolving +she kept on her way, while the subject of her wrath was, it may be, more +than half repenting of his decision to stay, inasmuch as he began to +have an unpleasant consciousness of himself being in everybody's way. + +In the first hour of Maddy's bereavement he had not spoken with her, +but had kept himself aloof from the room where, with her grandfather and +Uncle Joseph, she sat, holding the poor aching head of the latter in her +lap and trying to speak a word of consolation to the old, broken-hearted +man, whose hand was grasped in hers. But Maddy knew he was there. She +could hear his voice each time he spoke to Mrs. Noah, and that made the +desolation easier to bear. She did not look forward to the time when he +would be gone; and when at last he told her he was going, she started +quickly, and with a gush of tears, exclaimed: "No, no! oh, no!" + +"Maddy," Guy whispered, bending over the strange trio, "would you rather +I should stay? Will it be pleasanter for you, if I do?" + +"Yes--I don't know. I guess it would not be so lonely. Oh, it's terrible +to have grandmother dead!" was Maddy's response; after which Guy would +have stayed if a whole regiment of Mrs. Noah's had confronted him +instead of one. + +Maddy wished it; that was reason enough for him; and giving a few +directions to John, he stayed, thereby disconcerting the neighboring +women who came in to perform the last offices for the dead, and who +wished the young man from Aikenside was anywhere but there, watching +them in all their movements, as they vainly fancied he did. But Guy +thought only of Maddy, watching her so carefully that more than one +meaning glance was exchanged between the women, who, even over the +inanimate form of the dead, spoke together of what might possibly occur, +wondering what would be the effect on Grandpa Markham and Uncle Joseph. +Who would take care of them? And then, in case Maddy should feel it her +duty to stay there, as they half hoped she would, they fell to pitying +the young girl, who seemed now so wholly unfitted for the burden. + +To Maddy there came no definite idea of the future during the two days +that white, rigid form lay in the darkened cottage; but when, at last, +the deep grave made for Grandma Markham was occupied, and the lounge in +the little front room was empty--when the Aikenside carriage, which had +been sent down for the use of the mourners, had been driven away, taking +both Guy and Mrs. Noah--when the neighbors, too, had gone, leaving only +herself and the little hired girl sitting by the evening fire, with the +grandfather and the imbecile Uncle Joseph--then it was that she first +began to fed the pressure of the burden--began to ask herself if she +could live thus always, or at least for many years--as long as either of +the two helpless men were spared. Maddy was young, and the world as +she had seen it was very bright and fair, brighter far than a life of +laborious toil, and for a while the idea that the latter alternative +must be accepted made her dizzy and faint. + +As if divining her thoughts, poor old grandpa, in his prayers that +night, asked in trembling tones, which showed how much he felt what he +was saying, that God would guide his darling in all she did, and give +her wisdom to make the proper decision; that if it were best she might +be happy there with them, but if not, "Oh, Father, Father!" he sobbed, +"help me and Joseph to bear it." He could pray no more aloud, and the +gray head remained bowed down upon his chair, while Uncle Joseph, in his +peculiar way, took up the theme, begging like a very child that Maddy +might be inclined to stay--that no young men with curling hair, a +diamond cross, and smell of musk, might be permitted to come near her +with enticing looks, but that she might stay as she was and die an old +maid forever! This was the subject of Uncle Joseph's prayer, a prayer +which set the little hired girl to tittering, and would have wrung +a smile from Maddy herself had she not felt all the strange petition +implied. + +With waywardness natural to people in his condition, Uncle Joseph that +night turned to Maddy for the little services his sister had formerly +rendered, and which, since her illness, Grandpa Markham had done, and +would willingly do still. But Joseph refused to let him. Maddy must +untie his cravat, unbutton his vest, and take off his shoes, while, +after he was in bed, Maddy must sit by his side, holding his hand until +he fell away to sleep. And Maddy did it cheerfully, soothing him +into quiet, and keeping back her own choking sorrow for the sake +of comforting him. Then, when this task was done she sought her +grandfather, still sitting before the kitchen fire and evidently waiting +for her. The little hired girl had retired, and thus there was no +barrier to free conversation between them. + +"Maddy," the old man said, "come sit close by me, where I can look into +your face, while we talk over what must be done." + +With a half shudder, Maddy drew a stool to her grandfather's feet, and +resting her head upon his knee, listened while he talked to her of +the future; told her all her grandmother had done; told of his own +helplessness; of the trial it was to care for Uncle Joseph, and then in +faltering tones asked who was going to look after them now. "We can't +live here alone, Maddy. We can't. We're old and weak, and want some one +to lean on. Oh, why didn't God take us with her, Joseph and me, and that +would leave you free, to go back to the school and the life which I know +is pleasanter than to stay here with us. Oh, Maddy! it comforts me to +look at you--to hear your voice, to know that though I don't see you +every minute, you are somewhere, and by and by you'll come in. I shan't +live long, and maybe Joseph won't. God's promise is to them who honor +father and mother. It'll be hard for you to stay, harder than it was +once; but, Maddy, oh, Maddy! stay with me, stay with me!--stay with your +old grandpa!" + +In his earnestness he grasped her arm, as if he thus would hold her, +while the tears rained over his wrinkled face. For a moment Maddy made +no response. She had no intention of leaving him, but the burden was +pressing heavily and her tongue refused to move. Maddy was then a +stranger to the religion which was sustaining her grandfather in his +great trouble, but the teachings of her childhood had not been in vain. +She was God's covenant child. His protecting presence was over and +around her, moving her to the right. New York, with its gay sights, +her school, where in another year she was to graduate, the trip to +the Catskills which Guy had promised Mrs. Agnes, Jessie and herself, +Aikenside with its luxurious ease--all these must be given up, while, +worse than all the rest, Guy, too, must be given up. He would not come +there often; the place was not to his taste, and in time he would cease +to care for her as he cared for her now. "Oh, that would be dreadful!" +she groaned aloud, while here thoughts went backward to that night ride +in the snowstorm, and the numberless attentions he had paid her then. +She would never ride with him again--never; and Maddy moaned bitterly, +as she began to realize for the first time how much she liked Guy +Remington, and how the giving him up and his society was the hardest +part of all. But Maddy had a brave young heart, and at last, winding +her arms around her grandfather's neck, she whispered: "I will not leave +you, grandpa. I'll stay in grandmother's place." + +Surely Heaven would answer the blessings whispered over Maddy by the +delighted old man, and the young girl taking so cheerfully the burden +from which many would have shrunk, should be blessed by God. + +With her grandfather's hand upon her head, Maddy could almost feel that +the blessing was descending; but when, in her own room, the one where +she had lain sick for so many weary weeks, her courage began to give +way, and the burden, magnified tenfold by her nervous weakness, looked +heavier than she could bear. How could she stay there, going through +each day with the same routine of literal drudgery--drudgery which would +not end until the two for whom she made the sacrifice were dead. + +"Oh, is there no way of escape, no help?" she moaned, as she tossed from +side to side, "Must my life be wasted here. Surely---" + +Maddy did not finish the sentence, for something checked the words of +repining, and she seemed to hear again her grandfather's voice as it +repeated the promise to those who keep with their whole souls the fifth +commandment. + +"I will, I will," she cried, while into her heart there crept an intense +longing for the love of him who alone could make her task a light one. +"If I were good like grandma, I could bear everything," she thought, and +turning upon her pillow, Maddy prayed an earnest, childlike prayer, +that God would help her do night, that He would take from her the proud +spirit which rebelled against her lot because of its loneliness, that +pride and love of her own ease and advancement in preference to others' +good might all be subdued; in short that she might be God's child, +walking where He appointed her to walk without a murmur, and doing +cheerfully His will. + +Aikenside, and school, and the Catskill Mountains were easier to abandon +after that contrite prayer; but when she thought of Guy, the fiercest, +sharpest pang she had ever felt shot through her heart, making her cry +out so quickly that the little hired girl who shared her bed moved as if +about to waken, but Maddy lay very quiet until all was still again, when +turning a second time to God she tried to pray, tried to give up what to +her was the dearest idol, but she could not say the words, and ere she +knew what she was doing she found herself asking that Guy should not +forsake her. "Let him come," she sobbed, "let Guy come some time to see +me". + +Once the tempter whispered to her, that had she accepted Dr. Holbrook +she would have been spared all this, but Maddy turned a deaf ear to that +suggestion. Dr. Holbrook was too noble a man to have an unloving wife, +and not for a moment did she repent of her decision with regard to him. +She almost knew he would say now that she was right in refusing him, and +right in staying there, as she must. Thoughts of the doctor quieted her, +she believed, not knowing that Heaven was already owning its submissive +child, and breathing upon it a soothing benediction. The moan of the +winter wind and the sound of the snow beating against her little window +ceased to annoy her. Heaven, happiness, Aikenside and Guy, all seem +blended into one great good just within her reach, and when the long +clock below the stairs struck three, she did not hear it, but with the +tear stains upon her face she lay nestled among her pillows, dreaming +that her grandmother had come back from the bright world of glory to +bless her darling child. + +It was broad noon ere Maddy awoke, and starting up she looked about her +in bewilderment, wondering where she was and what agency had been at +work in her room, transforming it from the cold, comfortless apartment +she had entered the previous night into the cheery-looking chamber, with +a warm fire blazing in the tiny fireplace, a rug spread down upon the +hearth, a rocking-chair drawn up before it, and all traces of the little +hired girl as completely obliterated as if she had never been. In her +grief Maddy seemed to have forgotten how to make things cozy, and as, +during her grandmother's illness, her own room had been left to the care +of the hired girl, Nettie, it wore a neglected, rude aspect, which had +grated on Maddy's finer feelings, and made everything so uninviting. +But this morning all was changed. Some skillful hand had been busy there +while she slept, and Maddy was wondering who it could be, when the door +opened cautiously and Flora's good-humored face looked in--Flora from +Aikenside. Maddy knew now to whom she was indebted for all this comfort, +and with a cry of joy she welcomed the girl, whose very presence brought +back something of the life with which she had parted forever. + +"Flora," she exclaimed, "how came you here, and did you make this fire +and fix the room for me?" + +"Yes, I made the fire," Flora replied, "and fixed up the things a +little, hustlin' that young one's goods out of here; because it was not +fittin' for you to be sleepin' with her. Mr. Guy was mad enough when he +found it out." + +"Mr. Guy, Flora? How should he know of our sleeping 'rrangements?" Maddy +asked, but Flora evaded a direct reply, saying, "there was enough ways +for things to get to Aikenside;" then continuing, "How tired you must +be, Miss Maddy, to sleep so sound as never to hear me at all, though to +be sure I tried to be still as a mouse. But let me help you dress. +It's all but noon, and you must be hungry. I've got your breakfast all +ready." + +"Thank you, Flora, I can dress myself," Maddy said, stepping out upon +the floor, and feeling that the world was not as dark as it had seemed +to her when last night she came up to her chamber. + +God was comforting her already, and as she made her simple toilet, she +tried to thank Him for His goodness, and ask for grace to make her what +she ought to be. + +"You have not yet told me why you came here," she said to Flora, who was +busy making her bed, and who replied: "It's Mr. Guy's work. He thought +I'd better come, as you would need help to get things set to rights, to +could go back to school." + +Maddy felt her heart coming up in her throat, but she answered calmly, +"Mr. Guy is very kind--so are you all; but, Flora, I am not going back +to school." "Not going back!" and Flora stopped her bed-making, while +she stared blankly at Maddy. "What be you going to do?" "Stay here and +take care of grandpa," Maddy said, bathing her face and neck in the cold +water, which could not cool the feverish heat she felt spreading all +over them. "Stay here! You are crazy, Miss Maddy! 'Tain't no place for +a girl like you, and Mr. Guy never will suffer it, I know," Flora +rejoined, as she resumed her work, thinking she "should die to be moped +up in that nutshell of a house." With a little sigh as she foresaw the +opposition she should probably meet with from Guy, Maddy went on with +her toilet, which was soon completed, as it did not take long to arrange +the dark calico dress and plain linen collar which she wore. She was not +as fresh-looking as usual that morning, for excitement and fatigue had +lent a paleness to her cheek, and a languor to her whole appearance, +but Flora, who glanced anxiously after her as she went out, muttered to +herself, "She was never more beautiful, and I don't wonder an atom that +Mr. Guy thinks so much of her." The kitchen was in perfect order, for +Flora had been busy there as elsewhere. The kettle was boiling on the +stove, while two or three little covered dishes were ranged upon the +hearth, as if waiting for some one. Grandpa Markham had gone out, but +Uncle Joseph sat in his accustomed corner, rubbing his hands when he saw +Maddy, and nodding mysteriously toward the front room, the door of which +was open, so that Maddy could hear the fire crackling on the hearth. + +"Go in, go in," Uncle Joseph said, waving his hand in that direction. +"My Lord Governor is in there waiting for you. He won't let me spit on +the floor any more as Martha did, and I've swallowed so much that I'm +almost choked." + +Continual spitting was one of Uncle Joseph's worst habits, and as his +sister had indulged him in it, it had become a source of great annoyance +both to Maddy, and to some one else of whose proximity Maddy did not +dream. Thinking that Uncle Joseph referred to her grandfather, and +feeling glad that the latter had attempted a reform, she entered the +room known at the cottage as the parlor, the one where the rag carpet +was, the six cane-seated chairs and the Boston rocker, and where now the +little round table was nicely laid for two, while cozily seated in the +rocking-chair, reading last night's paper, and looking very handsome and +happy, was Guy! + +When Maddy prayed that he might come and see her she did not expect an +answer so soon, and she started back in much surprise, while Guy came +easily forward to greet her, asking how she was, once telling her she +looked tired and thin, then making her take the chair he had vacated, he +stood over her, smoothing her hair, while he continued: + +"I have taken some liberties, you see, and have made myself quite at +home. I knew how unaccustomed you were to the duties of a house, and +as I saw that girl was wholly incompetent, I denied myself at least two +hours' sleep this morning for the sake of getting here early, bringing +Flora with me and a few things which I thought would be for your +comfort. You must excuse me, but Flora looked so cold when she came down +from your chamber, where I sent her to see how you were, that with your +grandfather's permission I ordered a fire to be kindled there. I hope +you found it comfortable. This house is very cold." + +He kept talking on, and Maddy in a delicious kind of bewilderment +listened to him, wondering if ever before there was a person so kind +and good as Guy. And really Guy was doing great violence to his pride by +being there as he was, but he could do anything for Maddy, and so he +had forced down his pride, trying for her sake to make the cottage as +pleasant as possible. With Flora to assist he had succeeded wonderfully, +and was really enjoying it himself. At first Maddy could not thank him, +her heart was so full, but Guy was satisfied with the expression of her +face, and calling Flora he bade her serve the breakfast. + +"You know my habits," he said, smilingly, as he took a seat at the +table, "and breakfasting at daylight, as I did, has given me an +appetite; so, with your permission, I'll carve this nice bit of steak +for you, while you pour me a cup of coffee, some of Mrs. Noah's +best. She"--Guy was going to say, "sent it," but as no stretch of the +imagination could construe her "calling him a fool" into sending Maddy +coffee, he added instead, "I brought it from Aikenside, together with +this strawberry jelly, of which I remember you were fond;" and he helped +Maddy lavishly from the fanciful jelly jar which yesterday was adorning +the sweetmeat closet at Aikenside. + +How chatty and social he was, trying to cheer Maddy up and make her +forget that such a thing as death had so lately found entrance there; +talking of Jessie, of Aikenside, of the pleasant little time they would +have during the vacation, and of the next term at school, when Maddy, +as one of the graduating class, would not be kept in as strictly as +heretofore, but allowed to see more of the city. Maddy felt as if she +should die for the pain tugging at her heart, while she listened to him +and knew that the pictures he was drawing were not for her. Her place +was there; and after the breakfast was over and Flora had cleared the +dishes away, she shut the door, so that they might be alone, and then +standing before Guy, she told him of her resolution, begging of him to +help her and not make it harder to bear by devising means for her +to escape what she felt to be an imperative duty. Guy had expected +something like this and was prepared, as he thought, to combat all her +arguments; so when she had finished, he replied that of course he did +not wish to interfere with her duty, but there might be a question as +to what really was her duty, and it seemed to him he was better able +to judge of that than herself. It was not right for her to bury herself +there while her education was unfinished, when another could do as well. +Her superior talents were given to her to improve, and how could she +improve them in Honedale; besides her grandfather did not expect her to +stay. Guy had talked with him while she was asleep, and the matter was +all arranged; a competent woman was to be hired to take charge of +the domestic arrangements, and if it seemed desirable, two should be +procured; anything to leave Maddy free. + +"And grandpa consented to this willingly?" Maddy said, feeling a throb +of pleasure at thoughts of release. But Guy could not answer that the +grandfather consented willingly. + +"He thinks it best. When he comes back you can ask him yourself," he +said, just as Uncle Joseph, opening the door, brought their interview to +a close by asking very meekly, "if it would please the Lord Governor to +let him spit!" + +The blood rushed at once to Maddy's face, and she not repress a smile, +white Guy laughed aloud, saying to her softly: "For your sake, I tried +my skill to stop what I knew must annoy you. Pardon me if I did wrong;" +then turning to Uncle Joseph, he gave the desired permission, together +with the promise of a handsome spittoon, which should be sent down on +the morrow. With a bow Uncle Joseph turned away, muttering to himself, +"High doings now Martha's gone; but new lords, new laws. I trust he's +not going to live here;" and slyly he asked Flora if the Lord Governor +had brought his things! + +At this point Grandpa Markham came in, and to him Guy appealed at once +to know if he were not willing for Maddy to return to school. + +"I said she might if she thought best," was the reply, spoken so sadly +that Maddy's arms were at once twined around the old man's neck, while +she said to him: + +"Tell me honestly which you prefer. I'd like so much to go to school, +but I am not sure I should be happy there, knowing how lonely you were +here at home. Say, grandpa, which would you rather now, honor bright?" +and Maddy tried to speak playfully, though her heart-beats were almost +audible as she waited for the answer. + +Grandpa could not deceive. He wanted his darling sorely, and he wanted +her to be happy, he said. Perhaps they would get on just as well without +her. When Mr. Guy was talking it looked as if they might, he made it all +so plain, but the sight of Maddy was a comfort. She was all he had left. +Maybe he shouldn't live long to pester her, and if he didn't wouldn't +she always feel better for having stayed with her old grandpa to the +last? + +He looked very pale and thin, and his hair was white as snow. He could +not live many years, and turning resolutely from Guy, who, so long as he +held her eye, controlled her, Maddy said: + +"I've chosen once for all. I'll stay with grandpa till he dies," and +with a convulsive sob she clung tightly to his neck, as if fearful that +without such told on him her resolution would give way. + +It was in vain that Guy strove to change Maddy's resolution. She was +wholly decided, and late in the afternoon he rode back to Aikenside, a +disappointed man, with, however, the feeling that Maddy had done right, +and that he respected her all the more for withstanding the temptation. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. -- LIFE AT THE COTTAGE. + + +It was arranged that Flora should for the present at least remain at the +cottage, and Maddy accepted the kindness gratefully. She had become so +much accustomed to being cared for by Guy that she almost looked upon it +as a matter of course, and did not think of what others might possibly +say, but when, in as delicate a manner as possible Guy suggested +furnishing the cottage in better style, even proposing to modernize +it entirely in the spring, Maddy objected at once. "They were already +indebted to him for more than they could ever pay," she said, and she +would not suffer it. So Guy submitted, though it grated upon his sense +of the beautiful and refined terribly, to see Maddy amid so humble +surroundings. Twice a week, and sometimes oftener, he rode down to +Honedale, and Maddy felt that without these visits life would hardly +have been endurable. + +During the vacation Jessie spent a part of the time with her, but Agnes +resolutely resisted all Guy's entreaties that she would at least call +once on Maddy, who had expressed a wish to see her, and who, on account +of her grandfather's health, and the childishness with which Uncle +Joseph clung to her, could not well come up to Aikenside. Agnes would +not go down, neither would she give other reason for her obstinacy than +the apparently foolish one that she did not wish to see the crazy man. +Still she did not object to Jessie's going as often as she liked, and +she sent by her many little delicacies from the larder at Aikenside, +some for grandpa, but most for Uncle Joseph, who prized highly +everything coming from "the madam," and sent back to her more than one +strangely worded message which made the proud woman's eyes overflow when +sure that no one could see her. But this kind of intercourse came to an +end at last. The vacation was over, Jessie had gone back to school, and +Maddy began in sober earnest the new life before her. Flora, it is +true, relieved her of all household drudgery, but no one could share the +burden of care and anxiety pressing so heavily upon her, anxiety for her +grandfather, whose health seemed failing so fast, and who always looked +so disturbed if a shadow were resting on her bright face, or her voice +were less cheerful in its tone, and care for the imbecile Joseph, who +clung to her as a puny child clings to its mother, refusing to be cared +for by any one else, and often requiring of her more than her strength +could endure for a great length of time. She it was who gave him his +breakfast in the morning, amused him through the day, and then, after he +was in bed at night, often sat by his side till a late hour, singing +to him old songs, or telling Bible stories until he fell away to sleep. +Then if he awoke, as he frequently did, there was a cry for Maddy, and +the soothing process had to be repeated, until the tired, pale watcher +ceased to wonder that her grandmother had died so suddenly, wondering +rather that she had lived so long and borne so much. + +Those were dark, wearisome days to Maddy, and the long, cold winter +was gone from the New England hills, and the early buds of spring were +coming up by the cottage door, the neighbors began to talk of the change +which had come over the young girl, once so full of life and health, +but now so languid and pale. Still Maddy was not unhappy, nor was the +discipline too severe, for by it she learned at last the great object of +life; learned to take her troubles and cares to One who helped her bear +them so cheerfully, that those who pitied her most never dreamed how +heavy was her burden, so patiently and sweetly she bore it. Occasionally +there came to her letters from the doctor, but latterly they gave +her less pleasure than pain, for as sure as she read one of his kind, +friendly messages of sympathy and remembrance, the tempter whispered to +her that though she did not love him as she ought to love her husband, +yet a life with him was far preferable to the life she was living, and +a receipt of his letters always gave her a pang which lasted until Guy +came down to see her, when it usually disappeared. Agnes was now at +Aikenside, and thus Maddy frequently had Jessie at the cottage, but +Agnes never came, and Maddy little guessed how often the proud woman +cried herself to sleep after listening to Jessie's recital of all Maddy +had to do for the crazy man, and how patiently she did it. He had taken +a fancy that Maddy must tell him stories of Sarah, describing her as she +was now, not as she used to be when he knew her, but now. "What is she +now? How does she look? What does she wear? Tell me, tell me!" he would +plead, until Maddy, forced to tell him something, and having distinctly +in her mind but one fashionable woman such as she fancied Sarah might +be, told him of Agnes Remington, describing her as she was in her mature +beauty, with her heavy flowing curls, her brilliant color, her flashing +diamonds and costly laces, and Uncle Joseph, listening to her with +parted lips and hushed breath, would whisper softly, "Yes, that's Sarah, +beautiful Sarah; but tell me--does she ever think of me, or of that time +in Hie orchard when I wove the apple blossoms in her hair, where the +diamonds are now? She loved me then; she told me so. Does she know how +sick, and sorry, and foolish I am?--how the aching in my poor, simple +brain is all for her, and how you, Maddy, are doing for me what it is +her place to do? Had I a voice," and the crazy man now grew excited, as, +raising himself in bed, he gesticulated wildly, "had I a voice to reach +her, I'd cry shame on her, to let you do her work, let you-wear your +young life and fresh, bright beauty all away for me, whom she ruined." + +The voice he craved, or the echo of it, did reach her, for Jessie had +been present when the fancy first seized him to hear of Sarah, and in +the shadowy twilight she told her mother all, dwelling most upon the +touching sadness of his face when he said, "Does she know how sick and +sorry I am?" + +The pillow which Agnes pressed that night was wet with tears, while in +her heart was planted a germ of gratitude and respect for the young girl +doing her work for her. All that she could do for Maddy without going +directly to her, she did, devising many articles of comfort, sending her +fruit and flowers, the last new book, or whatever else she thought +might please her, and always finding a willing messenger in Guy. He was +miserable, and managed when at home to make others so around him. The +sight of Maddy bearing her burden so uncomplainingly almost maddened +him. Had she fretted or complained could bear it better, he said, but he +did not see the necessity for her to lose all her spirit or interest in +everything and everybody. Once when he hinted as much to Maddy, he had +been awed into silence by the subdued expression of her face as she +told him in part what it was which helped her to bear and made the +rough places so smooth. He had seen something like this in Lucy, when +paroxysms of pain were racking her delicate frame, but he could +not understand it; he only knew it was something he could not +touch--something against which his arguments beat helplessly, and so, +with an added respect for Maddy Clyde, he smothered his impatience, and +determining to help her all he could, rode down to Honedale every day, +instead of twice a week, as he had done before. + +Attentions so marked could not fail to be commented upon; and while +poor, unsuspecting Maddy was deriving so much comfort from his daily +visits, deeming that day very long which did not bring him to her, the +Honedale gossips, of which there were many, were busy with her affairs, +talking them over at their numerous tea-drinkings, discussing them +in the streets, and finally at a quilting, where they met in solemn +conclave, deciding, that, "for a girl like Maddy Clyde it did not look +well to have so much to do with that young Remington, who, everybody +knew, was engaged to a somebody in England." + +"Yes, and would have been married long ago, if it wasn't for this +foolin' with Maddy," chimed in Mrs. Joel Spike, throwing the chalk +across the quilt to her sister, Tripheny Marvel, who wondered if Maddy +thought he'd ever have her. + +"Of course he wouldn't. He knew what he was about. He was not green +enough to marry Grandpa Markham's daughter; and if she didn't look out, +she'd get herself into a pretty scrape. It didn't look well, anyhow, for +her to be putting on airs, as she had done ever since big folks took her +up, and she guessed she wouldn't be beholden to nobody for her larnin'." + +All this and much more was discussed, and by the time the patchwork +thing was done, there remained but little to be said either for or +against Guy Remington and Maddy Clyde which had not been said by either +friend or foe. + +Among the invited guests at that quilting was the wife of Farmer Green, +Maddy's warmest friend in Honedale, and the one who did her best to +defend her against the attacks of those whose remarks she well knew were +caused more by envy than any personal dislike to Maddy, who used to +be so much of a pet until her superior advantages separated her in a +measure from them. Good Mrs. Green was sorely tried. Without in the +least blaming Maddy, she, too, had been troubled at the frequency of +Guy's Visits to the cottage. It was not friendship alone which took him +there, she was sure; and knowing that he was engaged, she feared for +Maddy's happiness at first, and afterward, when people began to talk, +she feared for her good name. Something must be done, and though she +dreaded it greatly, she was the one to do it. Accordingly, next day +she started for the cottage, which Guy had just left, and this, in her +opinion, accounted for the bright color in Maddy's cheek and the +sparkle in her eye. Guy had been there, bringing and leaving a world of +sunshine, but, alas, his chances for coming ever again as he had done +were fearfully small, when, at the close of Mrs. Green's well-meant +visit, Maddy lay on her bed, her white, frightened face buried in the +pillows, and herself half wishing she had died before the last hour had +come, with the terrible awakening it had brought; awakening to the +fact that of all living beings, Guy Remington was the one she loved +the best--the one without whose presence it seemed to her she could not +live, but without which she now knew she must. + +With the best of intentions Mrs. Green had made a bungle of the whole +affair, but had succeeded in giving Maddy a general impression that +folks were talking awfully about Guy's coming there, and doing for her +so much like an accepted lover, when everybody knew he was engaged, and +wouldn't be likely to marry a poor girl if he wasn't; that unless she +wanted to be ruined teetotally, and lose all her friends, she must +contrive to stop his visits, and not see him so much. + +"Yes, I'll do anything, only please leave me now," Maddy gasped, her +face as white as ashes and her eyes fixed pleadingly upon Mrs. Green, +who, having been young herself, guessed the truth, and, as she arose to +go, laid her motherly hand on Maddy's head, saving kindly: + +"Poor child, it's hard to bear now, but you'll get over it in time." + +"Get over it," Maddy moaned, as she shut and bolted the door after Mrs. +Green, and then threw herself upon the bed, "I never shall till I die." + +She almost felt that she was dying then, so desolate and so dreary the +future looked to her. What was life worth without Guy, and why had she +been thrown so much in his way; why permitted to love him as she knew +she did, if she must lose him now? Maddy could not cry; there was a +tightness about her eyes, and a keen, cutting pain about her heart as +she tried to pray for strength to do what was right--strength to cast +Guy Remington from her heart where it was a sin for him to be; and then +she asked to be forgiven for the wrong she had unwittingly done to Lucy +Atherstone, who trusted implicitly, and who, in her last letter, had +said: + +"If I had not so much faith in Guy I should be jealous of one who has +so many opportunities for stealing his heart from me. But I trust you, +Maddy Clyde. You would not do a thing to harm me, I am sure, and to lose +Guy now, after these years of cruel waiting, would kill me." + +Sweet Lucy, there was in her heart a faint stirring of fear lest Maddy +Clyde might be a shadow in her pathway, else she had never written +that to her. But Lucy's cause was safe in Maddy's hands. Always too +high-souled to do a treacherous act, she was now sustained by another +and holier principle, which of itself would have kept her from the +wrong. But for a few moments Maddy abandoned herself to the bliss of +fancying what it would be to be loved by Guy Remington, even as she +loved him. And as she thought, there crept into her heart the certainty +that in some degree he did love her; that his friendship was more than a +mere liking for the girl to whom he had been so kind. In Lucy's absence +she was essential to his happiness, and that was why he sought her +society so much. Remembering everything that had passed, but more +particularly the incidents of that memorable night ride to Honedale +with all that had followed since, she could not doubt it, and softly to +herself she whispered, "He loves me, he loves me," while little throbs +of joy beat all over her heart; but only for an instant, and then the +note of joy was changed to sorrow as she thought how she must henceforth +seek to kill that love, both for her own sake and Lucy's. Guy must not +come there any more. She could not bear it now, even if the neighbors +had never meddled with her. She could not see him as she had done, and +not betray her real feelings toward him. He had been there that day; he +would come again tomorrow. She could see him now just as he would look +coming up the walk, easy and self-possessed, confident of his reception, +his handsome face beaming all over with kind thoughtfulness for her, and +his voice full of tender concern as he asked how she was, and bade Flora +see that she did not overtax herself, and all this must cease. She +had seen it, heard it for the last time. No wonder that Maddy's heart +fainted within her, as she thought how desolate, how dreary would be the +days when Guy no longer came. But the victory was gained at last, and +strength imparted for the task she had to do. + +Going to the table she opened her portfolio, the gift of Guy, and +with her gold pen, also his gift, wrote to him what the neighbors were +saying, and that he must come there no more; at least, only once in a +great while, because if he did, she could not see him. Then, when this +was written, she went down to Uncle Joseph, beginning to call for her, +and sat by him as usual, singing to him the songs he loved so well, and +which this night pleased him especially, because the voice which sang +them was so plaintive, so full of woe. Would he never go to sleep, or +the hand which held hers so firmly relax its hold? Never, it seemed +to Maddy, who sat and sang, while the night-bird on a distant tree, +awakened by the low song, uttered a responsive note, and the hours crept +on to midnight. Human nature could endure no more, and when the crazy +man said to her, "Now sing of Him who died on Calvary," Maddy's answer +was a gaping cry as she fell fainting on the pillow. + +"It was only a nervous headache," she said to the frightened Flora, who +came at Uncle Joseph's call, and helped her young mistress up to bed. +"She should be better in the morning, and she would rather be alone." + +So Flora left her there, but went often to her door, until assured by +the low breathing sound that Maddy was sleeping at last. It was a heavy +sleep, and when Maddy awakened from it the pain in her temples was there +still; she could not rise, and half glad that she could not, inasmuch as +her illness would be a reason why she could not see Guy if he came. She +did not know he was here already, until she heard his voice speaking to +her grandfather. It was later than she imagined, and he had ridden down +early because he could not stay away. + +"I can't see him, Flora," Maddy said, when the latter came up with the +message that Mr. Remington was there with his buggy, and asked if a +little ride would not do her good. "I can't see him, but give him this," +and she placed in Flora's hand the note, baptized with so many tears and +prayers, and the contents of which made Guy furious; not at her, but at +the neighbors, the inquisitive, envious, ignorant, meddlesome neighbors, +who had dared to talk of him, or to breathe a suspicious word against +Maddy Clyde. He would see; he would make them sorry for it; they should +take back every word; and they should beg Maddy's forgiveness for the +pain they had caused her. + +All this, and much more, Guy thought, as with Maddy's note in his hand +he walked up and down the sitting-room, raging like a young lion, and +threatening vengeance upon everybody. This was not the first intimation +Guy had received of the people's gossip, for only that morning Mrs. Noah +had hinted that his course was not at all calculated to do Maddy any +good, while Agnes had repeated to him some things which she had heard +touching the frequency of his visits to Honedale; but these were nothing +to the calmly worded message which banished him effectually from Maddy's +presence. He knew Maddy, and he knew, she meant what she wrote, but he +could not have it so. He must see her; he would see her; and so for +the next half hour Flora was the bearer of written messages to and from +Maddy's room; messages of earnest entreaty on the one hand, and of firm +denial on the other. At last Maddy wrote: + +"If you care for me in the least, or for my respect, leave me, and +do not come again until I send for you. I am not insensible to your +kindness. I feel it all; but the world is nearer right than you suppose. +It does not look well for you to come here so much, and I prefer that +you should not. Justice to Lucy requires that you stay away." + +That ended it! That roused up Guy's pride, and writing back: + +"You shall be obeyed. Good-by." He sprang into his buggy, and Maddy, +listening, with head and heart throbbing alike, heard him as he drove +furiously away. + +Those were long, dreary days which followed, and but for her +grandfather's increasing feebleness Maddy would almost have died. +Anxiety for him, however, kept her from dwelling too much upon herself, +but the excitement sad the care wore upon her sadly, robbing her eye of +its luster and her cheek of its remaining bloom, making even Mrs. Noah +cry when she came one day with Jessie to see how they were getting on. +She had heard from Guy of his banishment, and now that he stayed away, +she was ready to step in; so she came, laden with sympathy and other +more substantial comforts brought from the Aikenside larder. + +Maddy was glad to see her, and for a time cried softly on her bosom, +while Mrs. Noah's tears kept company with hers. Not a word was said of +Guy, except when Jessie told her he was gone to Boston, and it was so +stupid at home without him. + +With more than her ordinary discretion, Flora kept to herself what had +passed when Guy was last there, so Mrs. Noah knew nothing except what he +had told her, and what she read in Maddy's white, suffering face. This +last was enough to excite all her pity, and she treated the young girl +with the most motherly kindness saying all night, and herself taking +care of grandpa, who was now too ill to sit up. There seemed to be no +disease preying upon him, nothing save old age, and the loss of one who +for more than forty years had shared all his joy and sorrow. He could +not live without her, and one night, three weeks after Guy's dismissal, +he said to Maddy, as she was about to leave him: + +"Sit with me, darling, for a little while, if you are not too tired. +Your grandmother seems near me to-night, and so does Alice, your mother. +Maybe I'll be with them before another day. I hope I may if God is +willing, and there's much I would say to you." + +He was very pale, and the great sweat drops stood on his forehead and +under his white hair, but Maddy wiped them away and listened with a +breaking heart while the aged disciple almost home told her of the +peace, the joy, that shone around his pathway to the tomb, and of the +everlasting arm bearing him so gently over Jordan. Then he talked of +herself, blessing her for all she had been to him, telling her how happy +she had made his life since she came home to stay, and how for a time he +had ached so with fear lest she should choose to go back and leave him +to a stranger. "But my darling stayed with her old grandpa. She'll never +be sorry for it, never. I've tried you sometimes, I know, for old folks +ain't like young; but I'm sorry, Maddy, and you'll forget it when I'm +gone, darling Maddy, precious child;" and the trembling hand rested +caressingly on her bowed head as grandpa went on to speak of his +affairs, his little property which was hers after the mortgage to Mr. +Guy was paid. "I've kept up the interest," he said, "but I could never +get him to take any of the principal. I don't know why he is so good to +me. Tell him, Maddy, how I thanked and blessed him just before I died; +tell him how I used to pray for him every day that he might choose the +better part. And he will--I'm sure he will, some day. He hasn't been +here of late, and though my old eyes are dim, I can see that your step +has got slow, and your face whiter by many shades, since he stayed away. +Maddy, child, the dead tell no secrets, and I shall soon be dead. Tell +me, then, what it is between you two. Does my girl love Mr. Guy?" + +"Oh, grandpa! grandpa!" Maddy moaned, laying her head beside his own on +the pillow. + +It would be a relief to talk with some one of that terrible pain, which +grew worse every day; of that intense longing just for one sight of the +beloved one; of Guy, still absent from Aikenside, wandering nobody knew +where; and so Maddy told the whole story, while the dying man listened +to her, and smoothing her silken hair, tried to comfort her. + +"The worst is not over yet," he said. "Guy will offer to make you his +wife, sacrificing Lucy for you, and if he does, what will my darling +do?" + +Maddy's heart leaped up into her throat, and for a moment prevented her +from answering, for the thought of Guy's really offering to make her his +wife, to shield her from evil, to enfold her in his tender love, made +her giddy with joy. But it could not be, and she answered through her +tears: + +"I shall tell him no." + +"God bless my Maddy! She will tell him no for Lucy's sake, and God will +bring it right at last," the old man whispered, his voice growing very +faint and tremulous. "She will tell him no," he kept repeating, until, +rousing up to greater consciousness, he spoke of Uncle Joseph, and asked +what Maddy would do with him; would she send him back to the asylum, +or care for him there? "He will be happier here," he said, "but it is +asking too much of a young girl like you. He may live for years." + +"I do not know, grandpa. I hope I may do right. I think I shall keep +Uncle Joseph with me," Maddy replied, a shudder creeping over her as +she thought of living out all her youth and possibly middle age with a +lunatic. + +But her grandfather's whispered blessings brought comfort with them, and +a calm quiet fell upon her as she sat there listening to the words of +prayer, and catching now and then her own name and that of Guy's. + +"I am drowsy, Maddy. Watch while I sleep. Perhaps I'll never wake +again," grandpa said, and clasping Maddy's hands he fell away to sleep, +while Maddy kept her watch beside him, herself falling into a troubled +sleep, from which she was aroused by a clammy hand pressing on her +forehead, and Uncle Joseph's voice, which said: "Wake, my child. There's +been a guest here while you slumbered," and he pointed to the rigid +features of the newly dead. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. -- THE BURDEN GROWS HEAVIER. + + +Of the days which followed, Maddy had no distinct consciousness. She +only knew that other hands than hers cared for the dead, that in the +little parlor a stiff, white figure lay, that neighboring women stole +in, treading on tiptoe, and speaking in hushed voices as they consulted, +not her, but Mrs. Noah, who had come at once, and cared for her and hers +so kindly. That she lay all day in her own room, where the summer breeze +blew softly through the window, bringing the perfume of summer flowers, +the sound of a tolling bell, of grinding wheels, the notes of a low, sad +hymn, sung in faltering tones, and of many feet moving from the door. +Then friendly faces looked in upon her, asking how she felt, and +whispering ominously to each other as she answered: + +"Very well; is grandpa getting better?" + +Then Mrs. Noah sat with her for a time, fanning her with a palm-leaf +fan and brushing the flies away. Then Flora came up with a man whom +they called "Doctor," and who gave his sundry little pills and powders +dissolved in water, after which they all went out and left her there +with Jessie who had been crying, and whose soft little hands felt so +cool on her hot head, and whose kisses on her lips made the tears +start, and brought a thought of Guy, making her ask, "if he was at the +funeral." She did not know whose funeral, or why she used that word, +only it seemed to her that Jessie just came back from somebody's grave, +and she asked if Guy was there. "No," Jessie said; "mother wanted to +write and tell him, but we don't know where he is." + +And this was all Maddy could recall of the days succeeding the night +of her last watch at her grandfather's side, until one balmy August +afternoon, when on the Honedale hills there lay that smoky haze so like +the autumn time hurrying on apace, and when through her open window +stole the fragrance of the later summer flowers. Then, as if waking from +an ordinary sleep, she woke suddenly to consciousness, and staring about +the room, wondered if it were as late as the western sun would indicate, +and how she came to sleep so long. For a while she lay thinking, and as +she thought, a sad scene came back to her, a night when her hot hands +had been enfolded in those of the dead, and that dead her grandfather. +Was it true, or was she laboring under some hallucination of the brain? +If true, was that white, placid face still to be seen in the room +below, or had they burial him from her sight? She would know, and with a +strange kind of nervous strength she arose, and throwing on the wrapper +and slippers which lay near, descended the stairs, wondering to find +herself so weak, and half shuddering at the deep stillness of the house; +stillness broken only by the ticking of the clock and the purring of the +house cat, which at sight of Maddy arose from its position near the door +and came forward, rubbing its sides against her dress, and trying in +various ways to evince its joy at seeing one whose caresses it had +missed so long. The little bedroom off the kitchen where grandpa slept +and died was vacant; the old fashioned coat was put away, as was every +vestige of the old man save the broad-rimmed hat which hung upon the +wall just where his hands had hung it, and which looked so much like +its owner that with a gush of tears Maddy sank upon the bed, moaning to +herself, "Yes, grandpa is dead. I remember now. But Uncle Joseph, where +is he? Can he too have died without my knowledge? and she looked round +in vain for the lunatic, not a trace of whom was to be found. His room +was in perfect order, as was everything about the house, showing that +Flora was still the domestic goddess, while Maddy detected also various +things which she recognized as having come from Aikenside. Who sent +them? Did Guy, and had he been there too while she was sick? The thought +brought a throb of joy to Maddy's heart, but it soon passed away as she +began again to wonder if Uncle Joseph too had died, and where Flora +was. It was not far to the Honedale burying ground. Maddy could see +the headstones from where she sat gleaming through the August sunlight; +could discern her mother's, and knew that two fresh mounds at least +were made beside it. But were there three? Was Uncle Joseph there? By +stealing across the meadow in the rear of the house the distance to the +graveyard was shortened more than half, and could not be more than the +eighth part of a mile, She could walk so far, she knew. The fresh air +would do her good, and hunting up her long unused flat, the impatient +girl started, stopping once or twice to rest as a dizzy faintness came +over her, and then continuing on until the spot she sought was reached, +Three graves, one old and sunken, one made when the last winter's snow +was on the hills, the other fresh and new. That was all, Uncle Joseph +was not there, and vague terror entered Maddy's heart lest he had been +taken back to the asylum. + +"I will get him out," she said; "I will take care of him. I should die +with nothing to do; and I promised grandpa----" + +She could get no farther, for the rush of memories which came over her, +and seating herself upon the ground close to the new grave, she laid her +face upon it, and sobbed piteously: + +"Oh, grandpa. I'm so lonely without you all; I almost wish I was lying +here in the quiet yard." + +Then a storm of tears ensued, after which Maddy grew calm, and with her +head still bent low, did not hear the rapid step approaching, the mans +step coming down the grassy road, coming past the marble tombstones, +on to where that wasted figure was crouching upon the ground. There it +stopped, and in a half whisper called, "Maddy! Maddy!" Then indeed she +started, and lifting up her head saw before her Guy Remington. For a +moment she regarded him intently while he said to her, oh so kindly, so +pityingly. + +"Poor child, you have suffered so much, and I never knew of it till a +few days ago." + +At the sound of that loved voice speaking thus to her, everything else +was forgotten, and with a cry of joy Maddy stretched her hands toward +him, moaning out: + +"Oh, Guy, Guy, where have you been, when I wanted you so much?" + +Maddy did not know what she was saying, or half comprehend the effect it +had on Guy, who forgot everything save that she wanted him, had missed +him, had turned to him in her trouble, and it was not in his nature to +resist her appeal. With a spring he was at her side, and lifting her +in his arms seated himself upon her mother's grave; then straining +her tightly to his bosom, he kissed her again and again. Hot, burning, +passionate kisses they were, which took from Maddy all power of +resistance, even had she wished it, which she did not. Too weak to +reason, or see the harm, if harm there were, in being loved by Guy, she +abandoned herself for a brief interval to the bliss of knowing that she +was beloved, and of hearing him tell her so. + +"Darling Maddy," he said, "I went away because you sent me, but now I +have come back, and nothing shall part us again. You are mine; I claim +you here at your mother's grave. Precious Maddy, I did not know of all +this till three days ago, when Agnes' letter found me almost at the +Rocky Mountains. I traveled day and night, reaching Aikenside this +morning, and coming straight to Honedale. I wish I had come before, now +that I know you wanted me. Say that again, Maddy. Tell me again that you +missed and wanted me." + +He was smoothing her hair now, as her head still lay pillowed upon +his breast, so he could not see the spasm of pain which contorted her +features as he thus appealed to her. Half bewildered, Maddy could not at +first make out whether it were a blissful dream or a reality, her lying +there in Guy's arms with his kisses on her forehead, lips and cheek, his +words of devotion in her ear, and the soft summer sky smiling down upon +her. Alas, it was a dream from which she was awakened by the thought of +one across the sea, whose place she had usurped, and this it was which +brought the grieved expression to her face as she answered mournfully: + +"I did want you, Guy, when I forgot; but now--oh, Guy--Lucy Atherstone!" + +With a gesture of impatience Guy was about to answer, when something +in the heavy fall of the little hand from his shoulder alarmed him, and +lifting up the drooping head he saw that Maddy had fainted. Then +back across the meadow Guy bore her to the cottage, where Flora, just +returned from a neighbor's, whither she had gone upon an errand, was +looking for her in much affright, and wondering who had come from +Aikenside with that wet, tired horse, showing so plainly how hard it had +been driven. + +Up again into her little chamber Maddy was carried and laid upon the +bed, which she never left until the golden harvest sheaves were gathered +in, and the hot September sun was ripening the fruits of autumn. But +now she had a new nurse, a constant attendant, who during the day seldom +left her except to talk with and amuse Uncle Joseph, mourning below +because no one sang to him or noticed him as Maddy used to do. He had +not been sent to the asylum, as Maddy feared, but by way of relieving +Flora had been taken to Farmer Green's, where he was so homesick and +discontented that at Guy's instigation he was suffered to return to +the cottage, crying like a little child when the old familiar spot was +reached, kissing his armchair, the cook-stove, the tongs, Mrs. Noah and +Flora, and timidly offering to kiss the Lord Governor himself, as he +persisted in calling Guy, who declined the honor, but listened quietly +to the crazy man's promise "not to spit the smallest kind of a spit on +the floor, or anywhere, except in its proper place." + +Guy had passed through several states of mind during the interval in +which we have seen so little of him. Furious at one time, and reckless +as to consequences, he had determined to break with Lucy and marry +Maddy, in spite of everybody; then, as a sense of honor came over him, +he resolved to forget Maddy, if possible, and marry Lucy at once. It was +in this last mood, and while roaming over the Western country, whither +after his banishment he had gone, that he wrote to Lucy a strange kind +of letter, saying he had waited for her long enough, and sick or well +he should claim her the coming autumn. To this letter Lucy had responded +quickly, sweetly reproving Guy for his impatience, softly hinting that +latterly he had been quite as culpable as herself in the matter +of deferring their union and appointing the bridal day for the--of +December. After this was settled Guy felt better, though the old sore +spot in his heart, where Maddy Clyde had been, was very sore still, +and sometimes it required all his powers of self-control to keep from +writing to Lucy and asking to be released from an engagement so irksome +as his had become. Neglecting to answer Agnes' letters when he first +left home, she did not know where he was until a short time before, when +she wrote apprising him of grandpa's death and Maddy's severe illness. +This brought him, while Maddy's involuntary outburst when she met him +in the graveyard, changed the whole current of his intentions. Let what +would come, Maddy Clyde should be his wife and as such he watched over +her, nursing her back to life, and by his manner effectually silencing +all remark, so that the neighbors whispered among themselves what +Maddy's prospects were, and, as was quite natural, were a very little +more attentive to the future lady of Aikenside. Poor Maddy! it was +a terrible trial which awaited her, but it must be met, and so with +prayers and tears she fortified herself to meet it, while Guy, the +devoted lover, hung over her, never guessing of all that was passing in +her mind, or how, when he was out of sight, the lips he had longed so +much to kiss, but never had since that day in the graveyard, quivered +with anguish as they asked for strength to do right. Oh, how Maddy did +love the man she must give up, and how often went up the wailing cry, +"Help me, Father, to do my duty, and give me, too, a greater inclination +to do it than I now possess." + +Maddy's heart did fail her sometimes, and she might have yielded to the +temptation but for Lucy's letter, full of eager anticipations of the +time when she should see Guy never to part again. + +"Sometimes," she wrote, "there comes over me a dark foreboding of +evil--a fear that I shall miss the cup now within my reach; but I pray +the bad feelings away. I am sure there is no living being who will come +between us to break my heart, and as I know God doeth all things well, I +trust Him wholly, and cease to doubt." + +It was well the letter came when it did, as it helped Maddy to meet the +hour she so much dreaded, and which came at last on an afternoon when +Mrs. Noah had gone to Aikenside, and Flora had gone on an errand to a +neighbor's, two miles away, thus leaving Guy free to tell the story, +the old, old story, yet always new to him who tells it and her who +listens--story which, as Guy told it, sitting by Maddy's side, with her +hands in his, thrilled her through and through, making the sweat drops +start out around her lips and underneath her hair--story which made Guy +himself pant nervously and tremble like a leaf, so earnestly he told it; +told how long he had loved her, of the picture withheld, the jealousy he +felt each time the doctor named her, the selfish joy he experienced when +he heard the doctor was refused; told of his growing dissatisfaction +with his engagement, his frequent resolves to break it, his final +decision, which that scene in the graveyard had reversed, and then asked +if she would not be his--not doubtfully, but confidently, eagerly, as if +sure of her answer. + +Alas for Guy! he could not believe he heard aright when, turning her +head away for a moment while she prayed for strength, Maddy's answer +came, "I cannot, Guy, I cannot. I acknowledge the love which has stolen +upon me, I know not how, but I cannot do this wrong to Lucy. Away from +me you will love her again. You must. Read this, Guy, then say if you +can desert her." + +She placed Lucy's letter in his hand, and Guy read it with a heart which +ached to its very core. It was cruel to deceive that gentle, trusting +girl writing so lovingly of him, but to lose Maddy was to his +undisciplined nature more dreadful still, and casting the letter aside +he pleaded again, this time with the energy of despair, for he read +his fate in Maddy's face, and when her lips a second time confirmed her +first reply, while she appealed to his sense of honor, of justice, of +right, and told him he could and must forget her, he knew there was no +hope, and man though he was, bowed his head upon Maddy's hands and wept +stormily, mighty, choking sobs, which shook his frame, and seemed to +break up the very fountains of his life. Then to Maddy there came a +terrible temptation. Was it right for two who loved as they did to live +their lives apart?--right in her to force on Guy the fulfillment of vows +he could not literally keep? As mental struggles are always the more +severe, so Maddy's took all her strength away, and for many minutes she +lay so white and still that Guy roused himself to care for her, thinking +of nothing then except to make her better. + +It was a long time ere that interview ended, but when it did there was +on Maddy's face a peaceful expression, which only the sense of having +done right at the cost of a fearful sacrifice could give, while Guy's +bore traces of a great and crushing sorrow, as he went out from Maddy's +presence and felt that to him she was lost forever. He had promised her +he would do right; had said he would marry Lucy, being to her what a +husband should be; had listened while she talked of another world, where +they neither marry nor are given in marriage, and where it would not be +sinful for them to love each other, and as she talked her face had shone +like the face of an angel. He had held one of her hands at parting, +bending low his head, while she laid the other on it as she blessed +him, letting her snowy fingers thread his soft brown hair and linger +caressingly among his curly locks. But that was over now. They had +parted forever. She was lying where he left her, cold, and white, and +faint with dizzy pain. He was riding swiftly toward Aikenside, his heart +beats keeping time to the swift tread of his horse's feet, and his mind +a confused medley of distracted thoughts, amid which two facts stood +out prominent and clear-he had lost Maddy Clyde, and had promised her to +marry Lucy Atherstone. + +For many days after that Guy kept his room, saying he was sick, and +refusing to see any one save Jessie and Mrs. Noah, the latter of whom +guessed in part what had happened, and imputing to him far more credit +than he deserved, petted and pitied and cared for him until he grew +weary of it, and said to her savagely: "You needn't think me so good, +for I am not. I wanted Maddy Clyde, and told her so, but she refused +me and made me promise to marry Lucy; so I'm going to do that very +thing--going to England in a few weeks, or as soon as Maddy is better, +and before the sun of this year sets I shall be a married man." + +After this all Mrs. Noah's sympathy was in favor of Maddy, the good lady +making more than one pilgrimage to Honedale, where she expended all her +arguments trying to make Maddy revoke her decision; but Maddy was firm +in what she deemed right, and as her health began slowly to improve, +and there was no longer an excuse for Guy to tarry, he gave out to the +neighborhood that he was at last to be married, and started for England +the latter part of October, as unhappy and unwilling a bridegroom, it +may be, as ever wait after a bride. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. -- THE INTERVAL BEFORE THE MARRIAGE. + + +Maddy never knew how she lived through those bright, autumnal days, when +the gorgeous beauty of decaying nature seemed so cruelly to mock her +anguish. As long as Guy was there, breathing the same air with herself, +she kept up, vaguely conscious of a shadowy hope that something would +happen without her instrumentality, something to ease the weight +pressing so hard upon her. But when she heard that he had really +gone, that a line had been received from him after he was on board the +steamer, all hope died out of her heart, and had it been right she would +have prayed that she might die and forget how utterly miserable she was. + +At last there came to her three letters, one from Lucy, one from the +doctor, and one from Guy himself. Lucy's she opened first, reading of +the sweet girl's great happiness in seeing her darling boy again, of +her sorrow to find him so thin, and pale, and changed, in all save his +extreme kindness to her, his careful study of her wants, and evident +anxiety to please her in every respect. On this Lucy dwelt, until +Maddy's heart seemed to leap up and almost turn over in its casing, so +fiercely it throbbed and ached with anguish. She was out in the beechen +woods when she read the letter, and laying her face in the grass she +sobbed as she had never sobbed before. + +The doctor's next was opened, and Maddy read with blinding tears that +which for a moment increased her pain and sent to her bleeding heart an +added pang of disappointment, or a sense of wrong done to her, she could +not tell which. Dr. Holbrook was to be married the same day with Lucy, +and to Lucy's sister, Margaret. + +"Maggie, I call her," he wrote, "because that name is so much like my +first love, Maddy, the little girl who though I was too old to be her +husband, and so made me very wretched for a time, until I met and knew +Margaret Atherstone. I have told her of you, Maddy; I would not marry +her without, and she seems willing to take me as I am. We shall come +home with Guy, who is the mere wreck of what he was when I last saw him. +He has told me, Maddy, all about it, and though I doubly respect you +now, I cannot say that I think you did quite right. Better that one +should suffer than two, and Lucy's is a nature which will forget far +sooner than yours or Guy's. I pity you all." + +This almost killed Maddy; she did not love the doctor, but the knowledge +that he was to marry another added to her misery, while what he said +of her decision was the climax of the whole. Had her sacrifice been for +nothing? Would it have been better if she had not sent Guy away? It was +anguish unspeakable to believe so, and the shadowy woods never echoed +to so bitter a cry of pain as that with which she laid her head on the +ground, and for a brief moment wished that she might die. God pitied +His child then, and for the next half hour she hardly knew what she +suffered. + +There was Guy's letter yet to read, and with a listless indifference +she opened it, starting as there dropped into her lap a small _carte +de viste_, a perfect likeness of Guy, who sent it, he said, because he +wished her to have so much of himself. It would make him happier to know +she could sometimes look at him just as he should gaze upon her dear +picture after it was a sin to love the original. And this was all the +direct reference he made to the past except where he spoke of Lucy, +telling how happy she was, and how if anything could reconcile him to +his fate, it was the knowing how pure and good and loving was the +wife he was getting. Then he wrote of the doctor and Margaret, whom he +described as a dashing, brilliant girl, the veriest tease and madcap in +the world, and the exact opposite of Maddy. + +"It is strange to me why he chose her after loving you," he wrote; "but +as they seem fond of each other, their chances of happiness are not +inconsiderable." + +This letter, so calm, so cheerful in its tone, had a quieting effect on +Maddy, who read it twice, and then placing it in her bosom, started for +the cottage, meeting on the way with Flora who was seeking for her in +great alarm. Uncle Joseph had had a fit, she said, and fallen upon the +floor, cutting his forehead badly against the sharp point of the stove. +Hurrying on Maddy found that what Flora had said was true, and sent +immediately for the physician, who came at once, but shook his head +doubtfully as he examined his patient. There were all the symptoms of a +fever, he said, bidding Maddy prepare for the worst. Nothing in the +form of trouble could particularly affect Maddy now, and perhaps it was +wisely ordered that Uncle Joseph's illness should take her thoughts from +herself. Prom the very first he refused to take his medicines from +any one save her or Jessie, who with her mother's permission stayed +altogether at the cottage, and who, as Guy's sister, was a great comfort +to Maddy. + +As the fever increased, and Uncle Joseph grew more and more delirious +his cries for Sarah were heartrending, making Jessie weep bitterly as +she said to Maddy: + +"If I knew where this Sarah was I'd go miles on foot to find her and +bring her to him." + +Something like this Jessie said to her mother when she went for a day to +Aikenside, asking her in conclusion if she thought Sarah would go. + +"Perhaps," and Agnes brushed abstractedly her long, flowing hair, +winding it around her jeweled fingers, and then letting the soft curls +fall across her snowy arms. + +"Where do you suppose she is?" was Jessie's next question, but if Agnes +knew, she did not answer, except by reminding her little daughter that +it was past her bedtime. + +The next morning Agnes' eyes were very red, as if she had been wakeful +the entire night, while her white face fully warranted the headache she +professed to have. + +"Jessie," she said, as they sat together at their breakfast, "I am going +to Honedale to-day, going to see Maddy, and shall leave you here, as I +do not care to have us both absent." + +Jessie demurred a little at first, but finally yielded, wondering what +had prompted this visit to the cottage. Maddy wondered so, too, as from +the window she saw Agnes instead of Jessie alighting from the carriage, +and was conscious of a thrill of gratification that Agnes would have +come to see her. But Agnes' business concerned the sick man, poor Uncle +Joseph, who was sleeping when she came, and so did not hear her voice as +in the tidy kitchen she talked to Maddy, appearing extremely agitated, +and flashing her eyes rapidly from one part of the room to another, +resting now upon the tinware hung upon the wall and now upon the gourd +swimming in the water pail standing in the old-fashioned sink, with the +wooden spout, directly over the pile of stones covering the drain. These +things were familiar to the proud woman; she had seen them before, and +the sight of them now brought to her a most remorseful regret for the +past, while her heart ached cruelly as she wished she had never crossed +that threshold, or crossing it had never brought ruin to one of its +inmates. Agnes was not the same woman whom we first knew. All hope of +the doctor had long since been given up, and as Jessie grew older the +mother nature was stronger within her, subduing her selfishness, and +making her far more gentle and considerate for others than she had been +before. To Maddy she was exceedingly kind, and never more so in manner +than now, when they sat talking together in the humble kitchen at the +cottage. + +"You look tired and sick," she said. "Your cares have been too much for +one not yet strong. Let me sit by him till he wakes, and you go up to +bed." + +Very gladly Maddy accepted the offered relief, and utterly worn out +with her constant vigils, she was soon sleeping soundly in her own room, +while Flora, in the little shed, or back room of the house, was busy +with her ironing. Thus there was none to follow Agnes as she went slowly +into the sick-room where Uncle Joseph lay, his thin face upturned to +the light, and his lips occasionally moving as he muttered in his sleep. +There was a strange contrast between that wasted imbecile and that +proud, queenly woman, but she could remember a time when the superiority +was all upon his side, a time when in her childish estimation he was the +embodiment of every manly beauty, and the knowledge that he loved her, +his sister's little hired girl, filled her with pride and vanity. A +great change had come to them both since those days, and Agnes, watching +him and smothering back the cry of pain which arose to her lips at sight +of him, felt that for the fearful change in him she was answerable. +Intellectual, talented, admired and sought by all he had been once; he +was a mere wreck now, and Agnes' breath came in short, quick gasps, as +glancing furtively around to see that no one was near, she laid her hand +upon his forehead, and parting his thin hair, said, pityingly: "Poor +Joseph." + +The touch awoke him, and starting up he stared wildly at her, while some +memory of the past seemed to be struggling through the misty clouds, +obscuring his mental vision. + +"Who are you, lady? Who, with eyes and hair like hers?" + +"I'm the `madam' from Aikenside," Agnes said, quite loudly, as Flora +passed the door. Then when she was gone she added, softly: "I'm Sarah. +Don't you know me? Sarah Agnes Morris." + +It seemed for a moment to burst upon him in its full reality, and to her +dying day Agnes would never forget the look upon his face, the smile +of perfect happiness breaking through the rain of tears, the love, +the tenderness mingled with distrust, which that look betokened as he +continued gazing at her, but said to her not a word. Again her hand +rested on his forehead, and taking it now in his he held it to the +light, laughing insanely at its soft whiteness; then touching the costly +diamonds which flashed upon him the rainbow hues, he said: "Where's that +little bit of a ring I bought for you?" + +She had anticipated this, and took from her pocket a plain gold ring, +kept until that day where no one could find it, and holding it up to +him, said: "Here it is. Do you remember it?" + +"Yes, yes," and his lips began to quiver with a grieved, injured +expression. "He could give you diamonds, and I couldn't. That's why you +left me, wasn't it, Sarah--why you wrote that letter which made my head +into two? It's ached so ever since, and I've missed you so much, Sarah! +They put me in a cell where crazy people were--oh! so many--and they +said that I was mad, when I was only wanting you. I'm not mad now, am I, +darling?" + +His arm was around her neck, and he drew her down until his lips touched +hers. And Agnes suffered it. She could not return the kiss, but she did +not turn away from his, and she let him caress her hair, and wind it +around his fingers, whispering: "This is like Sarah's, and you are +Sarah, are you not?" + +"Yes, I am Sarah," she would answer, while the smile so painful to see +would again break over his face as he told how much he had missed her, +and asked if she had not come to stay till he died. + +"There's something wrong," he said; "somebody dead, and seems as if +somebody else wanted to die--as if Maddy died ever since the Lord +Governor went away. Do you know Governor Guy?" + +"I am his stepmother," Agnes replied, whereupon Uncle Joseph laughed so +long and loud that Maddy awoke, and, alarmed by the noise, came down to +see what was the matter. + +Agnes did not hear her, and as she reached the doorway, she started at +the strange position of the parties--Uncle Joseph still smoothing the +curls which drooped over him, and Agnes saying to him: "You heard his +name was Remington, did you not--James Remington?" + +Like a sudden revelation it came upon Maddy, and she turned to leave, +when Agnes, lifting her head, called her to come in. She did so, and +standing upon the opposite side of the bed, she said, questioningly: +"You are Sarah Morris?" + +For a moment the eyelids quivered, then the neck arched proudly, as if +it were a thing of which she was not ashamed, and Agnes answered: "Yes, +I was Sarah Agnes Morris; once for three months your grandmother's +hired girl, and afterward adopted by a lady who gave me what education +I possess, together with that taste for high life which prompted me to +jilt your Uncle Joseph when a richer man than he offered himself to me." + +That was all she said--all that Maddy ever knew of her history, as it +was never referred to again, except that evening, when Agnes said to +her, pleadingly: "Neither Guy nor Jessie, nor any one, need know what I +have told you." + +"They shall not," was Maddy's reply; and from that moment the past, so +far as Agnes was concerned, was a sealed page to both. With this bond +of confidence between them, Agnes felt herself strangely drawn toward +Maddy, while, if it were possible, something of her olden love was +renewed for the helpless man who clung to her now instead of Maddy, +refusing to let her go; neither had Agnes any disposition to leave him. +She should stay to the last, so she said; and she did, taking Maddy's +place, and by her faithfulness and care winning golden laurels in the +opinion of the neighbors, who marveled at first to see so gay a lady at +Uncle Joseph's bedside, attributing it all to her friendship for Maddy, +just as they attributed his calling her Sarah to a crazy freak. She did +resemble Sarah Morris a very little, they said; and in Maddy's presence +they sometimes wondered where Sarah was, repeating strange things which +they had heard of her; but Maddy kept the secret from every one, so that +even Jessie never suspected why her mother stayed day after day at the +cottage; watching and waiting until the last day of Joseph's life. + +She was alone with him then, so that Maddy never knew what passed +between them. She had left them together for an hour, while she did some +errands; and when she returned, Agnes met her at the door, and with a +blanched cheek whispered: "He is dead; he died in my arms, blessing you +and me; do you hear, blessing me! Surely; my sin is now forgiven?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. -- BEFORE THE BRIDAL. + + +There was a fresh grave made in the churchyard, and another chair vacant +at the cottage, when Maddy was at last alone. Unfettered by care and +anxiety for sick ones, her aching heart was free to go out after the +loved ones over the sea, go to the elm-shaded mansion she had heard +described so often, and where now two brides were busy with their +preparations for the bridal hurrying on so fast. Since the letter read +in the smoky, October woods, Maddy had not heard from Guy directly, +though Lucy had written since, a few brief lines, telling how happy +she was, how strong she was growing, and how much like himself Guy was +becoming. Maddy had been less than a woman if the last intelligence had +failed to affect her unpleasantly. She did not wish Guy to regret his +decision; but to be forgotten so soon after so strong protestations of +affection, was a little mortifying, and Maddy's heart throbbed painfully +as she read the letter, half hoping it might prove the last she should +receive from Lucy Atherstone. Guy had left no orders for any changes to +be made at Aikenside; but Agnes, who was largely imbued with a love +of bustle and repair, had insisted that at least the suite of rooms +intended for the bride should be thoroughly renovated with new paper +and paint, carpets and furniture. This plan Mrs. Noah opposed, for +she guessed how little Guy would care for the change; but Agnes was +resolved, and as she had great faith in Maddy's taste, she insisted that +she should go to Aikenside, and pass her judgment upon the improvements. +It would do her good, she said--little dreaming how much it cost Maddy +to comply with her wishes, or how fearfully the poor, crushed heart +ached, as Maddy went through the handsome rooms fitted up for Guy's +young bride; but Mrs. Noah guessed it all, pitying so much the +white-faced girl, whose deep mourning robes told the loss of dear ones +by death; but gave no token of that great loss, tenfold worse than +death. + +"It was wicked in her to fetch you here," she said to Maddy, one day +when in Lucy's room she found her sitting upon the floor, with her head +bowed down upon the window sill. "But law, she's a triflin' thing, and +didn't know 'twould kill you, poor child, poor Maddy!" and Mrs. Noah +laid her hand kindly on Maddy's hair. "Maybe you'd better go home," she +continued, as Maddy made no reply; "it must be hard, to be here in the +rooms, and among the things which by good rights should be yours." + +"No, Mrs. Noah," and Maddy's voice was strangely unnatural, as she +lifted up her head, revealing a face so haggard and white that Mrs. Noah +was frightened, and asked in much alarm if anything new had happened. + +"No, nothing; I was going to say that I'd rather stay a little longer +where there are signs and sounds of life. I should die to be alone +at Honedale to-morrow. I may die here, I don't know. Do you know that +to-morrow will be the bridal?" + +Yes, Mrs. Noah knew it; but she hoped it might have escaped Maddy's +mind. + +"Poor child," she said again, "poor child, I mistrust you did wrong to +tell him no!" + +"Oh, Mrs. Noah, don't tell me that; don't make it harder for me to bear. +The tempter has been telling me so, all day, and my heart is so hard and +wicked, I cannot pray as I would. Oh, you don't know how wretched I am!" +and Maddy hid her face in the broad, motherly lap, sobbing so wildly +that Mrs. Noah was greatly perplexed, how to act, or what to say. + +Years ago, she would have spurned the thought that the grandchild of +the old man who had bowed to his own picture should be mistress of +Aikenside; but she had changed since then, and could she have had her +way, she would have stopped the marriage, and, bringing her boy home, +have given him to the young girl weeping so convulsively in her lap. +But Mrs. Noah could not have her way. The bridal guests were, even then, +assembling in that home beyond the sea. She could not call Guy back, and +so she pitied and caressed the wretched Maddy, saying to her at last: + +"I'll tell you what is impressed on my mind; this Lucy's got the +consumption, without any kind of doubt, and if you've no objections to a +widower, you may----" + +She did not finish the sentence, for Maddy started in horror. To her +there was something murderous in the very idea, and she thrust it +quickly aside. Guy Remington was not for her, she said, and her wish +was to forget him. If she could get through the dreaded to-morrow, +she should do better. There had been a load upon her the whole day, a +nightmare she could not shake off, and she had come to Lucy's room, in +the hope of leaving her burden there, of praying her pain away. Would +Mrs. Noah leave her a while, and see that no one came? + +The good woman could not refuse, and going out, she left Maddy by the +window, watching the sun as it went down, and then watching; the wintry +twilight deepen over the landscape, until all things were blended +together in one great darkness, and Jessie, seeking for her found her at +last, fainting upon the floor. + +Maddy was glad of the racking headache, which kept her in her bed the +whole of the next day, glad of any excuse to stay away from the family, +talking--all but Mrs. Noah--of Guy, and what was transpiring in England. +They had failed to remember the difference in the longitude of the two +places; but Maddy forgot nothing, and when the clock struck four, she +called Mrs. Noah to her and whispered, faintly: + +"They were to be married at eight in the evening. Allowing for possible +delays, it's over before this and Guy is lost forever!" + +Mrs. Noah had no consolation to offer, and only pressed the hot, +feverish hands, while Maddy turned her face to the wall, and did not +speak again, except to whisper, incoherently, as she half slumbered, +half woke: + +"Did Guy think of me when he promised to love her, and does he, can he, +see how miserable I am?" Maddy was indeed passing through deep waters, +and that night, the fourth of December, the longest, dreariest she ever +knew, could never be forgotten. Once past, the worst was over, and as +the rarest metal is purified by fire, so Maddy came from the dreadful +ordeal strengthened for what was before her. Both Agnes and Mrs. Noah +noticed the strangely beautiful expression of her face, when she came +down to the breakfast-room, while Jessie, as she kissed her pale cheek, +whispered: + +"You look as if you had been with the angels." Guy was not expected with +his bride for two weeks, or more, and as the days dragged on, Maddy felt +that the waiting for him was more intolerable than the seeing him with +Lucy would be. Restless and impatient, she could not remain quietly at +the cottage--while at Aikenside, she longed to return again to her own +home, and in this way the time wore on, until the anniversary of that +day when she had come from New York, and found Guy waiting for her the +station. To stay that day in the house so rife with memories of the dead +was impossible, and Flora was surprised and delighted to hear that both +were going up to Aikenside in the vehicle hired of Farmer Green, +whose officiated as driver. It was nearly noon when they reached their +destination, meeting at the gate with Flora's brother Tom, who said to +them: + +"We've heard from Mr. Guy; the ship is in; they'll be here sure +to-night, and Mrs. Noah is turnin' things upside down with the dinner." + +Leaning back in the buggy, Maddy felt for a moment as if she were dying. +Never until then had she realized how, all the while, she had been +clinging to an indefinable hope, a presentiment that something might yet +occur to spare her from a long lifetime of pain, such as lay before her +if Guy were really lost; but the bubble had burst, leaving her nothing +to hope, nothing to cling to, nothing but black despair; and half +bewildered, she received the noisy greeting of Jessie, who met her at +the door, and dragged her into the drawing-room, decorated with flowers +from the hothouse, told her to guess who was coming. + +"I know; Tom told me; Guy is coming with Lucy," Maddy answered, and +relieving herself from Jessie, she turned to Agnes, asking where Mrs. +Noah was, and if she might go to her for a moment. + +"Oh, Maddy, child, I'm sorry you've come to-day," Mrs. Noah said, as +she chafed Maddy's cold hands, and leading her to the fire, made her sit +down, while she untied her hood, and removed her cloak and furs. + +"I did not know it, or I should have stayed away," Maddy replied; "I +shall not stay, as it is. I cannot see them to-day. Charlie will drive +me back before the train is due; but what did he say? And how is Lucy?" +"He did not mention her. There's the dispatch" and Mrs. Noah handed +to Maddy the telegram, received that morning, and which was simply as +follows: + +"The steamer is here. Shall be at the station at five o'clock P. M. GUY +REMINGTON." + +Twice Maddy read it over, experiencing much the same feeling she would +have experienced had it been her death warrant she was reading. + +"At five o'clock. I must go before that," she said, sighing as she +remembered how, one year ago that day, she was traveling over the very +route where Guy was now traveling with his bride. Did he think of it? +think of his long waiting at the depot, or of that memorable ride, the +events of which grew more and more distinct in her memory, making her +cheeks burn even now, as she recalled his many acts of tenderness and +care. + +Laying the telegram on the table, she went with Mrs. Noah through the +rooms, warmed and made ready for the bride, lingering longest in Lucy's, +which the bridal decorations, and the bright fire blazing in the grate +made singularly inviting. As yet, there were no flowers there, and Maddy +claimed the privilege of arranging them for this room herself. Agnes had +almost stripped the conservatory; but Maddy found enough to form a most +tasteful bouquet, which she placed upon a marble dressing table; then +within a slip of paper which she folded across the top, she wrote: +"Welcome to the bride." + +"They both will recognize my handwriting; they'll know I've been here," +she thought, as with one long, last, sad look at the room, she walked +away. + +They were laying the table for dinner now, and with a kind of dizzy, +uncertain feeling, Maddy watched the servants hurrying to and fro, +bringing out the choicest china, and the glittering silver, in honor of +the bride. Comparatively, it was not long since a little, frightened, +homesick girl, she first sat down with Guy at that table, from which +the proud Agnes would have banished her; but it seemed to her an age, so +much of happiness and pain had come to her since then. There was a place +for her there now, a place near Guy; but she should not fill it. She +could not stay; and she astonished Agnes and Jessie, just as they were +going to make their dinner toilet, by announcing her intention of going +home. She was not dressed to meet Mrs. Remington, she said, shuddering +as for the first time she pronounced a name which the servants had +frequently used, and which jarred on her ear, every time she heard it. +She was not dressed appropriately to meet an English lady. Flora of +course would stay, she said, as it was natural she should, to greet her +new mistress; but she must go, and finding Charlie Green she bade him +bring around the buggy. + +Agnes was not particularly surprised, for a vague suspicion of something +like the truth had gradually been creeping into her brain, as she noted +Maddy's pallid face, and the changes which passed over it whenever Guy +was mentioned. Agnes pitied Maddy, for in her own heart there was +a little burning spot, when she remembered who was to accompany Dr. +Holbrook. So she did not urge her to remain, and she tried to hush +Jessie's lamentations when she heard Maddy was going. + +One long, sad, wistful look at Guy's and Lucy's home, and Maddy followed +Charlie to the buggy waiting for her, bidding him drive rapidly, as +there was every indication of a coming storm. + +The gray, wintry afternoon was drawing to a close, and the December +night was shutting down upon the Honedale hills in sleety rain, when the +cottage was reached, and Maddy, passing up the narrow, slippery walk, +entered the cold, dreary room, where there was neither fire nor light, +nor friendly voice to greet her. No sound save the ticking of the clock; +no welcome save the purring of the house cat, who came crawling at her +feet as she knelt before the stove and tried to kindle the fire. Charlie +Green had offered to go in and do this for her, as indeed he had offered +to return and stay all night, but she had declined, preferring to be +alone, and with stiffened fingers she laid the kindlings Flora had +prepared, and then applying the match, watched the blue flame as it +gradually licked up the smoke and burst into a cheerful blaze. + +"I shall feel better when it's warm," she said, crouching over the fire, +and shivering with more than bodily cold. + +There was a kind of nameless terror stealing over her as she at thinking +of the year ago when the inmates of three graves across the meadow were +there beneath that very roof where she now sat alone. + +"I'll strike a light," she said, rising to her feet, and trying not to +glance at the shadowy corners filling her with fear. + +The lamp was found, and its friendly beams soon dispersed the darkness +from the corners and the fear from Maddy's heart, but it could not drive +from her mind thoughts of what might at that moment be transpiring at +Aikenside. If the bride and groom came at all that night, she knew +they must have been there for an hour or more, and in fancy she saw the +tired, but happy, Lucy, as up in her pleasant room she made her toilet +for dinner, with Guy standing by and looking on. Just as he had a right +to do. Did he smile approvingly upon his young wife? Did his eye, when +it rested on her, light up with the same expression she had seen so +often when it looked at her? Did he commend her taste and say his little +wife was beautiful, as he kissed her fair, white cheek, or was there a +cloud upon his handsome face, a shadow on his heart, heavy with thoughts +of her, and would he rather it were Maddy there in the bridal room? If +so, his burden was hard indeed, but not so hard as hers, and kneeling +on the floor, poor Maddy laid her head in the chair, and, 'mid piteous +moans, asked God, her Father, to help them both to bear--help her and +Guy--making the latter love as he ought the gentle girl who had left +home and friends to live with him in a far-distant land; asked, too, +that she might tear from her heart every sinful thought, loving Guy only +as she might love the husband of another. + +The prayer ended, Maddy still sat upon the floor, while over her pale +face the lamplight faintly flickered, showing the dark lines beneath +her eyes and the tear stains on her cheek. Without, the storm still was +raging, and the wintry rain, mingled with sleet and snow, beat piteously +against the curtained windows, while the wind howled mournfully as it +shook the door and sweeping past the cottage went screaming over the +hill. But Maddy heard nothing of the tumult. She had brought a pillow +from the bedroom, and placing it upon the chair, sat down again upon the +floor and rested her head upon it. She did not even know that her +pet cat had crept up beside her, purring contentedly and occasionally +licking her hair, much less did she hear above the storm the swift +tread of horses' feet as some one came dashing down the road, the rider +pausing an instant as he caught a glimpse of the cottage lamp and +then hurrying on to the public house beyond, where the hostler frowned +moodily at being called out to care for a stranger's horse, the stranger +meanwhile turning back a foot to where the cottage lamp shone a beacon +light through the inky darkness. The stranger reached the little gate +and, undoing the fastening, went hurrying up the walk, his step upon the +crackling snow catching Maddy's ear at last and making her wonder who +could be coming there on such a night as this. It was probably Charlie +Green, she said, and with a feeling of impatience at being intruded upon +she arose to her feet just as the door turned upon its hinges, letting +in a powerful draught of wind, which extinguished the lamp and left her +in total darkness. + +But it did not matter. Maddy had caught a sound, a peculiar cough, which +froze the blood in her veins and made her quake with terror quite as +much as if the footsteps hurrying toward her had been the footsteps +of the dead, instead of belonging, as she knew they did, to Guy +Remington--Guy, who, with garments saturated with rain, felt for her +in the darkness, found her where from faintness she had crouched again +beside the chair, drew her closely to him, in a passionate, almost +painful, hug, and said, oh! so tenderly, so lovingly: + +"Maddy, my darling, my own! We will never be parted again." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. -- LUCY. + + +Hours had gone by, and the clock hands pointed to twelve, ere Maddy +compelled herself to hear the story Guy had come to tell. She had thrust +him from her at first, speaking to him of Lucy, his wife, and Guy had +answered her back: "I have no wife--I never had one. Lucy is in heaven," +and that was all Maddy knew until the great shock had spent itself in +tears and sobs, which became almost convulsions as she tried to realize +the fact that Lucy Atherstone was dead; that the bridal robe about which +she had written, with girlish frankness, proved to be her shroud, and +that her head that night was not pillowed on Guy's arm, but was resting +under English turf and beneath an English sky. She could listen at last, +but her breath came in panting gasps; while Guy told her how, on the +very morning of the bridal, Lucy had greeted him with her usual bright +smile, appearing and looking better than he had before seen her look +since he reached her mother's home; how for an hour they sat together +alone in a little room sacred to her, because years before it was there +he confessed his love. + +Seated on a low ottoman, with her golden head lying on his lap, she had +this morning told him, in her artless way, how much she loved him, and +how hard it sometimes was to make her love for the creature second to +her love for the Creator; told him she was not faultless, and asked +that when he found how erring and weak she was, he would bear with her +frailties as she would bear with his; talked with him, too, of Maddy +Clyde, confessing in a soft, low tone, how once or twice a pang of +jealousy had wrung her heart when she read his praises of his pupil. But +she had conquered that; she had prayed it all away, and now, next to her +own sister, she loved Maddy Clyde. Other words, too, were spoken--words +of guileless, pure affection, too sacred even for Guy to breathe to +Maddy; and then Lucy had left him, her hart-bounding step echoing +through the hall and up the winding stairs, down which she never came +again alive, for when Guy next looked upon her she was lying white as a +water lily, her neck and dress and golden hair stained with the pale +red life current oozing from her livid lips. A blood vessel had been +suddenly ruptured, the physician said, and for her, the fair, young +bride, there was no hope. They told her she must die, for the mother +would have them tell her. Once, for a few moments, there rested on her +face a fearfully frightened look, such as a harmless bird might wear +when suddenly caught in a snare. But that soon passed away as from +beneath the closed eyelids the great tears came gushing, and the stained +lips whispered faintly: "God knows best what's right. Poor Guy!--break +it gently to him." + +At this point in the story Guy broke down entirely, sobbing as only +strong men can sob. + +"Maddy," he said, "I felt like a heartless wretch--a most consummate +hypocrite--as, standing by Lucy's side, I met the fond, pitying glance +of her blue eyes, and suffered her poor little hand to part my hair +as she tried to comfort me, even though every word she uttered was +shortening her life; tried to comfort me, the wretch who was there so +unwillingly, and who at this prospect of release hardly knew at first +whether he was more sorry than pleased. You may well start from he in +horror, Maddy. I was just the wretch I describe: but I overcame it, +Maddy, and Heaven is my witness that no thought of you intruded itself +upon me afterward is I stood by my dying Lucy--gentle, patient, loving +to the last. I saw how good, how sweet she was, and something of the old +love, the boy love, came back to me, as I held her in my arms, where she +wished to be. I would have saved her if I could; and when I called her +'my darling Lucy,' they were not idle words. I kissed her many times for +myself, and once, Maddy, for you. She told me to. She whispered: 'Kiss +me, Guy, for Maddy Clyde. Tell her I'd rather she should take my place +than anybody else--rather my Guy should call her wife--for I know she +will not be jealous if you sometimes talked of your dead Lucy, and I +know she will help lead my boy to that blessed home where sorrow never +comes.' That was the last she ever spoke, and when the sun went down +death had claimed my bride. She died in my arms, Maddy. I felt the last +fluttering of her pulse, the last beat of her heart. I laid her back +upon her pillows. I wiped the blood from her lips and from her golden +curls. I followed her to her early grave. I saw her buried from my +sight, and then, Maddy, I started home; thoughts of you and thoughts of +Lucy blended equally together until Aikenside was reached. I talked with +Mrs. Noah; I heard all of you there was to tell, and then I talked with +Agnes, who was not greatly surprised, and did not oppose my coming here +tonight. I could not remain there, knowing you were alone. In the bridal +chamber I found your bouquet, with its 'Welcome to the bride.' Maddy, +you must be that bride. Lucy sanctioned it, and the doctor, too, for I +told him all. His own wedding was, of course, deferred, and he did not +come home with me, but he said: 'Tell Maddy not to wait. Life is too +short to waste any happiness. She has my blessing.' And, Maddy, it must +be so. Aikenside needs a mistress; you are all alone. You are mine--mine +forever." + +The storm had died away, and the moonbeams stealing through the window +told that morning was breaking, but neither Guy nor Maddy heeded +the lapse of time. Theirs was a sad kind of happiness as they talked +together, and could Lucy have listened to them she would have felt +satisfied that she was not forgotten. One long, bright curl, cut from +her head by his own hand, was all there was left of her to Guy, save the +hallowed memories of her purity and goodness--memories which would yet +mold the proud, impulsive Guy into the earnest, consistent Christian +which Lucy in her life had desired that he should be, and which Maddy +rejoiced to see him. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. -- FINALE. + + +The close of a calm September afternoon, and the autumnal sunlight falls +softly upon Aikenside, where a gay party is now assembled. For four +years Maddy Clyde has been mistress there, and in looking back upon them +she wonders how so much happiness as she has known could be experienced +in so short a time. Never but once has the slightest ripple of sorrow +shadowed her heart, and that was when her noble husband, Guy, said to +her, in a voice she knew was earnest and determined that he could no +longer remain deaf to his country's call--that where the battle storm +was raging he was needed, and like a second Sardanapalus he must not +stay at home. Then for a brief season her bright face was overcast, +and her brown eyes dim with weeping. Giving him to the war seemed like +giving him up to death. But women can be as true heroes as men. Indeed, +it oftentimes costs more courage for a weak, confiding woman to bid her +loved ones leave her for the field of carnage than it costs them to +face the cannon's mouth. Maddy found it so, but Christian patriotism +triumphed over all, and stifling her own grief, she sent him away +with smiles, and prayers, and cheering words of encouragement, turning +herself for consolation to the source from which she never sued for +peace in vain. Save that she missed her husband terribly, she was not +lonely, for her beautiful dark-eyed boy, whom they called Guy, Jr., kept +her busy, while not very many weeks afterward, Guy, Sr., sitting in his +tent, read with moistened eyes of a little golden-haired daughter, whom +Maddy named Lucy Atherstone, and gazed upon a curl of hair she inclosed +to the soldier father, asking if it were not like some other hair now +moldering back to dust within an English churchyard. "Maggie" said it +was, Aunt Maggie, as Guy, Jr., called the wife of Dr. Holbrook, who had +come to Aikenside to stay, while her husband did his duty as surgeon in +the army. That little daughter is a year-old baby now, and in her short +white dress and coral bracelets she sits neglected on the nursery floor, +while mother and Jessie, Maggie and everybody hasten out into the yard +to welcome the returning soldier, Major Guy, whose arm is in a sling, +and whose face is very pale from the effects of wounds received at +Gettysburg, where his daring courage had well-nigh won for Maddy a +widow's heritage. For the present the arm is disabled, and so he has +been discharged, and comes back to the home where warm words of welcome +greet him, from the lowest servant up to his darling wife, who can only +look her joy as he folds her in his well arm, and kisses her beautiful +face. Only Margaret Holbrook seems a little sad, she had so wanted her +husband to come with Guy, but his humanity would not permit him to leave +the suffering beings who needed his care. Loving messages he sent to +her, and her tears were dried when she heard from Guy how greatly he was +beloved by the pale occupants of the beds of pain, and how much he was +doing to relieve their anguish. + +Jessie, grown to be a most beautiful girl of nearly sixteen, is still +a child in actions, and wild with delight at seeing her brother again, +throws her arms around his neck, telling, in almost the same breath, how +proud she is of him, how much she wished to go to him when she heard +he was wounded, how she wishes she was a boy, so she could enlist, how +nicely Flora is married and settled down at the cottage in Honedale, and +then asks if he knows aught of the rebel colonel to whom just before the +war broke out her mother was married, and whose home was in Richmond. + +Guy knows nothing of him, except that he is still doing what he deems +his duty in fighting for the Confederacy, but from exchanged prisoners, +who had come up from Richmond, he has heard of a beautiful lady, an +officer's wife, and as rumor said, a Northern woman, who visited them in +prison, speaking kind words of sympathy, and once binding up a drummer +boy's aching head with a handkerchief, which he still retained, and on +whose corner could be faintly traced the name of "Agnes Remington." + +Jessie's eyes are full of tears as she says: + +"Poor mamma, how glad I am I did not go to Virginia with her. It's +months since I heard from her direct. Of course it was she who was so +good to the drummer boy. She cannot be much of a rebel," and Jessie +glances triumphantly at Mrs. Noah, who, never having quite overcome her +dislike of Agnes, had sorely tried Jessie by declaring that her mother +"had found her level at last, and was just where she wanted to be." + +Good Mrs. Noah, the ancient man whose name she bore would as soon have +thought of leaving the Ark as she of turning a traitor to her country, +and when she heard of the riotous mob raised against the draft, she +talked seriously of going in person to New York "to give 'em a piece of +her mind," and for one whole day refused to speak to Flora's husband, +because he was a "dum dimocrat," and she presumed was opposed to +Lincoln. With the exception of Maddy, no one was more please to see Guy +than herself. He was her boy, the one she brought up, and with all a +mother's fervor she kissed his bronzed cheek, and told him how glad she +was to have him back. + +With his boy on his sound arm, Guy disengaged himself from the noisy +group and went with Maddy to where the little lady, the child he had +never seen, was just beginning to show signs of resentment at being left +so long alone. + +"Lulu, sissy, papa's come; this is papa," the little boy cried, assuming +the honor of the introduction. + +Lulu, as they called her, was not afraid of the tall soldier, and +stretching out her fat, white hands, went to him readily. Blue-eyed +and golden haired, she bore but little resemblance to either father or +mother, but there was a sweet, beautiful face, of which Maddy had often +dreamed, but never seen, and whether it were in the infantile features +of his little girl. Parting lovingly her yellow curls and kissing her +fair cheek, he said to Maddy, softly, just as he always spoke of that +dead one: + +"Maddy, darling, Margaret Holbrook is right--our baby daughter is very +much like our dear lost Lucy Atherstone." + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Aikenside, by Mary J. 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Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**EBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These EBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers***** + + +Title: Aikenside + +Author: Mary J. Holmes + +Release Date: November 2004 [EBook #6954] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on February 16, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + + + + + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AIKENSIDE, BY MARY J. HOLMES *** + + + +This eBook was produced byJuliet Sutherland, Charles Franks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + +AIKENSIDE + +MARY J. HOLMES + + + +Author of "Maggie Miller," "Dora Drane," "English Orphans," "The +Homestead on the Hillside," "Meadowbrook Farm," "Lena Rivers," +"Rosamond," "Cousin Maude," "Tempest and Sunshine," "Rector of St. +Marks," "Mildred," "The Leighton Homestead," "Miss McDonald" + + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE EXAMINING COMMITTEE. + + +The good people of Devonshire were rather given to quarreling-- +sometimes about the minister's wife, meek, gentle Mrs. Tiverton, whose +manner of housekeeping, and style of dress, did not exactly suit them; +sometimes about the minister himself, good, patient Mr. Tiverton, who +vainly imagined that if he preached three sermons a week, attended the +Wednesday evening prayer-meeting, the Thursday evening sewing society, +officiated at every funeral, visited all the sick, and gave to every +beggar who called at his door, besides superintending the Sunday +school, he was earning his salary of six hundred per year. + +Sometimes, and that not rarely, the quarrel crept into the choir, and +then, for one whole Sunday, it was all in vain that Mr. Tiverton read +the psalm and hymn, casting troubled glances toward the vacant seats +of his refractory singers. There was no one to respond, unless it were +good old Mr. Hodges, who pitched so high that few could follow him; +while Mrs. Captain Simpson--whose daughter, the organist, had been +snubbed at the last choir meeting by Mr. Hodges' daughter, the alto +singer--rolled up her eyes at her next neighbor, or fanned herself +furiously in token of her disgust. + +Latterly, however, there had come up a new cause of quarrel, before +which every other cause sank into insignificance. Now, though the +village of Devonshire could boast but one public schoolhouse, said +house being divided into two departments, the upper and lower +divisions, there were in the town several district schools; and for +the last few years a committee of three had been annually appointed to +examine and decide upon the merits of the various candidates for +teaching, giving to each, if the decision were favorable, a little +slip of paper certifying their qualifications to teach a common +school. Strange that over such an office so fierce a feud should have +arisen; but when Mr. Tiverton, Squire Lamb and Lawyer Whittemore, in +the full conviction that they were doing right, refused a certificate +of scholarship to Laura Tisdale, niece of Mrs. Judge Tisdale, and +awarded it to one whose earnings in a factory had procured for her a +thorough English education, the villagers, to use a vulgar phrase, +were at once set by the ears, the aristocracy abusing, and the +democracy upholding the dismayed trio, who, as the breeze blew harder, +quietly resigned their office, and Devonshire was without a school +committee. + +In this emergency something must be done, and, as the two belligerent +parties could only unite on a stranger, it seemed a matter of special +providence that only two months before, young Dr. Holbrook, a native +of modern Athens, had rented the pleasant little office on the village +common, formerly occupied by old Dr. Carey, now lying in the graveyard +by the side of some whose days he had prolonged, and others whose days +he had surely shortened. Besides being handsome, and skillful, and +quite as familiar with the poor as the rich, the young doctor was +descended from the aristocratic line of Boston Holbrooks, facts which +tended to make him a favorite with both classes; and, greatly to his +surprise, he found himself unanimously elected to the responsible +office of sole Inspector of Common Schools in Devonshire. It was in +vain that he remonstrated, saying he knew nothing whatever of the +qualifications requisite for a teacher; that he could not talk to +girls, young ones especially; that he should make a miserable failure, +and so forth. The people would not listen. Somebody must examine the +teachers and that somebody might as well be Dr. Holbrook as anybody. + +"Only be strict with 'em, draw the reins tight, find out to your +satisfaction whether a gal knows her P's and Q's before you give her a +stifficut. We've had enough of your ignoramuses," said Colonel Lewis, +the democratic potentate to whom Dr. Holbrook was expressing his fears +that he should not give satisfaction. Then, as a bright idea suggested +itself to the old gentleman, he added: "I tell you what, just cut one +or two at first; that'll give you a name for being particular, which +is just the thing." + +Accordingly, with no definite idea as to what was expected of him, +except that he was to find out "whether a girl knew her P's and Q's," +and was also to "cut one or two of the first candidates," Dr. Holbrook +accepted the office, and then awaited rather nervously his initiation. +He was not easy in the society of ladies, unless, indeed, the lady +stood in need of his professional services, when he lost sight of +_her_ at once, and thought only of her disease. His patient once +well, however, he became nervously shy and embarrassed, retreating as +soon as possible from her presence to the covert of his friendly +office, where, with his boots upon the table and his head thrown back +in a most comfortable position, he sat one April morning, in happy +oblivion of the bevy of girls who must, of course, ere long-invade his +sanctum. + +"Something for you, sir. The lady will wait for an answer," said his +"chore boy," passing to his master a little three-cornered note, and +nodding toward the street. + +Following the direction indicated, the doctor saw, drawn up near his +door, an old-fashioned one-horse wagon, such as is still occasionally +seen in New England. A square boxed, dark green wagon, drawn by a +sorrel horse, sometimes called by the genuine Yankee "yellow," and +driven by a white-haired man, whose silvery locks, falling around his +wrinkled face, gave to him a pleasing, patriarchal appearance, which +interested the doctor far more than did the flutter of the blue ribbon +beside him, even though the bonnet that ribbon tied shaded the face of +a young girl. The note was from her, and, tearing it open, the doctor +read, in the prettiest of all pretty, girlish handwriting: + +"Dr. Holbrook." + +Here it was plainly visible that a "D" had been written as if she +would have said "Dear." Then, evidently changing her mind, she had +with her finger blotted out the "D," and made it into an oddly shaped +"S," so that it read simply: + +"Dr. Holbrook--Sir: Will you be at leisure to examine me on Monday +afternoon, at three o'clock? + + "MADELINE A. CLYDE. + +"P. S.--For particular reasons I hope you can attend to me as early as +Monday. M. A. C." + +Dr. Holbrook knew very little of girls, but he thought this note, with +its P. S., decidedly girlish. Still he made no comment, either verbal +or mental, so flurried was he with knowing that the evil he so much +dreaded had come upon him at last. Had it been left to his choice, he +would far rather have extracted every one of that maiden's teeth, than +to have set himself up before her like some horrid ogre, asking what +she knew. But the choice was not his, and, turning to the boy, he +said, laconically, "Tell her to come." + +Most men would have sought for a glimpse of the face under the bonnet +tied with blue, but Dr. Holbrook did not care a picayune whether it +were ugly or fair, though it did strike him that the voice was +singularly sweet, which, after the boy had delivered his message, said +to the old man, "Now, grandpa, we'll go home. I know you must be +tired." + +Slowly Sorrel trotted down the street, the blue ribbons fluttering in +the wind, while one little ungloved hand was seen carefully adjusting +about the old man's shoulders the ancient camlet cloak which had done +duty for many a year, and was needed on this chill April day. The +doctor saw all this, and the impression left upon his mind was, that +Candidate No. 1 was probably a nice-ish kind of a girl, and very good +to her grandfather. But what should he ask her, and how demean himself +toward her? Monday afternoon was frightfully near, he thought, as this +was only Saturday; and then, feeling that he must be ready, he brought +out from the trunk, where, since his arrival in Devonshire, they had +bean quietly lying, books enough to have frightened an older person +than poor little Madeline Clyde, riding slowly home with grandpa, and +wishing so much that she'd had a glimpse of Dr. Holbrook, so as to +know what he was like, and hoping he would give her a chance to repeat +some of the many pages of geography and "Parley's History," which she +knew by heart. How she would have trembled could she have seen the +formidable volumes heaped upon his table and waiting for her. There +were French and Latin grammars, "Hamilton's Metaphysics," "Olmstead's +Philosophy," "Day's Algebra," "Butler's Analogy," and many others, +into which poor Madeline had never so much as looked. Arranging them +in a row, and half wishing himself back again to the days when he had +studied them, the doctor went out to visit his patients, of which +there were so many that Madeline Clyde entirely escaped his mind, nor +did she trouble him again until the dreaded Monday came, and the hands +of his watch pointed to two. + +"One hour more," he said to himself, just as the roll of wheels and a +cloud of dust announced the approach of something. + +Could it be Sorrel and the square-boxed wagon? Oh, no; far different +from grandfather Clyde's turnout was the stylish carriage and the +spirited bays dashing down the street, the colored driver reining them +suddenly, not before the office door, but just in front of the white +cottage in the same yard, the house where Dr. Holbrook boarded, and +where, if he ever married in Devonshire, he would most likely bring +his wife. + +"Guy Remington, the very chap of all others whom I'd rather see, and, +as I live, there's Agnes, with Jessie. Who knew she was in these +parts?" was the doctor's mental exclamation, as, running his fingers +through his hair and making a feint of pulling up the corners of his +rather limp collar, he hurried out to the carriage, from which a +dashing looking lady of thirty, or thereabouts, was alighting. + +"Why, Agnes, I beg your pardon, Mrs. Remington, when did you come?" he +asked, offering his hand to the lady, who, coquettishly shaking back +from her pretty, dollish face a profusion of light brown curls, gave +him the tips of her lavender kids, while she told him she had come to +Aikenside the Saturday before; and hearing, from Guy that the lady +with whom he boarded was an old friend of hers, she had driven over to +call, and brought Jessie with her. "Here, Jessie, speak to the doctor. +He was poor dear papa's friend," and a very proper sigh escaped Agnes +Remington's lips as she pushed a little curly-haired girl toward Dr. +Holbrook. + +The lady of the house had spied them by this time, and came running +down the walk to meet her rather distinguished visitor, wondering, it +may be, to what she was indebted for this call from one who, since her +marriage with the supposed wealthy Dr. Remington, had rather cut her +former acquaintances. Agnes was delighted to see her, and, as Guy +declined entering the cottage just then, the two friends disappeared +within the door, while the doctor and Guy repaired to the office, the +latter sitting down in the very chair intended for Madeline Clyde. +This reminded the doctor of his perplexity, and also brought the +comforting thought that Guy, who had never failed him yet, could +surely offer some suggestions. But he would not speak of her just now; +he had other matters to talk about, and so, jamming his penknife into +a pine table covered with similar jams, he said: "Agnes, it seems, has +come to Aikenside, notwithstanding she declared she never would, when +she found that the whole of the Remington property belonged to your +mother, and not your father." + +"Oh, yes. She got over her pique as soon as I settled a handsome +little income on Jessie, and, in fact, on her too, until she is +foolish enough to marry again, when it will cease, of course, as I do +not feel it my duty to support any man's wife, unless it be my own, or +my father's," was Guy Remington's reply; whereupon the penknife went +again into the table, and this time with so much force that the point +was broken off; but the doctor did not mind it, and with the jagged +end continued to make jagged marks, while he continued: "She'll hardly +marry again, though she may. She's young--not over twenty-six--- + +"Twenty-eight, if the family Bible does not lie; but she'd never +forgive me if she knew I told you that. So let it pass that she's +twenty-six. She certainly is not more than three years your senior, a +mere nothing, if you wish to make her Mrs. Holbrook;" and Guy's dark +eyes scanned curiously the doctor's face, as if seeking there for the +secret of his proud young stepmother's anxiety to visit plain Mrs. +Conner that afternoon. But the doctor only laughed merrily at the idea +of his being father to Guy, his college chum and long-tried friend. + +Agnes Remington--reclining languidly in Mrs. Conner's easy-chair, and +overwhelming her former friend with descriptions of the gay parties +she had attended in Boston, and the fine sights she saw in Europe, +whither her gray-haired husband had taken her for a wedding tour-- +would not have felt particularly flattered, could she have seen that +smile, or heard how easily, from talking of her, Dr. Holbrook turned +to another theme, to Madeline Clyde, expected now almost every moment. +There was a merry laugh on Guy's part, as he listened to the doctor's +story, and, when it was finished, he said: "Why, I see nothing so very +distasteful in examining a pretty girl, and puzzling her, to see her +blush. I half wish I were in your place. I should enjoy the novelty of +the thing." "Oh, take it, then; take my place, Guy," the doctor +exclaimed, eagerly. "She does not know me from Adam. Here are books, +all you will need. You went to a district school once a week when you +were staying in the country. You surely have some idea, while I have +not the slightest. Will you, Guy?" he persisted more earnestly, as he +heard wheels in the street, and was sure old Sorrel had come again. + +Guy Remington liked anything savoring of a frolic, but in his mind +there were certain conscientious scruples touching the justice of the +thing, and so at first he demurred; while the doctor still insisted, +until at last he laughingly consented to commence the examination, +provided the doctor would sit by, and occasionally come to his aid. + +"You must write the certificate, of course," he said, "testifying that +she is qualified to teach." + +"Yes, certainly, Guy, if she is; but maybe she won't be, and my orders +are, to be strict--very strict." + +"How did she look?" Guy asked, and the doctor replied: "Saw nothing +but her bonnet. Came in a queer old go-giggle of a wagon, such as your +country farmers drive. Guess she won't be likely to stir up the bile +of either of us, particularly as I am bullet proof, and you have been +engaged for years. By the way, when do you cross the sea again for the +fair Lucy? Rumor says this summer." + +"Rumor is wrong, as usual, then," was Guy's reply, a soft light +stealing into his handsome eyes. Then, after a moment, he added: "Miss +Atherstone's health is far too delicate for her to incur the risks of +a climate like ours. If she were well acclimated, I should be glad, +for it is terribly lonely up at Aikenside." + +"And do you really think a wife would make it pleasanter?" Dr Holbrook +asked, the tone of his voice indicating a little doubt as to a man's +being happier for having a helpmate to share his joys and sorrows. + +But no such doubts dwelt in the mind of Guy Remington. Eminently +fitted for domestic happiness, he looked forward anxiously to the time +when sweet Lucy Atherstone, the fair English girl to whom he had +become engaged when, four years before, he visited Europe, should be +strong enough to bear transplanting to American soil. Twice since his +engagement he had visited her, finding her always lovely, gentle, and +yielding. Too yielding, it sometimes seemed to him, while occasionally +the thought had flashed upon him that she did not possess a very +remarkable depth of intellect. But he said to himself, he did not +care; he hated strong-minded women, and would far rather his wife +should be a little weak than masculine, like his Aunt Margaret, who +sometimes wore bloomers, and advocated women's rights. Yes, he greatly +preferred Lucy Atherstone, as she was, to a wife like the stately +Margaret, or like Agnes, his pretty stepmother, who only thought how +she could best attract attention; and as it had never occurred to him +that there might be a happy medium, that a woman need not be brainless +to be feminine and gentle, he was satisfied with his choice, as well +he might be, for a fairer, sweeter flower never bloomed than Lucy +Atherstone, his affianced bride. Guy loved to think of Lucy, and as +the doctor's remarks brought her to his mind, he went off into a +reverie concerning her, becoming so lost in thought that until the +doctor's hand was laid upon his shoulder by way of rousing him, he did +not see that what his friend had designated as a go-giggle was +stopping in front of the office, and that from it a young girl was +alighting. + +Naturally very polite to females, Guy's first impulse was to go to her +assistance, but she did not need it, as was proven by the light spring +with which she reached the ground. The white-haired man was with her +again, but he evidently did not intend to stop, and a close observer +might have detected a shade of sadness and anxiety upon his face as +Madeline called cheerily out to him: "Good-by, grandpa. Don't fear for +me; I hope you have good luck;" then, as he drove away, she ran a step +after him and said; "Don't look so sorry, for if Mr. Remington won't +let you have the money, there's my pony, Beauty. I am willing to give +him up." + +"Never, Maddy. It's all the little fortin' you've got. I'll let the +old place go first;" and, chirruping to Sorrel, the old man drove on, +while Madeline walked, with a beating heart, to the office door, +knocking timidly. + +Glancing involuntarily at each other, the young men exchanged meaning +smiles, while the doctor whispered softly: "Verdant--that's sure. +Wonder if she'll knock at a church." + +As Guy sat nearest the door, it was he who held it ajar while Madeline +came in, her soft brown eyes glistening with something like a tear, +and her cheeks burning with excitement as she took the chair indicated +by Guy Remington, who unconsciously found himself master of +ceremonies. + +Poor little Madeline! + + + + +CHAPTER II + +MADELINE CLYDE. + + +Madge her schoolmates called her, because the name suited her, they +said; but Maddy they called her at home, and there was a world of +unutterable tenderness in the voices of the old couple, her +grandparents, when they said that name, while their dim eyes lighted +up with pride and joy when they rested upon the young girl who +answered to the name of Maddy. Their only daughter's only child, she +had lived with them since her mother's death, for her father was a sea +captain, who never returned from his last voyage to China, made two +months before she was born. Very lonely and desolate would the home of +Grandfather Markham have been without the presence of Madeline, but +with her there, the old red farmhouse seemed to the aged couple like a +paradise. + +Forty years they had lived there, tilling the rather barren soil of +the rocky homestead, and, saving the sad night when they heard that +Richard Clyde was lost at sea, and the far sadder morning when their +daughter died, bitter sorrow had not come to them; and, truly thankful +for the blessings so long vouchsafed them, they had retired each night +in peace with God and man, and risen each morning to pray. But a +change was coming over them. In an evil hour Grandpa Markham had +signed a note for a neighbor and friend, who failed to pay, and so it +all fell on Mr. Markham, who, to meet the demand, mortgaged his +homestead; the recreant neighbor still insisting that long before the +mortgage should be due, he certainly would be able himself to meet it. +This, however, he had not done, and, after twice begging off a +foreclosure, poor old Grandfather Markham found himself at the mercy +of a grasping, remorseless man, into whose hands the mortgage had +passed. It was vain to hope that Silas Slocum would wait. The money +must either be forthcoming, or the red farmhouse be sold, with its few +acres of land. Among his neighbors there was not one who had the money +to spare, even if they had been willing to do so. And so he must look +among strangers. + +"If I could only help," Madeline had said one evening when they sat +talking over their troubles; "but there's nothing I can do, unless I +apply for our school this summer. Mr. Green is committeeman; he likes +us, and I don't believe but what he'll let me have it. I mean to go +and see;" and, ere the old people had recovered from their +astonishment, Madeline had caught her bonnet and shawl, and was flying +down the road. + +Madeline was a favorite with all, especially with Mr. Green, and as +the school would be small that summer, the plan struck him favorably. +Her age, however, was an objection, and he must take time to see what +others thought of a child like her becoming a schoolmistress. Others +thought well of it, and so before the close of the next day it was +generally known through Honedale, as the southern part of Devonshire +was called, that pretty little Madge Clyde had been engaged as +teacher, she receiving three dollars a week, with the understanding +that she must board herself. It did not take Madeline long to +calculate that twelve times three were thirty-six, more than a tenth +of what her grandfather must borrow. It seemed like a little fortune, +and blithe as a singing bird she flitted about the house, now stopping +a moment to fondle her pet kitten, while she whispered the good news +in its very appreciative ear, and then stroking her grandfather's +silvery hair, as she said: + +"You can tell them that you are sure of paying thirty-six dollars in +the fall, and if I do well, maybe they'll hire me longer. I mean to +try my very best. I wonder if ever anybody before me taught a school +when they were only fourteen and a half. Do I look as young as that?" +and for an instant the bright; childish face scanned itself eagerly in +the old-fashioned mirror, with the figure of an eagle on the top. + +She did look very young, and yet there was something womanly, too, in +the expression of the face, something which said that life's realities +were already beginning to be understood by her. + +"If my hair were not short I should do better. What a pity I cut it +the last time; it would have been so long and splendid now," she +continued, giving a kind of contemptuous pull at the thick, beautiful +brown hair on whose glossy surface there was in certain lights a +reddish tinge, which added to its beauty. + +"Never mind the hair, Maddy," the old man said, gazing fondly at her +with a half sigh as he remembered another brown head, pillowed now +beneath the graveyard turf. "Maybe you won't pass muster, and then the +hair will make no difference. There's a new committee-man, that Dr. +Holbrook, from Boston, and new ones are apt to be mighty strict." + +Instantly Maddy's face flushed all over with nervous dread, as she +thought: "What if I should fail?" fancying that to do so would be an +eternal disgrace. But she should not. She was called by everybody the +very best scholar in school, the one whom the teachers always put +forward when desirous of showing off, the one whom Mr. Tiverton, and +Squire Lamb, and Lawyer Whittemore always noticed so much. Of course +she should not fail, though she did dread Dr. Holbrook, wondering much +what he would ask her first, and hoping it would be something in +arithmetic, provided he did not stumble upon decimals, where she was +apt to get bewildered. She had no fears of grammar. She could pick out +the most obscure sentence and dissect a double relative with perfect +ease; then, as to geography, she could repeat whole pages of that, +while in the spelling-book, the foundation of a thorough education, as +she had been taught, she had no superiors, and but a very few equals. +Still she would be very glad when it was over, and she appointed +Monday, both because it was close at hand, and because that was the +day her grandfather had set in which to ride to Aikenside, in an +adjoining town, and ask its young master for the loan of three hundred +dollars. + +He could hardly tell why he had thought of applying to Guy Remington +for help, unless it were that he once had saved the life of Guy's +father, who, as long as he lived, had evinced a great regard for his +benefactor, frequently asserting that he meant to do something for +him. But the something was never done, the father was dead, and in his +strait the old man turned to the son, whom he knew to be very rich, +and who he had been told was exceedingly generous. + +"How I wish I could go with you clear up to Aikenside! They say it's +so beautiful," Madeline had said, as on Saturday evening they sat +discussing the expected events of the following Monday. "Mrs. Noah, +the housekeeper, had Sarah Jones there once, to sew, and she told me +all about it. There are graveled walks, and nice green lawns, and big, +tall trees, and flowers--oh! so many!--and marble fountains, with gold +fishes in the basin; and statues, big as folks, all over the yard, +with two brass lions on the gateposts. But the house is finest of all. +There's a drawing-room bigger than a ballroom, with carpets that let +your feet sink in so far; pictures and mirrors clear to the floor-- +think of that, grandpa! a looking-glass so tall that one can see the +very bottom of their dress and know just how it hangs. Oh, I do so +wish I could have a peep at it! There are two in one room, and the +windows are like doors, with lace curtains; but what is queerest of +all, the chairs and sofas are covered with real silk, just like that +funny, gored gown of grandma's up in the oak chest. Dear me! I wonder +if I'll ever live in such a place as Aikenside?" + +"No, no, Maddy, no. Be satisfied with the lot where God has put you, +and don't be longing after something higher, Our Father in heaven +knows just what is best for us; as He didn't see fit to put you up at +Aikenside, 'tain't noways likely you'll ever live in the like of it." + +"Not unless I should happen to marry a rich man. Poor girls like me +have sometimes done that, haven't they?" was Maddy's demure reply. + +Grandpa Markham shook his head. + +"They have, but it's mostly their ruination; so don't build castles in +the air about this Guy Remington." + +"Me! Oh, grandpa, I never dreamed of Mr. Guy!" and Madeline blushed +half indignantly. "He's too rich, too aristocratic, though Sarah said +he didn't act one bit proud, and was so pleasant, the servants all +worship him, and Mrs. Noah thinks him good enough for the Queen of +England. I shall think so, too, if he lets you have the money. How I +wish it was Monday night, so we could know sure!" + +"Perhaps we both shall be terribly disappointed," suggested grandpa, +but Maddy was more hopeful. + +She, at least, would not fail, while what she had heard of Guy +Remington, the heir of Aikenside, made her believe that he would +accede at once to her grandpa's request. + +All that night she was working to pay the debt, giving the money +herself into the hands of Guy Remington, whom she had never seen, but +who came up in her dreams the tall, handsome-looking man she had so +often heard described by Sarah Jones after her return from Aikenside. +Even the next day, when, by her grandparent's side, Maddy knelt +reverently in the small, time-worn church at Honedale, her thoughts, +it must be confessed, were wandering more to the to-morrow and +Aikenside, than to the sacred words her lips were uttering. She knew +it was wrong, and with a nervous start would try to bring her mind +back from decimal fractions to what the minister was saying; but Maddy +was mortal, and right in the midst of the Collect, Aikenside and its +owner would rise before her, together with the wonder how she and her +grandfather would feel one week from that Sabbath day. Would the +desired certificate be hers? or would she be disgraced forever and +ever by a rejection? Would the mortgage be paid and her grandfather at +ease, or would his heart be breaking with the knowing he must leave +what had been his home for so many years? Not thus was it with the +aged disciple beside her--the good old man, whose white locks swept +the large lettered book over which his wrinkled face was bent, as he +joined in the responses, or said the prayers whose words had over him +so soothing an influence, carrying his thoughts upward to the house +not made with hands, which he felt assured would one day be his. Once +or twice, it is true, thoughts of losing the dear old red cottage +flitted across his mind with a keen, sudden pang, but he put it +quickly aside, remembering at the same instant how the Father he loved +doeth all things well to such as are His children. Grandpa Markham was +old in the Christian course, while Maddy could hardly be said to have +commenced as yet, and so to her that April Sunday was long and +wearisome. How she did wish she might just look over the geography, by +way of refreshing her memory, or see exactly how the rule for +extracting the cube root did read, but Maddy forebore, reading only +the Pilgrim's Progress, the Bible, and the book brought from the +Sunday school. + +With the earliest dawn, however, she was up, and her grandmother heard +her repeating to herself much of what she dreaded Dr. Holbrook might +question her upon. Even when bending over the washtub, for there were +no servants at the red cottage, a book was arranged before her so that +she could study with her eyes, while her small, fat hands and dimpled +arms were busy in the suds. Before ten o'clock everything was done, +the clothes, white as the snowdrops in the garden beds, were swinging +on the line, the kitchen floor was scrubbed, the windows washed, the +best room swept, the vegetables cleaned for dinner, and then Maddy's +work was finished. "Grandma could do all the rest," she said, and +Madeline was free "to put her eyes out over them big books if she +liked." + +Swiftly flew the hours until it was time to be getting ready, when +again the short hair was deplored, as before her looking-glass +Madeline brushed and arranged her shining, beautiful locks. Would Dr. +Holbrook think of her age? Suppose he should ask it. But no, he +wouldn't. If Mr. Green thought her old enough, surely it was not a +matter with which the doctor need trouble himself; and, somewhat at +ease on that point, Madeline donned her longest frock, and, standing +in a chair, tried to discover how much of her pantalets was visible. + +"I could see splendidly in Mr. Remington's mirrors," she said to +herself, with a half sigh of regret that her lot had not been cast in +some such place as Aikenside, instead of there beneath the hill in +that wee bit of a cottage, whose rear slanted back until it almost +touched the ground. "After all, I guess I'm happier here," she +thought. "Everybody likes me, while if I were Mr. Guy's sister and +lived at Aikenside, I might be proud and wicked, and--" + +She did not finish the sentence, but somehow the story of Dives and +Lazarus, read by her grandfather that morning, recurred to her mind, +and feeling how much rather she would rest in Abraham's bosom than +share the fate of him who once was clothed in purple and fine linen +she pinned on her little neat plaid shawl, and, tying the blue ribbons +of her coarse straw hat, glanced once more at the formidable cube +root, and then hurried down to where her grandfather and old Sorrel +wore waiting for her. + +"I shall be so happy when I come back, because it will then be over, +just like having a tooth out, you know," she said to her grandmother, +who bent down for the good-by kiss without which Maddy never left her. +"Now, grandpa, drive on; I was to be there at three," and chirruping +herself to Sorrel, the impatient Madge went riding from the cottage +door, chatting cheerily until the village of Devonshire was reached; +then, with a farewell to her grandfather, who never dreamed that the +man whom he was seeking was so near, she tripped up the flagging walk, +and, as we have seen, soon stood in the presence of not only Dr. +Holbrook, but also of Guy Remington. + +Poor, poor little Madge! + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE EXAMINATION. + + +It was Guy who received her, Guy who pointed to a chair, Guy who +seemed perfectly at home, and, naturally enough, she took him for Dr. +Holbrook, wondering who the other black-haired man could be, and if he +meant to stay in there all the while. It would be very dreadful if he +did, and in her agitation and excitement the cube root was in danger +of being altogether forgotten. Half guessing the cause of her +uneasiness, and feeling more averse than ever to taking part in the +matter, the doctor, after a hasty survey of her person, withdrew into +the background, and sat where he could not be seen. This brought the +short dress into full view, together with the dainty little foot, +nervously beating the floor. + +"She's very young," he thought; "too young, by far," and Maddy's +chances of success were beginning to decline even before a word had +been spoken. + +How terribly still it was for the time, during which telegraphic +communications were silently passing between Guy and the doctor, the +latter shaking his dead decidedly, while the former insisted that he +should do his duty. Madeline could almost hear the beatings of her +heart, and only by counting and recounting the poplar trees growing +across the street could she keep back the tears. What was he waiting +for, she wondered, and, at last, summoning all her courage, she lifted +her great brown eyes to Guy, and said, pleadingly: + +"Would you be so kind, sir, as to begin?" + +"Yes, certainly," and electrified by that young, bird-like voice, the +sweetest save one he had ever heard, Guy knocked down from the pile of +books the only one at all appropriate to the occasion, the others +being as far beyond what was taught in the district schools as his +classical education was beyond Madeline's common one. + +Remembering that the teacher of whom he had once been for a week a +pupil, in the town of Framingham, had commenced operations by +sharpening a lead pencil, so he now sharpened a similar one, +determining as far as he could to follow that teacher's example. Maddy +counted every fragment as it fell upon the floor, wishing so much that +he would commence, and fancying that it would not be half so bad to +have him approach her with some one of those terrible dental +instruments lying before her, as it was to sit and wait as she was +waiting. Had Guy Remington reflected a little, he would never have +consented to do the doctor's work; but, unaccustomed to country +usages, especially those pertaining to schools and teachers, he did +not consider that it mattered which examined that young girl, himself +or Dr. Holbrook. Viewing it somewhat in the light of a joke, he rather +enjoyed it; and as the Framingham teacher had first asked her pupils +their names and ages, so he, when the pencil was sharpened +sufficiently, startled Madeline by asking her name. + +"Madeline Amelia Clyde," was the meek reply, which Guy quickly +recorded. + +Now, Guy Remington intended no irreverence; indeed, he could not tell +what he did intend, or what it was which prompted his next query: + +"Who gave you this name?" + +Perhaps he fancied himself a boy again in the Sunday school, and +standing before the railing of the altar, where, with others of his +age, he had been asked the question propounded to Madeline Clyde, who +did not hear the doctor's smothered laugh as he retreated into the +adjoining room. + +In all her preconceived ideas of this examination, she had never +dreamed of being catechised, and with a feeling of terror as she +thought of that long answer to the question, "What is thy duty to thy +neighbor?" and doubted her ability to repeat it, she said: "My +sponsors, in baptism gave me the first name of Madeline Amelia, sir," +adding, as she caught and misconstrued the strange gleam in the dark +eyes bent upon her, "I am afraid I have forgotten some of the +catechism; I did not know it was necessary in order to teach school." + +"Certainly, no; I do not think it is. I beg your pardon," were Guy +Remington's ejaculatory replies, as he glanced from Madeline to the +open door of the adjoining room, where was visible a slate, on which, +in huge letters, the amused doctor had written "Blockhead." + +There was something in Madeline's quiet, womanly, earnest manner which +commanded Guy's respect, or he would have given vent to the laughter +which was choking him, and thrown off his disguise. But he could not +bear now to undeceive her, and, resolutely turning his back upon the +doctor, he sat down by that pile of books and commenced the +examination in earnest, asking first her age. + +"Going on fifteen," sounded older to Madeline than "Fourteen and a +half," so "Going on fifteen" was the reply, to which Guy responded: +"That is very young, Miss Clyde." + +"Yes, but Mr. Green did not mind. He's the committeeman. He knew how +young I was," Madeline said, eagerly, her great brown eyes growing +large with the look of fear which came so suddenly into them. + +Guy noticed the eyes then, and thought them very bright and handsome +for brown, but not so bright or handsome as a certain pair of soft +blue orbs he knew, and feeling a thrill of satisfaction that sweet +Lucy Atherstone was not obliged to sit there in that doctor's office +to be questioned by him or any other man, he said: "Of course, if your +employers are satisfied it is nothing to me, only I had associated +teaching with women much older than yourself. What is logic, Miss +Clyde?" + +The abruptness with which he put the question startled Madeline to +such a degree that she could not positively tell whether she had ever +heard that word before, much less could she recall its meaning, and so +she answered frankly, "I don't know." + +A girl who did not know what logic was did not know much, in Guy's +estimation, but it would not do to stop here, and so he asked her next +how many cases there were in Latin! + +Maddy felt the hot blood tingling to her very fingertips, the +examination had taken a course so widely different from her ideas of +what it would probably be. She had never looked inside a Latin +grammar, and again her truthful "I don't know, sir," fell on Guy's +ear, but this time there was a half despairing tone in the young voice +usually so hopeful. + +"Perhaps, then, you can conjugate the verb _Amo,_" Guy said, his +manner indicating the doubt he was beginning to feel as to her +qualifications. + +Maddy knew well what "conjugate" meant, but that verb _Amo_, what +could it mean? and had she ever heard it before? Mr. Remington was +waiting for her; she must say something, and with a gasp she began: "I +amo, thou amoest, he amoes. Plural: We amo, ye or you amo, they amo." + +Guy looked at her aghast for a single moment, and then a comical smile +broke all over his face, telling poor Maddy plainer than words could +have done, that she had made a most ridiculous mistake. + +"Oh, sir," she cried, her eyes wearing the look of the frightened +hare, "it is not right. I don't know what it means. Tell me, teach me. +What is it to amo?" + +To most men it would not have seemed a very disagreeable task, +teaching young Madeline Clyde "to amo," as she termed it, and some +such idea flitted across Guy's mind, as he thought how pretty and +bright was the eager face upturned to his, the pure white forehead, +suffused with a faint flush, the cheeks a crimson hue, and the pale +lips parted slightly as Maddy appealed to him for the definition of +"amo." + +"It is a Latin verb, and means 'to love'" Guy said, with an emphasis +on the last word, which would have made Maddy blush had she been less +anxious and frightened. + +Thus far she had answered nothing correctly, and, feeling puzzled to +know how to proceed, Guy stepped into the adjoining room to consult +with the doctor, but he was gone. So returning again to Madeline, Guy +resumed the examination by asking her how "minus into minus could +produce plus." + +Again Maddy was at fault, and her low-spoken "I don't know" sounded +like a wail of despair. Did she know anything, Guy wondered, and +feeling some curiosity now to ascertain that fact, he plied her with +questions philosophical, questions algebraical, and questions +geometrical, until in an agony of distress Maddy raised her hands +deprecatingly, as if she would ward off any similar questions, and +sobbed out: + +"Oh, sir, no more. It makes my head so dizzy. They don't teach that in +common schools. Ask me something I do know." + +Suddenly it occurred to Guy that he had gone entirely wrong, and +mentally cursing himself for the blockhead the doctor had called him, +he asked, kindly: + +"What do they teach? Perhaps you can enlighten me?" + +"Geography, arithmetic, grammar, history, and spelling-book," Madeline +replied, untying and throwing off her bonnet, in the vain hope that it +might bring relief to her poor, giddy head, which throbbed so +fearfully that all her ideas seemed for the time to have left her. + +This was a natural consequence of the high excitement under which she +was laboring, and so, when Guy did ask her concerning the books +designated, she answered but little better than before, and Guy was +wondering what he should do next, when the doctor's welcome step was +heard, and leaving Madeline again, he repaired to the next room to +report his ill success. + +"She does not seem to know anything. The veriest child ought to do +better than she has done. Why, she has scarcely answered half a dozen +questions correctly." + +This was what poor Maddy heard, though it was spoken in a low whisper; +but every word was distinctly understood and burned into her heart's +core, drying her tears and hardening her into a block of marble. She +knew that Guy had not done her justice, and this helped to increase +the torpor stealing over her. Still she did not lose a syllable of +what was saying in the back office, and her lip curled scornfully when +she heard Guy remark: "I pity her; she is so young, and evidently +takes it so hard. Maybe she's as good as they average. Suppose we give +her the certificate." + +Then Dr. Holbrook spoke, but to poor, dazed Maddy his words were all a +riddle. It was nothing to him--who was he that he should be dictating +thus? There seemed to be a difference of opinion between the young +men, Guy insisting that out of pity she should not be rejected; and +the doctor demurring on the ground that he ought to be more strict. As +usual, Guy overruled, and seating himself at the table, the doctor was +just commencing: "I hereby certify--" while Guy was bending over him, +when the latter was startled by a hand laid firmly on his arm, and +turning quickly he confronted Madeline Clyde, who, with her short hair +pushed from her blue-veined forehead, her face as pale as ashes, save +where a round spot of purplish red burned upon her cheeks, and her +eyes gleaming like coals of fire, stood before him. + +"He need not write that," she said, huskily, pointing to the doctor, +"It would be a lie, and I could not take it. You do not think me +qualified. I heard you say so. I do not want to be pitied. I do not +want a certificate because I am so young, and you think I'll feel +badly. I do not want--" + +Her voice failed her, her bosom heaved, and the choking sobs came +thick and fast, but still she shed no tear, and in her bright, dry +eyes there was a look which made both those young men turn away +involuntarily. Once Guy tried to excuse her failure, saying she no +doubt was frightened. She would probably do better again, and might as +well accept the certificate, but Madeline still said no, so decidedly +that further remonstrance was useless. She would not take what she had +no right to, she said, but if they pleased she would wait there in the +back office until her grandfather came back; it would not be long, and +she should not trouble them. + +Guy brought her the easy-chair from the front room and placed it for +her by the window. With a faint smile she thanked him and said: "You +are very kind," but the smile hurt Guy cruelly, it was so sad, so full +of unintentional reproach, while the eyes she lifted to his looked so +grieved and weary that he insensibly murmured to himself: "Poor +child!" as he left her, and with the doctor repaired to the house, +where Agnes was impatiently waiting for them. Poor, poor little Madge! +Let those smile who may at her distress; it was the first keen +disappointment she had ever had, and it crushed her as completely as +many an older person has been crushed by heavier calamities. + +"Disgraced for ever and ever," she kept repeating to herself, as she +tried to shake off the horrid nightmare stealing over her. "How can I +hold up my head again at home where nobody will understand just how it +was; nobody but grandpa and grandma? Oh, grandpa, I can't earn that +thirty-six dollars now. I most wish I was dead, and I am--I am dying. +Somebody--come--quick!" + +There was a heavy fall, and while in Mrs. Conner's parlor Guy +Remington and Dr. Holbrook were chatting gayly with Agnes, a childish +figure was lying upon the office floor, white, stiff, and insensible. + +Little Jessie Remington, tired of sitting still and listening to what +her mamma and Mrs. Conner were saying, had strayed off into the +garden, and after filling her chubby hands with daffodils and early +violets, wended her way to the office, the door of which was partially +ajar. Peering curiously in, she saw the crumpled bonnet, with its +ribbons of blue, and, attracted by this, advanced into the room, until +she came where Madeline was lying. With a feeling that something was +wrong, Jessie bent over the prostrate girl, asking if she were asleep, +and lifting next the long, fringed lashes drooping on the colorless +cheek. The dull, dead expression of the eyes sent a chill through +Jessie's frame, and hurrying to the house she cried: "Oh, Brother Guy, +somebody's dead in the office, and her bonnet is all jammed!" + +Scarcely were the words uttered ere Guy and the doctor both were with +Madeline, the former holding her tenderly in his arms, while he +smoothed the short hair, thinking even then how soft and luxuriant it +was, and how fair was the face which never moved a muscle beneath his +scrutiny. The doctor was wholly self-possessed. Maddy had no terrors +for him now. She needed his services, and he rendered them willingly, +applying restoratives which soon brought back signs of life in the +rigid form. With a shiver and a moan Madeline whispered: "Oh, grandma, +I'm so tired," and nestled closer to the bosom where she had never +dreamed of lying. + +By this time both Mrs. Conner and Agnes had come out, asking in much +surprise who the stranger could be, and what was the cause of her +illness. As if there had been a previous understanding between them, +the doctor and Guy were silent with regard to the recent farce enacted +there, simply saying it was possible she was in the habit of fainting; +many people were. Very daintily, Agnes held up and back the skirt of +her rich silk as if fearful that it might come in contact with +Madeline's plain delaine; then, as it was not very interesting for her +to stand and see the doctor "make so much fuss over a young girl," as +she mentally expressed it, she returned to the house, bidding Jessie +do the same. But Jessie refused, choosing to stay by Madeline, whom +they placed upon the comfortable lounge, which she preferred to being +taken to the house, as Guy proposed. + +"I'm better now, much better," she said. "Leave me, please. I'd rather +be alone." + +So they left her, all but Jessie, who, fascinated by the sweet young +face, climbed upon the lounge and, laying her curly head caressingly +against Madeline's arm, said to her: "Poor girl, you're sick, and I am +so sorry. What makes you sick?" + +There was genuine sympathy in that little voice, and it opened the +pent-up flood beating so furiously, and roused Maddy's heart. With a +cry as of sudden pain she clasped the child in her arms and wept out a +wild, stormy fit of weeping which did her so much good. Forgetting +that Jessie could not understand, and feeling it a relief to tell her +grief to some one, she said, in reply to Jessie's oft repeated +inquiries as to what was the matter: "I did not get a certificate, and +I wanted it so much, for we are poor, and our house is mortgaged, and +I was going to help grandpa pay it." + +"It's dreadful to be poor!" sighed little Jessie, as her waxen fingers +threaded the soft, nut-brown hair resting in her lap, where Maddy had +lain her aching head. + +Maddy did not know who this beautiful child was, but her sympathy was +very sweet, and they talked together as children will, until Mrs. +Agnes' voice was heard calling to her little girl that it was time to +go. + +"I love you, Maddy, and I mean to tell brother about it," Jessie said, +as she wound her arms around Madeline's neck and kissed her at +parting. + +It never occurred to Maddy to ask her name, so stupified she felt, and +with a responsive kiss she sent her away. Leaning her head upon the +table, she forgot all but her own wretchedness, and so did not see the +gayly-dressed, haughty-looking lady who swept past the door, +accompanied by Guy and Dr. Holbrook. Neither did she hear, or notice, +if she did, the hum of their voices as they talked together for a +moment, Agnes asking the doctor very prettily to come up to Aikenside +while she was there, and bring his ladylove. Engaged young men like +Guy were so stupid, she said, as with a merry laugh she sprang into +the carriage; and, bowing gracefully to the doctor, was driven rapidly +toward Aikenside. + +Rather slowly the doctor returned to the office, and after fidgeting +for a time among the powders and phials, summoned courage to ask +Madeline how she felt, and if any of the fainting symptoms had +returned. + +"No, sir," was all the reply she gave him, never lifting up her head, +or even thinking which of the two young men it was speaking to her. + +There was a call just then for Dr. Holbrook, and leaving his office in +charge of Tom, his chore boy, he went away, feeling slightly +uncomfortable whenever he thought of the girl to whom he felt that +justice had not been done. + +"I half wish I had examined her myself," he said. "Of course she was +excited, and could not answer; beside, hanged if I don't believe it +was all humbug tormenting her with Greek and Latin. Yes; I'll question +her when I get back, and if she'll possibly pass, give her the +certificate. Poor child; how white she was, and what a queer look +there was in those great eyes, when she said: 'I shall not take it.'" + +Never in his life before had Dr. Holbrook been as much interested in +any female who was not sick as he was in Madeline, and determining to +make his call on Mrs. Briggs as brief as possible, he alighted at her +gate, and knocked impatiently at her door. He found her pretty sick, +while both her children needed a prescription, and so long a time was +he detained that his heart misgave him on his homeward route, lest +Maddy should be gone, and with her the chance to remedy the wrong he +might have done her. + +Maddy was gone, and the wheel ruts of the square-boxed wagon were +fresh before the door when he came back. Grandpa Markham had returned, +and Madeline, who recognized old Sorrel's step, had gathered her shawl +around her and gone sadly out to meet him. One look at her face was +sufficient. + +"You failed, Maddy?" the old man said, fixing about her feet the warm +buffalo robe, for the night wind was blowing cool. + +"Yes, grandpa, I failed." + +They were out of the village and more than a mile on their way home +before Madeline found voice to say so much, and they were nearer home +by half a mile ere the old man answered back: + +"And, Maddy, I failed too." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +GRANDPA MARKHAM. + + +Mrs. Noah, the housekeeper at Aikenside, was slicing vegetable oysters +for the nice little dish intended for her own supper, when the head of +Sorrel came around the corner of the building, followed by the square- +boxed wagon containing Grandpa Markham, who, bewildered by the beauty +and spaciousness of the grounds, and wholly uncertain as to where he +ought to stop, had driven over the smooth-graveled road around to the +front kitchen door, Mrs. Noah's spacious domain, as sacred as Betsey +Trotwood's patch of green. + +"In the name of wonder, what codger is that? and what is he doing +here?" was Mrs. Noah's exclamation, as she dropped the bit of salsify +she was scraping, and hurrying to the door, called out: "I say, you, +sir, what made you drive up here, when I've said over and over again, +that I wouldn't have wheels tearing up turf and gravel?" + +"I--I beg your pardon. I lost my way, I guess, there was so many +turnin's, I'm sorry, but a little rain will fetch it right," grandpa +said, glancing ruefully at the ruts in the gravel and the marks on the +turf. + +Mrs. Noah was not at heart an unkind woman, and something in the +benignant expression of grandpa's face, or in the apologetic tone of +his voice, mollified her somewhat, and without further comment she +stood waiting for his next remark. It was a most unfortunate one, for +though as free from weakness as most of her sex, Mrs. Noah was +terribly sensitive as to her age, and the same census-taker would +never venture twice within her precincts. Glancing at her dress, which +was this leisure afternoon much smarter than usual, grandpa concluded +she could not be a servant; and as she seemed to have a right to say +where he should drive and where he should not, the meek old man +concluded she was a near relation of Guy--mother, perhaps; but no, +Guy's mother was dead, as grandpa well knew, for all Devonshire had +heard of the young bride Agnes, who had married Guy's father for money +and rank. To have been mistaken for Guy's mother would not have +offended Mrs. Noah particularly; but how was she shocked when Grandpa +Markham said: + +"I come on business with Squire Guy. Are you his gran'marm?" "His +gran'marm!" and Mrs. Noah bit off the last syllable spitefully. "Bless +you, man, Squire Guy, as you call him, is twenty-five years old." + +As Grandpa Markham was rather blind, he failed to see the point, but +knew that in some way he had given offense. + +"I beg your pardon, ma'am; I was sure you was some kin--maybe an +a'nt." + +No, she was not even that; but willing enough to let the old man +believe her a lady of the Remington order, she did not explain that +she was simply the housekeeper, she simply said: + +"If it's Mr. Guy you want, I can tell you he is not at home, which +will save your getting out." + +"Not at home, and I've come so far to see him!" grandpa exclaimed, and +in his voice there was so much genuine disappointment that Mrs. Noah +rejoined, quite kindly: + +"He's gone over to Devonshire with the young lady his stepmother. +Perhaps you might tell your business to me; I know all Mr. Guy's +affairs." + +"If I might come in, ma'am," he answered, meekly, as through the open +door he caught glimpses of a cheerful fire. "It's mighty chilly for +such as me." He did look cold and blue, Mrs. Noah thought, and she +bade him come in, feeling a very little contempt for the old-fashioned +camlet cloak in which his feet became entangled, and smiling inwardly +at the shrunken, faded pantaloons, betokening poverty. + +"As you know all Squire Guy's affairs," grandpa said, when he was +seated before the fire, "maybe you could tell whether he would be +likely to lend a stranger three hundred dollars, and that stranger +me?" + +Mrs. Noah stared at him aghast. Was he crazy, or did he mean to insult +her master? Evidently neither. He seemed as sane as herself, while no +one could associate an insult with him. He did not know anything. That +was the solution of his audacity, and pityingly, as she would have +addressed a half idiot, Mrs. Noah made him understand how impossible +it was for him to think her master would lend to a stranger like him. + +"You say he's gone to Devonshire," grandpa said, softly, with a quiver +on his lip when she had finished. "I wish I'd knew it; I left my +granddarter there to be examined. Mabby I'll meet him going back, and +can ask him." + +"I tell you it won't be no use. Mr. Guy has no three hundred dollars +to throw away," was Mrs. Noah's rather sharp rejoinder. + +"Wall, wall, we won't quarrel about it," the old man replied, in his +most conciliatory manner, as he turned his head away to hide the +starting tear. + +Grandfather Markham's heart was very sore, and Mrs. Noah's harshness +troubled him. He could not bear to think that she really was cross +with him, besides that he wanted something to carry Maddy besides +disappointment, so by way of testing Mrs. Noah's amiability and +pleasing Maddy, too, he said, as he arose: "I'm an old man, lady, old +enough to be your father." Here Mrs. Noah's face grew brighter, and +she listened attentively while he continued: "You won't take what I +say amiss, I'm sure. I have a little girl at home, a grandchild, who +has heard big stories of the fine things at Aikenside. She has a +hankerin' after such vanities, and it would please her mightily to +have me tell her what I saw up here, so maybe you wouldn't mind +lettin' me go into that big room where the silk fixin's are. I'll take +off my shoes, if you say so." + +"Your shoes won't hurt an atom; come right along," Mrs. Noah replied, +now in the best of moods, for, except her cup of green tea with +raspberry jam and cream, she enjoyed nothing more than showing their +handsome house. + +Conducting him through the wide, marbled hall, she ushered him into +the drawing-room, where for a time he stood perfectly bewildered. It +was his first introduction to rosewood, velvet, and brocatelle, and it +seemed to him as if he had suddenly been transported to fairy-land. + +"Maddy would like this--it's her nature," he whispered, advancing a +step or two, and setting down his feet as softly as if stepping on +eggs. + +Happening to lift his eyes before one of the long mirrors, he spied +himself, wondering much what that "queer-looking chap" was doing there +in the midst of so much elegance, and why Mrs. Noah did not turn him +out! Then mentally asking forgiveness for this flash of pride, and +determined to make amends, he bowed low to the figure in the glass, +which bowed as low in return, but did not reply to the very good-natured +remark: "How d'ye do--pretty well, to-day?" + +There was a familiar look about the round cape of the camlet cloak, +and Grandpa Markham's face turned crimson as the truth burst upon him. + +"How 'shamed of me Maddy would be," he thought, glancing sidewise at +Mrs. Noah, who had witnessed the blunder, and was now looking from the +window to hide her laughter. + +Grandpa believed she did not see him, and comforted with that assurance, +he began to remark upon the mirror, saying "it made it appear as if +there was two of you," a remark which Mrs. Noah fully appreciated. He +saw the silk chairs, slyly touching one to see if it did feel like the +gored, peach-blossom dress worn by his wife forty-two years ago that +very spring. Then he tried one of them, examined the rare ornaments, and +came near bowing again to the portrait of the first Mrs. Remington, so +natural and lifelike it looked standing out from the canvas. + +"This will last Maddy a week. I thank you, ma'am. You have added some +considerable to the happiness of a young girl, who wouldn't disgrace +even such a room as this," he said, as he passed into the hall. + +Mrs. Noah received his thanks graciously, and led him to the yard, +where Sorrel stood waiting for him. + +"Odd, but clever as the day is long," was Mrs. Noah's comment, as, +after seeing him safe out of her yard, she went back to her vegetable +oysters boiling on the stove. + +Driving at a brisk trot through the grounds, Sorrel was soon out upon +the highway; and with spirits exhilarated by thoughts of going home, +he kept up the trot until, turning a sudden corner, his master saw the +carriage from Aikenside approaching at a rapid rate. The driver, Paul, +saw him too, but scorning to give half the road to such as Sorrel and +the square-boxed wagons, he kept steadily on, while Grandpa Markham, +determined to speak with Guy, reined his horse a little nearer, +raising his hand in token that the negro should stop. As a natural +consequence, the wheels of the two vehicles became interlocked, and as +the powerful grays were more than a match for Sorrel, the front wheel +of Grandpa Markham's wagon was wrenched off, and the old man +precipitated to the ground; which, fortunately for him, was in that +locality covered with sand banks, so that he was only stunned for an +instant, and thus failed to hear the insolent negro's remark: "Served +you right, old cove; might of turned out for gentlemen;" neither did +he see the sudden flashing of Guy Remington's eye, as, leaping from +his carriage, he seized the astonished African by the collar, and, +hurling him from the box, demanded what he meant by serving an old man +so shameful a trick and then insulting him. + +All apology and regret, the cringing driver tried to make some excuse, +but Guy stopped him short, telling him to see how much the wagon was +damaged, while he ran to the old man, who had recovered from the first +shock and was trying to extricate himself from the folds of his camlet +cloak. Nearby was a blacksmith's shop, and thither Guy ordered his +driver to take the broken-down wagon with a view to getting it +repaired. + +"Tell him I want it done at once." he said, authoritatively, as if he +well knew his name carried weight with it; then, turning to grandpa, +he asked again if he were hurt. + +"No, not specially--jolted my old bones some. You are very kind, sir," +grandpa replied, brushing the dust from his pantaloons and then +involuntarily grasping Guy's arm for support, as his weak knees began +to tremble from the effects of excitement and fright. + +"That darky shall rue this job," Guy said, savagely, as he gazed +pityingly upon the shaky old creature beside him. "I'll discharge him +to-morrow." + +"No, young man. Don't be rash. He'll never do't again; and sprigs like +him think they've a right to make fun of old codgers like me," was +grandpa's meek expostulation. + +"Do, pray, Guy, how long must we wait here?" Agnes asked, impatiently, +leaning back in the carriage and partially drawing her veil over her +face as she glanced at Grandpa Markham, but a look from Guy silenced +her; and turning again to grandpa, he asked: + +"What did you say? You have been to Aikenside to see me?" + +"Yes, and I was sorry to miss you. I--I--it makes me feel awkward to +tell you, but I wanted to borrow some money, and I didn't know nobody +as likely to have it as you. That woman up to your house said she +knowed you wouldn't let me have it, 'cause you hadn't it to spare. +Mebby you haven't," and grandpa waited anxiously for Guy's reply. + +Now, Mrs. Noah had a singular influence over her young master, who was +in the habit of consulting her with regard to his affairs, and nothing +could have been more unpropitious to the success of grandpa's suit +than the knowing she disapproved. Beside this, Guy had only the +previous week lost a small amount loaned under similar circumstances. +Standing silent for a moment, while he buried and reburied his shining +patent leather boots in the hills of sand, he said at last: "Candidly, +sir, I don't believe I can accommodate you. I am about to make repairs +at Aikenside, and have partially promised to loan money on good +security to a Mr. Silas Slocum, who, 'if things work right,' as he +expressed it, intends building a mill on some property which has come, +or is coming, into his hands." + +"That's mine--that's mine, my homestead," gasped grandpa, turning +white almost as his hair blowing in the April wind. "There's a stream +of water on it, and he says if he forecloses and gets it he shall +build a mill, and tear our old house down." + +Guy was in a dilemma. He had not asked how much Mr. Markham wanted, +and as the latter had not told him, he naturally concluded it a much +larger sum than it really was, and did not care just then to lend it. + +"I tell you what I'll do," he said, after a little. "I'll drop Slocum +a note to-night saying I've changed my mind, and shall not let him +have the money. Perhaps, then, he won't be so anxious to foreclose, +and will give you time to look among your friends." + +Guy laid a little emphasis on that last word, and looking up quickly +grandpa was about to say: "I am not so much a stranger as you think. I +knew your father well;" but he checked himself with the thought: "No, +that will be too much like begging pay for a deed of mercy done years +ago." So Guy never suspected that the old man before him had once laid +his sire under a debt of gratitude. The more he reflected the less +inclined he was to lend the money, and as grandpa was too timid to +urge his needs, the result was that when at last the wheel was +replaced, and Sorrel again trotting on toward Devonshire, he drew +after him a sad, heavy heart, and not once until the village was +reached did he hear the cheery chuckle with which his kind master was +wont to encourage him. + +"Poor Maddy! I dread tellin' her the most, she was so sure," grandpa +whispered, as he stopped before the office door, where Maddy waited +for him. + +But Maddy's disappointment was keener than his own, and so after the +sorrowful words, "and I failed, too," he bent himself to comfort the +poor child, who, leaning her throbbing head against his shoulder, +sobbed bitterly, as in the soft spring twilight they drove back to the +low red cottage where grandma waited for them. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +THE RESULT. + + +It was Farmer Green's new buggy and Farmer Green's bay colt which, +three days later than this, stopped before Dr. Holbrook's office. Not +the square-boxed wagon, with old Sorrel attached; the former was +standing quietly in the chip-yard behind the low red house, while the +latter with his nose over the barnyard fence, neighing occasionally, +as if he missed the little hands which had daily fed him the oatmeal +he liked so much, and which now lay hot and parched and helpless upon +the white counterpane Grandma Markham had spun and woven herself. +Maddy might have been just as sick as she was if the examination had +never occurred, but it was natural for those who loved her to impute +it all to the effects of excitement and cruel disappointment, so there +was something like indignation mingling with the sorrow gnawing at the +hearts of the old couple as they watched by their fever-stricken +darling. Farmer Green, too, shared the feeling, and numerous at first +were his mental animadversions against that "prig of a Holbrook." But +when Maddy grew so bad as not to know him or his wife, he laid aside +his prejudices, and suggested to Grandpa Markham that Dr. Holbrook be +sent for. + +"He's great on fevers," he said, "and is good on curin' sick folks," +so, though he would have preferred some one else should have been +called, confidence in the young doctor's skill won the day, and +grandpa consented. + +This, then, was the errand of Farmer Green, and with his usual +bluntness, he said to the recreant doctor, who chanced to be at home: + +"Wall, you nigh about killed our little Madge t'other day, when you +refused the stifficut, and now we want you to cure her." + +The doctor looked up in surprise, but Farmer Green soon explained his +meaning, making out a most aggravated case, and representing Maddy as +wild with delirium. + +"Keeps talkin' about the big books, the Latin and the Hebrew, and even +the Catechism, as if such like was 'lowed in our school. I s'pose you +didn't know no better; but if Maddy dies, you'll have it to answer +for, I reckon." + +The doctor did not try to excuse himself, but hastily took down the +medicines he thought he might need, and stowed them carefully away. He +had expected to hear from that examination, but not in this way, and +rather nervously he made some inquiries, as to how long she had been +ill, and so forth. + +Maddy's case lost nothing by Mr. Green's account, and by the time the +doctor's horse was ready, and he on his way to the cottage, he had +arrived at the conclusion that of all the villainous men outside the +walls of the State's prison, he was the most villainous, and Guy +Remington next. + +What a cozy little chamber it was where Maddy lay, just such a room as +a girl like her might be supposed to occupy, and the bachelor doctor +felt like treading upon forbidden ground as he entered the room so +rife with girlish habits, from the fairy slippers hung on a peg, to +the fanciful little workbox made of cones and acorns. Maddy was +asleep, and sitting down beside her, he asked that the shawl which had +been pinned across the window might be removed so that he could see +her, and thus judge better of her condition. They took the shawl away, +and the sunlight came streaming in, disclosing to the doctor's view +the face never before seen distinctly, or thought about, if seen. It +was ghastly pale, save where the hot blood seemed bursting through the +cheeks, while the beautiful brown hair was brushed back from the brow +where the veins were swollen and full. The lips were slightly apart, +and the hot breath came in quick, panting gasps, while occasionally a +faint moan escaped them, and once the doctor heard, or thought he +heard, the sound of his own name. One little dimpled hand lay upon the +bedspread, but the doctor did not touch it. Ordinarily he would have +grasped it as readily as if it had been a piece of marble, but the +sight of Maddy, lying there so sick, and the fearing he had helped to +bring her where she was, awoke to life a curious state of feeling with +regard to her, making him almost as nervous as on the day when she +appeared before him as candidate No. 1. + +"Feel her pulse, doctor; they are faster most than you can count," +Grandma Markham whispered; and thus entreated, the doctor took the +soft hand in his own, its touch sending through his frame a thrill +such as the touch of no other hand had ever sent. + +Somehow the act reassured him. All fear of Maddy vanished, leaving +behind only an intense desire to help, if possible, the young girl +whose fingers seemed to cling around his own as he felt for and found +the rapid pulse, + +"If she could awaken," he said, laying the hand softly down and +placing his other upon her forehead, where the great sweat drops lay. + +And, after a time, Maddy did awaken, but in the eyes fixed, for a +moment, so intently on him, there was no look of recognition, and the +doctor was half glad that it was so. He did not wish her to associate +him with her late disastrous disappointment; he would rather she +should think of him as some one come to cure her, for cure her he +would, he said to himself, as he gazed into her childish face and +thought how sad it was for such as she to die. When first he entered +the cottage he had been struck with the extreme plainness of the +furniture, betokening that wealth had not there an abiding place, but +now he forgot everything except the sick girl, who grew more and more +restless, talking of him and the Latin verb which meant "to love," she +said, and which was not in the grammar. + +"Guy was a fool and I was a brute," the doctor muttered, as he folded +up the bits of paper whose contents he hoped might do much toward +saving Maddy's life. + +Then, promising to come again, he rode rapidly away, to visit other +patients, who, that afternoon, were in danger of being sadly +neglected, so constantly was their young physician's mind dwelling +upon the little, low-walled chamber where Maddy Clyde was lying. As +night closed in she knew them all, and heard that Dr. Holbrook had +been there prescribing for her. Turning her face to the wall, she +seemed to be thinking; then, calling her grandmother to her, she +whispered: "Did he smooth my hair back and say, 'poor child?'" + +Her grandmother hardly thought he did, though she was not in the room +all the time, she said. "He had stayed a long while and was greatly +interested." + +Maddy had a vague remembrance of such an incident, and in her heart +forgave the doctor for his rejection, thinking only how handsome he +had looked, even while tormenting her with such unheard of questions, +and how kind he was to her now. The sight of her grandfather awakened +a new train of ideas, and bidding him to sit beside her, she asked if +their home must be sold. Maddy was not to be put off with an evasion, +and so grandpa told her honestly at last that Slocum would foreclose, +but not while she was sick; he had been seen that day by Mr. Green, +and had promised so much forbearance. + +This was the last rational conversation held with Maddy for many a +week, and when next morning the doctor came, there was a look of deep +anxiety upon his face as he watched the alarming symptoms of his +delirious patient, who talked incessantly, not of the examination now, +but of the mortgage and the foreclosure, begging the doctor to see +that the house was not sold, to tell them she was earning thirty-six +dollars by teaching school, that Beauty should be sold to save their +dear old home. All this was strange at first to the doctor, but the +rather voluble Mrs. Green, who had come to Grandma Markham's relief, +enlightened him, dwelling with a kind of malicious pleasure upon the +fact that Maddy's earnings, had she been permitted to get a +"stifficut," were to be appropriated toward paying the debt. + +If the doctor had hated himself the previous day when he from the red +cottage gate, he hated himself doubly now as he went dashing down the +road, determined to resign his office of school inspector that very +day. And he did. + +Summoning around him those who had been most active in electing him, +he refused to officiate again, assuring them that if any more +candidates came he should either turn them from his door or give them +a certificate without asking a question. + +"Put anybody you like in my place," he said; "anybody but Guy +Remington. Don't for thunder's sake take him." + +There was no probability of this, as Guy lived in another town, and +could not have officiated had he wished. But the doctor was too much +excited to reason upon anything save Madeline Clyde's case. That he +perfectly understood; and during the next few weeks his other patients +waited many times in vain for his coming, while he sat by Maddy's side +watching every change, whether for the worse or better. Even Agnes +Remington was totally neglected; and so one day she sent Guy down to +Devonshire to say that as Jessie seemed more than usually delicate, +she wished the doctor to take her under his charge and visit her at +least once a week. The doctor was not at home, but Tom said he +expected him every moment. So seating himself in the armchair, Guy +waited until he came. + +"Well, Hal," he began, jocosely, but the joking words he would have +uttered next died on his lips as he noticed the strange look of +excitement and anxiety on the doctor's face. "What is it?" he asked. +"Are all your patients dead?" + +"Guy," and the doctor came closely to him, whispering huskily, "you +and I are murderers in the first degree. Yes; and both deserve to be +hung. Do you remember that Madeline Clyde whom you insulted with your +logic and Latin verbs? She'd set her heart on that certificate. She +wanted the money, not for new gowns and fooleries mind, but to help +her old grandfather pay his debts. His place is mortgaged. I don't +understand it; but he asked some old hunks to lend him the money, and +the miserly rascal, whoever he was, refused. I wish I had it. I'd give +it to him out and out. But that's nothing to do with the girl--Maddy +they call her. The disappointment killed her, and she's dying--is +raving crazy--and keeps talking of that confounded examination. I tell +you, Guy, my inward parts get terribly mixed up when I hear her talk, +and my heart thumps like a trip-hammer. That's the reason I have not +been up to Aikenside. I wouldn't leave Maddy so long as there was +hope. I did not tell them this morning. I couldn't make that poor +couple feel worse than they are feeling; but when I looked at her, +tossing from side to side and picking at the bedclothes, I knew it +would soon be over--that when I saw her again the poor little arms +would be still enough and the bright eyes shut forever. Guy, I +couldn't see her die--I don't like to see anybody die, but her, Maddy, +of all others--and so I came away. If you stay long enough, you'll +hear the bell toll, I reckon. There is none at Honedale Church, which +they attend. They are Episcopalians, you see, and so they'll come up +here, maybe. I hope I shall be deafer than an adder." + +Here the doctor stopped, wholly out of breath, while Guy for a moment +sat without speaking a single word. Jessie, in his hearing, had told +her mother what the sick girl in the doctor's office had said about +being poor and wanting the money for grandpa, while Mrs. Noah had +given him a rather exaggerated account of Mr. Markham's visit; but he +had not associated the two together until now, when he saw the whole, +and almost as much as the doctor himself regretted the part he had had +in Maddy's illness and her grandfather's distress. + +"Doc," he said, laying his hand on the doctor's arm, "I am that old +hunks, the miserly rascal who refused the money. I met the old man +going home that day, and he asked me for help. You say the place must +be sold. It never shall, never. I'll see to that, and you must save +the girl." + +"I can't, Guy. I've done all I can, and now, if she lives, it will be +wholly owing to the prayers that old saint of a grandfather says for +her. I never thought much of these things until I heard him pray; not +that she should live anyway, but that if it were right Maddy might not +die. Guy, there's something in such a prayer as that. It's more +powerful than all my medicine swallowed at one grand gulp." + +Guy didn't know very much about praying then, and so he did not +respond, but he thought of Lucy Atherstone, whose life was one hymn of +prayer and praise, and he wished she could know of Maddy, and join her +petitions with those of the grandfather. Starting suddenly from his +chair, he exclaimed, "I'm going down there. It will look queerly, too, +to go alone. Ah, I have it! I'll drive back to Aikenside for Jessie, +who has talked so much of the girl that her lady mother, forgetting +that she was once a teacher, is disgusted. Yes, I'll take Jessie with +me, but you must order it; you must say it is good for her to ride, +and, Hal, give me some medicine for her, just to quiet Agnes, no +matter what, provided it's not strychnine." + +Contrary to Guy's expectations, Agnes did not refuse to let Jessie go +for a ride, particularly as she had no suspicion where he intended +taking her, and the little girl was soon seated by her brother's side, +chatting merrily of the different things they passed upon the road. +But when Guy told her where they were going, and why they were going +there, the tears came at once into her eyes, and hiding her face in +Guy's lap she sobbed bitterly. + +"I did like her so much that day," she said, "and she looked so sorry, +too. It's terrible to die!" + +Then she plied Guy with questions concerning Maddy's probable future. +"Would she go to heaven, sure?" and When Guy answered at random, +"Yes," she asked, "How did he know? Had he heard that Maddy was that +kind of good which lets folks in heaven? Because, Brother Guy," and +the little preacher nestled closely to the young man, fingering his +coat buttons as she talked, "because, Brother Guy, folks can be good-- +that is, not do naughty things--and still God won't love them unless +they--I don't know what, I wish I did." + +Guy drew her nearer to him, but to that childish yearning for +knowledge he could not respond, so he said: + +"Who taught you all this, little one?--not your mother, surely." + +"No, not mamma, but Miriam, the waiting-maid we left in Boston. She +told me about it, and taught me to pray different from mamma. Do you +pray, Brother Guy?" + +The question startled the young man, who was glad his coachman spoke +to him just then, asking if he should drive through Devonshire +village, or go direct to Honedale by a shorter route. + +They would go to the village, Guy said, hoping that thus the doctor +might be persuaded to accompany them. This diverted Jessie's mind, and +she said no more of praying; but the first tiny grain was sown, the +mustard seed, which should hereafter spring up into a mighty tree, the +indirect result of Maddy's disappointment and almost fatal illness. +They found the doctor at home and willing to go with them. Indeed, so +impatient had he become listening for the first stroke of the bell +which was to herald the death he deemed so sure, that he was on the +point of mounting his horse and galloping off alone, when Guy's +invitation came. It was five miles from Devonshire to Honedale, and +when they reached a hill which lay halfway between, they stopped for a +few moments to rest the tired horses. Suddenly, as they sat waiting, a +sharp, ringing sound fell on their ears, and grasping Guy's knee, the +doctor said, "I told you so; Madeline Clyde is dead." + +It was the village bell, and its twice three strokes betokened that it +tolled for somebody youthful, somebody young, like Maddy Clyde. Jessie +wept silently, but there were no tears in the eyes of the young men, +as with beating hearts they sat listening to the slow, solemn sounds +which came echoing up the hill. There was a pause; the sexton's +dirgelike task was done, and now it only remained for him to strike +the age, and tell how many years the departed one had numbered. + +"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten;" Jessie +counted it aloud, while every stroke fell like a heavy blow upon the +hearts of the young men, who a few weeks ago, knew not that such as +Maddy Clyde had ever had existence. + +How long it seemed before another stroke, and Guy was beginning to +hope they'd heard the last, when again the dull, muffled sound came +floating on the air, and Dr. Holbrook's black, bearded lip half +quivered as he now counted aloud, "one, two, three, four, five." + +That was all; there it stopped; and vain were all their listenings to +catch another note. Fifteen years, and only fifteen had passed over +the form now forever still. + +"She was fifteen," Guy whispered, remembering distinctly to have heard +that number from Maddy herself. + +"I thought they told me fourteen, but of course it's she," the doctor +rejoined. "Poor child, I would have given much to have saved her." + +Jessie did not talk; only once, when she asked Guy, if it was very far +to heaven, and if he supposed Maddy had got there by this time. + +"We'll go just the same," said Guy. "I will do what I can for the old +man;" and so the carriage drove on, down the hill, across the +meadow-land, and past a low-roofed house whose walls inclosed the +stiffened form of him for whom the bell had tolled, the boy, fifteen +years of age, who had been the patient of another than Dr. Holbrook. + +Maddy was not dead, but the paroxysm of restlessness had passed, and +she lay now in a heavy sleep so nearly resembling death that they who +watched, waited expectantly to see the going out of her last breath. +Never before had a carriage like that from Aikenside stopped at that +humble cottage, but the neighbors thought it came merely to bring the +doctor, whom they welcomed with a glad smile, making a way for him to +pass to Maddy's bedside. Guy preferred waiting in the carriage until +such time as Grandpa Markham could speak with him, but Jessie went +with the doctor into the sick room, startling even the grandmother, +and causing her to wonder who the richly-dressed child could be. + +"Dying, doctor," said one of the women, affirmatively, not +interrogatively; but the doctor shook his head, and holding in one +hand his watch he counted the faint pulse beats as with his eye he +measured off the minute. + +"There are too many here," he said. "She needs the air you are +breathing," and in his singular, authoritative way, he cleared the +crowded room of the mistaken friends who were unwittingly breathing up +Maddy's very life. + +All but the grandparents and Jessie; these he suffered to remain, and +sitting down by Maddy, watched till the long sleep was ended. Silently +and earnestly the aged couple prayed for their darling, asking that if +possible she might be spared, and God heard their prayers, lifting, at +last, the heavy fog from Maddy's brain, and waking her to life and +partial consciousness. It was Jessie who first caught the expression +of the opening eyes, and darting forward, she exclaimed, "She's waked +up, Dr. Holbrook. She will live." + +Wonderingly Maddy looked at her, and then as a confused recollection +of where they had met before crossed her mind, she smiled faintly, and +said: + +"Where am I now? Have I never come home, and is this Dr. Holbrook's +office?" + +"No, no; it's home, your home, and you are getting well," Jessie +cried, bending over the bewildered girl. "Dr. Holbrook has cured you, +and Guy is here, and I, and--" + +"Hush, you disturb her," the doctor said, gently pulling Jessie away, +and himself asking Maddy how she felt. + +She did not recognize him. She only had a vague idea that he might be +some doctor, but not Dr. Holbrook, sure; not the one who had so +puzzled and tortured her on a day which seemed now so far behind. From +the white-haired man kneeling by the bedside there was a burst of +thanksgiving for the life restored, and then Grandpa Markham tottered +from the room, out into the open air, which had never fallen so +refreshingly on his tried frame as it fell now, when he first knew +that Maddy would live. He did not care for his homestead; that might +go, and he still be happy with Maddy left. But He who had marked that +true disciple's every sigh, had another good in store, willing it so +that both should come together, even as the two disappointments had +come hand in hand. + +From the soft cushions of his carriage, where he sat reclining, Guy +Remington saw the old man as he came out, and alighting at once, he +accosted him pleasantly, and then walked with him to the garden, +where, on a rustic bench, built for Maddy beneath the cherry trees, +Grandpa Markham sat down to rest. From speaking of Madeline it was +easy to go back to the day when Guy had first met grandpa, whose +application for money he had refused. + +"I have thought better of it since," he said, "and am sorry I did not +accede to your proposal. One object of my coming here to-day was to +say that my purse is at your disposal. You can have as much as you +wish, paying me whenever you like, and the house shall not be sold. +Slocum, I understand, holds the mortgage. I will see him to-morrow and +stop the whole proceeding." + +Guy spoke rapidly, determined to make a clean breast of it, but +grandpa understood him, and bowing his white head upon his bosom, the +big tears dropped like rain upon the turf, while his lips quivered, +first with thanks to the Providence who had truly done all things +well, and next with thanks to his benefactor. + +"Blessings on your head, young man, for making me so happy. You are +worthy of your father, and he was the best of men." + +"My father--did you know him?" Guy asked, in some surprise, and then +the story came out, how, years before, when a city hotel was on fire, +and one of its guests in imminent danger from the locality of his +room, and his own nervous fear which made him powerless to act, +another guest braved fearlessly the hissing flame, and scaling the +tottering wall, dragged out to life and liberty one who, until that +hour, was to him an utter stranger. + +Pushing back his snowy hair, Grandfather Markham showed upon his +temple a long, white scar, obtained the night when he periled his own +life to save that of another. There was a doubly warm pressure now of +the old man's hand, as Guy replied, "I've heard that story from father +himself, but the name of his preserver had escaped me. Why didn't you +tell me who you were?" + +"I thought 'twould look too much like demanding it as a right--too +much like begging, and I s'pose I felt too proud. Pride is my +besetting sin--the one I pray most against." + +Guy looked keenly now at the man whose besetting sin was pride, and as +he marked the cheapness of his attire, his pantaloons faded and short, +his coat worn threadbare and shabby, his shoes both patched at the +toes, his cotton shirt minus a bosom, and then thought of the humble +cottage, with its few rocky acres, he wondered of what he could be +proud. + +Meantime, for Maddy, Dr. Holbrook had prescribed perfect quiet, +bidding them darken again the window from which the shade had been +removed, and ordering all save the grandmother to leave the room and +let the patient sleep, if possible. Even Jessie was not permitted to +stay, though Maddy clung to her as to a dear friend. In a few +whispered words Jessie had told her name, saying she came from +Aikenside, and that her Brother Guy was there, too, outdoors, in the +carriage. "He heard how sick you were at Devonshire, this morning, and +drove right home for me to come to see you. I told him of you that day +in the office, and that's why he brought me, I guess. You'll like Guy. +I know all the girls do--he's so good." + +Sick and weary as she was, and unable as yet to comprehend the entire +meaning of all she heard, Maddy was conscious of a thrill of pride in +knowing that Guy Remington, from Aikenside, was interested in her, and +had brought his sister to see her. Winding her feeble arms around +Jessie's neck, she kissed the soft, warm cheek, and said, "You'll come +again, I hope." + +"Yes, every day, if mamma will let me. I don't mind it a bit, if you +are poor." + +"Tut, tut, little tattler!" and Dr. Holbrook, who, unseen by the +children, had all the while been standing near, took Jessie by the +arm. "What makes you think them poor?" + +In the closely-shaded room Maddy could see nothing distinctly, but she +heard Jessie's reply: "Because the plastering comes down so low, and +Maddy's pillows are so teenty, not much bigger than my dolly's. But I +love her; don't you doctor?" + +Through the darkness the doctor caught the sudden flash of Maddy's +eyes, and something impelled him to lay his cool, broad hand on her +forehead, as he replied, "I love all my patients;" then, taking +Jessie's arm, he led her out to where Guy was waiting for her. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +CONVALESCENCE. + + +Had it not been for the presence of Dr. Holbrook, who, accepting Guy's +invitation to tea, rode back with him to Aikenside, Mrs. Agnes would +have gone off into a passion when told that Jessie had been "exposed +to fever and mercy knows what." + +"There's no telling what one will catch among the very poor," she said +to Dr. Holbrook, as she clasped and unclasped the heavy gold bracelets +flashing on her white, round arm. + +"I'll be answerable for any disease Jessie caught at Mr. Markham's," +the doctor replied. + +"At Mr. Who's? What did you call him?" Agnes asked, the bright color +on her cheek fading as the doctor replied: + +"Markham--an old man who lives in Honedale. You never knew him, of +course." + +Involuntarily Agnes glanced at Guy, in whose eye there was, as she +fancied, a peculiar expression. Could it be he knew the secret she +guarded so carefully? Impossible, she said to herself; but still the +white fingers trembled as she handled the china and silver, and for +once she was glad when the doctor took his leave, and she was alone +with Jessie. + +"What was that girl's name?" she asked, "the one you went to see?" + +"Maddy, mother--Madeline Clyde. She's so pretty. I'm going to see her +again. May I?" + +Agnes did not reply directly, but continued to question the child with +regard to the cottage which Jessie thought so funny, slanting away +back, she said, so that the roof on one side almost touched the +ground. The window panes, too, were so very tiny, and the room where +Maddy lay sick was small and low. + +"Yes, yes, I know," Agnes said at last, impatiently, weary of hearing +of the cottage whose humble exterior and interior she knew so much +better than Jessie herself. + +But this was not to be divulged; for surely the haughty Agnes +Remington, who, in Boston, aspired to lead in society into which, as +the wife of Dr. Remington, she had been admitted, and who, in +Aikenside, was looked upon with envy, could have nothing in common +with the red cottage or its inmates. So when Jessie asked again if she +could not visit Maddy on the morrow, she answered decidedly: "No, +daughter, no. I do not wish you to associate with such people," and +when Jessie insisted on knowing why she must not associate with such +people as Maddy Clyde, the answer was: "Because you are a Remington," +and as if this of itself were of an unanswerable objection, Agnes sent +her child from her, refusing to talk longer on a subject so +disagreeable to her and so suggestive of the past. It was all in vain +that Jessie, and even Guy himself, tried to revoke the decision. +Jessie should not be permitted to come in contact with that kind of +people, she said, or incur the risk of catching that dreadful fever. + +So day after day, while life and health were slowly throbbing through +her veins, Maddy waited and longed for the little girl whose one visit +to her sick room seemed so much like a dream. From her grandfather she +had heard the good news of Guy Remington's generosity, and that, quite +as much as Dr. Holbrook's medicines, helped to bring the color back to +the pallid cheek and the brightness to her eyes. + +She was asleep the first time the doctor came after the occasion of +Jessie's visit, and as sleep, be said, would do her more good than +anything he might prescribe, he did not awaken her; but for a long +time, as it seemed to Grandma Markham, who stood very little in awe of +the Boston doctor, he watched her as she slept, now clasping the +blue-veined wrist as he felt for the pulse, and now wiping from her +forehead the drops of sweat, or pushing back her soft, damp hair. It +would be three days before he could see her again, for a sick father +in Cambridge needed his attention, and after numerous directions as to +the administering of sundry powders and pills, he left her, feeling +that the next three days would be long ones to him. Dr. Holbrook did +not stop to analyze the nature of his interest in Maddy Clyde--an +interest so different from any he had ever felt before for his +patients; and even if he had sought to solve the riddle, he would have +said that the knowing how he had wronged her was the sole cause of his +thinking far more of her and of her case than of the thirty other +patients on his list. Dr. Holbrook was a handsome man, a thorough +scholar, and a most skillful physician; but ladies who expected from +him those little polite attentions which the sex value so highly +generally expected in vain, for he was no ladies' man, and his +language and manners were oftentimes abrupt, even when both were +prompted by the utmost kindness of heart. In his organization, too, +there was not a quick perception of what would be exactly appropriate, +and so, when, at last, he was about starting to visit Maddy again, he +puzzled his brains until they fairly ached with wondering what he +could do to give her a pleasant surprise and show that he was not as +formidable a personage as her past experience might lead her to think. + +"If I could only take her something," he said, glancing ruefully +around his office. "Now, if she were Jessie, nuts and raisins might +answer--but she must not eat such trash as that," and he set himself +to think again, just as Guy Remington rode up, bearing in his hand a +most exquisite bouquet, whose fragrance filled the medicine-odored +office at once, and whose beauty elicited an exclamation of delight +even from the matter-of-fact Dr. Holbrook. + +"I thought you might be going down to Honedale, as I knew you returned +last night, so I brought these flowers for your patient with my +compliments, or if you prefer I give them to you, and you can thus +present them as if coming from yourself." + +"As if I would do that," the doctor answered, taking the bouquet in +his hand the better to examine and admire it. "Did you arrange it, or +your gardener?" he asked, and when Guy replied that the merit of +arrangement, if merit there were, belonged to himself, he began to +deprecate his own awkwardness and want of tact. "Here I have been +cudgeling my head this half hour trying to think what I could take her +as a peace offering, and could think of nothing, while you--Well, you +and I are different entirely. You know just what is proper--just what +to say, and when to say it--while I am a perfect bore, and without +doubt shall make some ludicrous blunder in delivering the flowers. +To-day will be the first time really that we meet, as she was sleeping +when I was there last, while on all other occasions she has paid no +attention whatever to me." + +For a moment Guy regarded his friend attentively, noticing now that +extra care had been bestowed upon his toilet, that the collar was +fresh from the laundry, and the new cravat tied in a most +unexceptionable manner, instead of being twisted into a hard knot, +with the ends looking as if they had been chewed. + +"Doc," he said, when his survey was completed, "how old are you-- +twenty-five or twenty-six?" + +"Twenty-five--just your age--why?" and the doctor looked with an +expression so wholly innocent of Guy's real meaning that the latter, +instead of telling why, replied: + +"Oh! nothing; only I was wondering if you would do to be my father. +Agnes, I verily believe, is more than half in love with you; but, on +the whole, I would not like to be your son; so I guess you'd better +take some one younger--say Jessie. You are only eighteen years her +senior." + +The doctor stared at him amazed, and when he had finished said with +the utmost candor: "What has that to do with Madeline? I thought we +were talking of her." "Innocent as the newly-born babe," was Guy's +mental comment, as he congratulated himself on his larger and more +varied experience. + +And truly Dr, Holbrook was as simple-hearted as a child, never +dreaming of Guy's meaning, or that any emotion save a perfectly proper +one had a lodgment in his breast as he drove down to Honedale, +guarding carefully Guy's bouquet, and wishing he knew just what he +ought to say when he presented it. + +Maddy had gained rapidly the last three days. Good nursing and the +doctor's medicines were working miracles, and on the morning when the +doctor, with Guy's bouquet, was riding rapidly toward Honedale, she +was feeling so much better that in view of his coming she asked if she +could not be permitted to receive him sitting in the rocking-chair, +instead of lying there in bed, and when this plan was vetoed as +utterly impossible, she asked, anxiously: + +"And must I see him in this nightgown? Can't I have on my pink gingham +wrapper?" + +Hitherto Maddy had been too sick to care at all about her personal +appearance, but it was different now. She did care, and thoughts of +meeting again the handsome, stylish-looking man who had asked her to +conjugate _amo_ and whom she fully believed to be Dr. Holbrook, +made her rather nervous. Dim remembrances she had of some one gliding +in and out, and when the pain and noise in her head was at its +highest, a hand, large, and, oh! so cool had been laid upon her +temples, quieting their throbbings and making the blood course less +madly through the swollen veins. They had told her how kind, how +attentive he had been, and to herself she had said: "He's sorry about +that certificate. He wishes to show me that he did not mean to be +unkind. Yes; I forgive him: for I really was very stupid that +afternoon." + +And so, in a most forgiving frame of mind, Maddy submitted to the +snowy robe which grandma brought in place of the coveted gingham +wrapper, and which became her well, with its daintily-crimped ruffles +about the neck and wrists. Those wrists and hands! How white and small +they had grown! and Maddy sighed, as her grandmother buttoned together +the wristbands, to see how loose it was. + +"I have been very sick," she said. "Are my cheeks as thin as my arms?" + +They were not, though they had lost some of their symmetrical +roundness. Still there was much of childish beauty in the young, eager +face, and the hair had lost comparatively none of its glossy +brightness. + +"That's him," grandma said, as the sound of a horse's gallop was +heard, and in a moment the doctor reined up before the gate. + +From Mrs. Markham, who met him in the door, he learned how much better +she was; also how "she has been reckoning on this visit, making +herself all a-sweat about it." + +Suddenly the doctor felt returning all his old dread of Maddy Clyde. +Why should she wrong herself into a sweat? What was there in that +visit different from any other? Nothing, he said to himself, nothing; +and yet he, too, had been more anxious about it than any he had ever +paid. Depositing his hat and gloves upon the table, he followed Mrs. +Markham up the stairs, vaguely conscious of wishing she would stay +down, and very conscious of feeling glad; when just at Maddy's door +and opposite a little window, she espied the hens busily engaged in +devouring the yeast cakes, with which she had taken so much pains, and +which she had placed in the hot sun to dry. Finding that they paid no +heed to her loud "Shoo, shoos," she started herself to drive them +away, telling the doctor to go right on and to help himself. + +The perspiration was standing under Maddy's hair by this time, and +when the doctor stepped across the threshold, and she knew he really +was coming near her, it oozed out upon her forehead in big, round +drops, while her cheeks glowed with a feverish heat. Thinking he +should get along with it better if he treated her just as he would +Jessie, the doctor confronted her at once, and asked: + +"How is my little patient to-day?" + +A faint scream broke from Maddy's lips, and she involuntarily raised +her hands to thrust the stranger away. This black-eyed, black-haired, +thick-set man was not Dr. Holbrook, for he was taller, and more +slight, while she had not been deceived in the dark brown eyes which, +even while they seemed to be mocking her, had worn a strange +fascination for the maiden of fourteen and a half. The doctor fancied +her delirious again, and this reassured him at once. Dropping the +bouquet upon the bed, he clasped one of her hands in his, and without +the slightest idea that she comprehended him, said, soothingly: + +"Poor child, are you afraid of me--the doctor, Dr. Holbrook?" Maddy +did not try to withdraw her hand, but raising her eyes, swimming in +tears, to his face, she stammered out: + +"What does it mean, and where is he--the one who--asked me--those +dreadful questions? I thought that was Dr. Holbrook." + +Here was a dilemma--something for which the doctor was not prepared, +and with a feeling that he would not betray Guy, he said: + +"No; that was some one else--a friend of mine--but I was there in the +back office. Don't you remember me? Please don't grow excited. Compose +yourself, and I will explain all by and by. This is wrong. 'Twill +never do," and talking thus rapidly he wiped away the sweat, about +which grandma had told him. + +Maddy was disappointed, and it took her some time to rally +sufficiently to convince the doctor that she was not flighty, as he +termed it; but composing herself at last, she answered all his +questions, and then, as he saw her eyes wandering toward the bouquet, +he suddenly remembered that it was not yet presented, and placing it +in her hands, he said: + +"You like flowers, I know, and these are for you. I----" + +"Oh! thank you, thank you, doctor; I am so glad. I love them so much, +and you are so kind. What made you think to bring them? I've wanted +flowers so badly; but I could not have them, because I was sick and +did not work in the garden. It was so good in you," and in her delight +Maddy's tears dropped upon the fair blossoms. + +For a moment the doctor was sorely tempted to keep the credit thus +enthusiastically given; but he was too truthful for that, and so +watching her as her eyes glistened with pleased excitement, he said: + +"I am glad you like them, Miss Clyde, and so will Mr. Remington be. He +sent them to you from his conservatory." + +"Not Mr. Remington from Aikenside--not Jessie's brother?" and Maddy's +eyes now fairly danced as they sought the doctor's face. + +"Yes Jessie's brother. He came here with her. He is interested in you, +and brought these down this morning." + +"It was Jessie, I guess, who sent them," Maddy suggested, but the +doctor persisted that it was Guy. + +"He wished me to present them with his compliments. He thought they +might please you." + +"Oh! they do, they do!" Maddy replied. "They almost make me well. Tell +him how much I thank him, and like him too, though I never saw him." + +The doctor opened his lips to tell her she had seen him, but changed +his mind ere the words were uttered. She might not think as well of +Guy, he thought, and there was no harm in keeping it back. + +So Maddy had no suspicion that the face she thought of so much +belonged to Guy Remington. She had never seen him, of course; but she +hoped she would some time, so as to thank him for his generosity to +her grandfather and his kindness to herself. Then, as she remembered +the message she had sent him, she began to think that it sounded too +familiar, and said to the doctor: + +"If you please, don't tell Mr. Remington that I said I liked him--only +that I thank him. He would think it queer for a poor girl like me to +send such word to him. He is very rich, and handsome, and splendid, +isn't he?" + +"Yes, Guy's rich and handsome, and everybody likes him. We were in +college together." + +"You were?" Maddy exclaimed. "Then you know him well, and Jessie, and +you've been to Aikenside often? There's nothing in the world I want so +much as to go to Aikenside. They say it is so beautiful." + +"Maybe I'll carry you up there some day when you are strong enough to +ride," the doctor answered, thinking of his light buggy at home, and +wondering he had not used it more, instead of always riding on +horseback. + +Dr. Holbrook looked much older than he was, and to Maddy he seemed +quite fatherly, so that the idea of riding with him, aside from the +honor it might be to her, struck her much as riding with Farmer Green +would have done. The doctor, too, imagined that his proposition was +prompted solely from disinterested motives, but he found himself +wondering how long it would be before Maddy would be able to ride a +little distance, just over the hill and back. He was tiring her all +out talking to her; but somehow it was very delightful there in that +sick room, with the summer sunshine stealing through the window and +falling upon the soft reddish-brown head resting on the pillows. Once +he fixed those pillows, arranging them so nicely that grandma, who had +come in from her hens and yeast cakes, declared "he was as handy as a +woman," and after receiving a few general directions with regard to +the future, "guessed, if he wasn't in a hurry, she'd leave him with +Maddy a spell, as there were a few chores she must do." + +The doctor knew that at least a dozen individuals were waiting for him +that moment; but still he was in no hurry, he said, and so for half an +hour longer he sat there talking of Guy, and Jessie, and Aikenside, +and wondering he had never before observed how very becoming a white +wrapper was to sick girls like Maddy Clyde. Had he been asked the +question, he could not have told whether his other patients were +habited in buff, or brown, or tan color; but he knew all about Maddy's +garb, and thought the dainty frill around her slender throat the +prettiest "puckered piece" that he had ever seen. How, then, was Dr. +Holbrook losing his heart to that little girl of fourteen and a half? +He did not think so. Indeed, he did not think anything about his +heart, though thoughts of Maddy Clyde were pretty constantly with him, +as after leaving her he paid his round of visits. + +The Aikenside carriage was standing at Mrs. Conner's gate when he +returned, and Jessie came running out to meet him, followed by Guy, +while Agnes, in the most becoming riding habit, sat by the window +looking as unconcerned at his arrival as if it were not the very event +for which she had been impatiently waiting, Jessie was a great pet +with the doctor, and, lifting her lightly in his arms, he kissed her +forehead where the golden curls were clustering and said to her: + +"I have seen Maddy Clyde. She asked for you, and why you do not come +to see her, as you promised." + +"Mother won't let me," Jessie answered. "She says they are not fit +associates for a Remington." + +There was a sudden flash of contempt on the doctor's face, and a gleam +of wrath in Agnes' eyes as she motioned Jessie to be silent, and then +gracefully received the doctor, who by this time was in the room. As +if determined to monopolize the conversation, and keep it from turning +on the Markhams, Agnes rattled on for nearly fifteen minutes, scarcely +allowing Guy a chance for uttering a word. But Guy bided his time, and +seized the first favorable opportunity to inquire after Madeline. + +She was improving rapidly, the doctor said, adding: "You ought to have +seen her delight when I gave her your bouquet." + +"Indeed," and Agnes bridled haughtily; "I did not know that Guy was in +the habit of sending bouquets to such as this Clyde girl. I really +must report him to Miss Atherstone." + +Guy's seat was very near to Agnes, and while a cloud overspread his +fine features, he said to her in an aside: + +"Please say in your report that the worst thing about this Clyde girl +is that she aspires to be a teacher, and possibly a governess." + +There was an emphasis on the last word which silenced Agnes and set +her to beating her French gaiter on the carpet; while Guy, turning +back to the doctor, replied to his remark: + +"She was pleased, then?" + +"Yes; she must be vastly fond of flowers, though I sometimes fancied +the fact of being noticed by you afforded almost as much satisfaction +as the bouquet itself. She evidently regards you as a superior being, +and Aikenside as a second Paradise, and asking innumerable questions +about you and Jessie, too." + +"Did she honor me with an inquiry?" Agnes asked, her tone indicative +of sarcasm, though she was greatly interested as well as relieved by +the reply: + +"Yes; she said she heard that Jessie's mother was a beautiful woman, +and asked if you were not born in England." + +"She's mixed me up with Lucy. Guy, you must go down and enlighten +her," Agnes said, laughing merrily and appearing more at ease than she +had before since Maddy Clyde had been the subject of conversation. + +Guy did not go down to Honedale--but fruit and flowers, and once a +bottle of rare old wine, found their way to the old red cottage, +always brought by Guy's man, Duncan, and always accompanied with Mr. +Remington's compliments. Once, hidden among the rosebuds, was a +childish note from Jessie, some of it printed and some in the uneven +hand of a child just commencing to write. + +It was as follows: + +"DEAD MADDY: I think that is such a pretty name, and so does Guy, and +so does the doctor, too. I want to come see you, but mamma won't let +me. I think of you ever so much, and so does Guy, I guess, for he +sends you lots of things. Guy is a nice brother, and is most as old as +mamma. Ain't that funny? You know my first ma is dead. The doctor +tells us about you when he comes to Aikenside. I wish he'd come +oftener, for I love him a bushel--don't you? Yours respectfully, + +"JESSIE AGNES REMINGTON. + +"P. S.--I am going to tuck this in just for fun, right among the buds, +where you must look for it." + +This note Maddy read and reread until she knew it by heart, +particularly the part relating to Guy. Hitherto she had not +particularly liked her name, greatly preferring that it should have +been Eliza Ann, or Sarah Jane; but the knowing that Guy Remington +fancied it made a vast difference, and did much toward reconciling +her. She did not even see the clause, "and the doctor, too." His +attentions and concern she took as a matter of course, so quietly and +so constantly had they been given. The day was very long now which did +not bring him to the cottage; but she missed him much as she would +have missed her brother, if she had had one, though her pulse always +quickened and her cheeks glowed when she heard him at the gate. The +inner power did not lie deeper than a great friendliness for one who +had been instrumental in saving her life. They had talked over the +matter of her examination, the doctor blaming himself more than was +necessary for his ignorance as to what was required of a teacher; but +when she asked who was his proxy, he had again answered, evasively: "A +friend from Boston." + +And this he did to shield Guy, whom he knew was enshrined in the +little maiden's heart as a paragon of all excellence. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE DRIVE. + + +Latterly the doctor had taken to driving in his buggy, and when Maddy +was strong enough he took her with him one day, himself adjusting the +shawl which grandma wrapped around her, and pulling a little farther +on the white sunbonnet which shaded the sweet, pale face, where the +roses were just beginning to bloom again. The doctor was very happy +that morning, and so, too, was Maddy, talking to him upon the theme of +which she never tired, Guy Remington, Jessie and Aikenside. Was it as +beautiful a place as she had heard it was, and didn't he think it +would be delightful to live there? + +"I suppose Mr. Guy will be bringing a wife there some day when he +finds one," and leaning back in the buggy Maddy heaved a little sigh, +not at thoughts of Guy Remington's wife, but because she began to feel +tired, and thus gave vent to her weariness. + +The doctor, however, did not so construe it. He heard the sigh, and +for the first time when listening to her as she talked of Guy, a keen +throb of pain shot through his heart, a something as near akin to +jealousy as it was possible for him then to feel. But all unused as he +was to the workings of love he did not at that moment dream of such an +emotion in connection with Madeline Clyde. He only knew that something +affected him unpleasantly, prompting him, for some reason, to tell +Maddy Clyde about Lucy Atherstone, who, in all probability, would one +day come to Aikenside as its mistress. + +"Yes, Guy will undoubtedly marry," he began, just as over the top of +the easy hill they were ascending horses' heads were visible, and the +Aikenside carriage appeared in view. "There he is now," he exclaimed, +adding quickly: "No, I am mistaken, there's only a lady inside. It +must be Agnes." + +It was Agnes driving out alone, for the sole purpose of passing a +place which had a singular attraction for her, the old, red cottage in +Honedale. She recognized the doctor, and guessed whom he had with him, +Putting up her glass, for which she had no more need than Jessie, she +scrutinized the little figure bundled up in shawls, while she smiled +her sweetest smile upon the doctor, showing to good advantage her +white teeth, and shaking back her wealth of curls with the air and +manner of a young coquettish girl. + +"Oh, what a handsome lady! Who is she?" Maddy asked, turning to look +after the carriage now swiftly descending the hill. + +"That was Jessie's mother, Mrs. Agnes Remington," the doctor replied. +"She'll feel flattered with your compliment." + +"I did not mean to flatter. I said what I thought. She is handsome, +beautiful, and so young, too. Was that a gold bracelet which flashed +so on her arm?" + +The doctor presumed it was, though he had not noticed. Gold bracelets +were not new to him as they were to Maddy, who continued: + +"I wonder if I'll ever wear a bracelet like that?" + +"Would you like to?" the doctor asked, glancing at the small white +wrist, around which the dark calico sleeve was closely buttoned, and +thinking how much prettier and modest-looking it was than Agnes' +half-bare arms, where the ornaments were flashing. + +"Y-e-s," came hesitatingly from Maddy, who had a strong passion for +jewelry. "I guess I would, though grandpa classes all such things with +the pomps and vanities which I must renounce when I get to be good." + +"And when will that be?" the doctor asked. + +Again Maddy sighed, as she replied: "I cannot tell. I thought so much +about it while I was sick, that is, when I could think; but now I'm +better, it goes away from me some. I know it is wrong, but I cannot +help it. I've seen only a bit of pomp and vanity, but I must say that +I like what I have seen, and I wish to see more. It's very wicked, I +know," she kept on, as she met the queer expression of the doctor's +face;" and I know you think me so bad. You are good--a Christian, I +suppose?" + +There was a strange light in the doctor's eye as he answered, half +sadly: "No, Maddy, I am not what you call a Christian, I have not +renounced the pomps and vanities yet." + +"Oh, I'm so sorry," and Maddy's eyes expressed all the sorrow she +professed to feel. "You ought to be, now you've got so old." + +The doctor colored crimson, and stopping his horse under the dim +shadow of a maple in a little hollow, he said: + +"I'm not so very old, Maddy; only twenty-five--only ten years older +than yourself; and Agnes' husband was more than twenty years her +senior." + +The doctor did not know why he dragged that last in, when it had +nothing whatever to do with their conversation; but as the most +trivial thing often leads to great results, so far from the pang +caused by Maddy's thinking him so old, was born the first real +consciousness he had ever had that the little girl beside him was very +dear, and that the ten years difference between them might prove a +most impassable gulf. With this feeling, it was exceedingly painful +for him to hear Maddy's sudden exclamation: + +"Oh, oh! over twenty years--that's dreadful. She must be most glad +he's dead. I would not marry a man more than five years older than I +am." + +"Not if you loved him, and he loved you very, very dearly?" the doctor +asked, his voice low and tender in its tone. + +Wholly unsuspicious of the wild storm beating in his heart, Maddy +untied her white sunbonnet, and, taking it in her lap, smoothed back +her soft hair, saying, with a long breath: "Oh! I'm so hot," and then, +as just thinking of his question, replied: "I shouldn't love him--I +couldn't. Grandma is five years younger than grandpa, mother was five +years younger than father, Mrs. Green is five years younger than Mr. +Green, and, oh! ever so many. You are warm, too; ain't you?" and she +turned her innocent eyes full upon the doctor, who was wiping from his +lips the great drops of water, induced not so much by the heat as by +the apparent hopelessness of the love he now knew was growing in his +heart for Maddy Clyde. Recurring again to Agnes, Maddy said: "I wonder +why she married that old man? It is worse than if you were to marry +Jessie." + +"Money and position were the attractions, I imagine," the doctor said. +"Agnes was poor, and esteemed it a great honor to be made Mrs. +Remington." + +"Poor, was she?" Maddy rejoined. "Then maybe Mr. Guy will some day +marry a poor girl. Do you think he will?" + +Again Lucy Atherstone trembled on the doctor's lips, but he did not +speak of her--it was preposterous that Maddy should have any thoughts +of Guy Remington, who was quite as old as himself, besides being +engaged, and with this comforting assurance the doctor turned his +horse in the direction of the cottage, for Maddy was growing tired and +needed to be at home. + +"Perhaps you'll some time change your mind about people so much older, +and if you do you'll remember our talk this morning," he said, as he +drove up at last before the gate. + +Oh, yes! Maddy would never forget that morning or the nice ride they'd +had. She had enjoyed it so much, and she thanked him many times for +his kindness, as she stood waiting for him to drive away, feeling no +tremor whatever when at parting he took and held her hand, smoothing +it gently, and telling her it was growing fat and plump again. He was +a very nice doctor, much better than she had imagined, she thought, as +she went slowly to the house and entered the neat kitchen, where her +grandmother sat shelling peas for dinner, and her grandfather in his +leathern chair was whispering over his weekly paper. + +"Did you meet a grand lady in a carriage?" grandma asked, as Maddy sat +down beside her. + +"Yes; and Dr. Holbrook said it was Mrs. Remington, from Aikenside, Mr. +Guy's stepmother, and that she was more than twenty years younger than +her husband--isn't it dreadful? I thought so; but the doctor didn't +seem to," and in a perfectly artless manner Maddy repeated much of the +conversation which had passed between the doctor and herself, +appealing to her grandma to know if she had not taken the right side +of the argument. + +"Yes, child, you did," and grandma's hands lingered among the light +green peas in her pan, as if she were thinking of an entirely foreign +subject. "I knows nothing about this Mrs. Remington, only that she +stared a good deal at the house as she went by, even looking at us +through a glass, and lifting her spotted veil after she got by. She +may have been as happy as a queen with her man, but as a general thing +these unequal matches don't work, and had better not be thought on. +S'posin' you should think you was in love with somebody, and in a few +years, when you got older, be sick of him. It might do him a sight of +harm. That's what spoilt your poor Great-uncle Joseph, who's been in +the hospital at Worcester goin' on nine years." + +"It was!" and Maddy's face was all aglow with the interest she always +evinced whenever mention was made of the one great living sorrow of +her grandmother's life--the shattered intellect and isolation from the +world of her youngest brother, who, as she said, had for nearly nine +long years been an inmate of a madhouse. + +"Tell me about it," Maddy continued, bringing a pillow, and lying down +upon the faded lounge beneath the window. + +"There is no great to tell, only he was many years younger than I. +He's only forty-one now, and was thirteen years older than the girl he +wanted. Joseph was smart and handsome, and a lawyer, and folks said a +sight too good for the girl, whose folks were just nothing, but she +had a pretty face, and her long curls bewitched him. She couldn't have +been older than you when he first saw her, and she was only sixteen +when they got engaged. Joseph's life was bound up in her; he worshiped +the very air she breathed, and when she mittened him, it almost took +his life. He was too old for her, she said, and then right on top of +that we heard after a little that she married some big bug, I never +knew who, plenty old enough to be her father. That settled it with +Joseph; he went into a kind of melancholy, grew worse and worse, till +we put him in the hospital, usin' his little property to pay the bill +until it was all gone, and now he's on charity, you know, exceptin' +what we do. That's what 'tis about your Uncle Joseph, and I warn all +young girls of thirteen or fourteen not to think too much of nobody. +They are bound to get sick of 'em, and it makes dreadful work." + +Grandma had an object in telling this to Maddy, for she was not blind +to the nature of the doctor's interest in her child, and though it +gratified her pride, she felt that it must not be, both for his sake +and Maddy's, so she told the sad story of Uncle Joseph as a warning to +Maddy, who could scarcely be said to need it. Still it made an +impression on her, and all that afternoon she was thinking of the +unfortunate man, whom she had seen but once, and that in his prison +home, where she had been with her grandfather the only time she had +ever ridden in the cars. He had taken her in his arms then, she +remembered, and called her his little Sarah. That must have been the +name of his treacherous betrothed. She would ask if it were not so, +and she did. + +"Yes, Sarah Morris, that was her name, and her face was handsome as a +doll," grandma replied, and wondering if she were as beautiful as +Jessie, or Jessie's mother, Maddy went back to her reveries of the +poor maniac, whom Sarah Morris had wronged so cruelly. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +SHADOWINGS OF WHAT WAS TO BE. + + +It was very pleasant at Aikenside that afternoon, and the cool breeze +blowing from the miniature fish pond in one corner of the grounds, +came stealing into the handsome parlors, where Agnes Remington, in +tasteful toilet, reclined languidly upon the crimson-hued sofa, +bending her graceful head to suit the height of Jessie, who was +twining some flowers among her curls, and occasionally appealing to +Guy to know "if it was not pretty." + +In his favorite seat in the pleasant bay window, opening into the +garden, Guy was sitting, apparently reading a book, though his eyes +did not move very rapidly down the page, for his thoughts were on some +other object. When his pretty stepmother first came to Aikenside, +three months before, he had been half sorry, for he knew just how his +quiet would be disturbed, but as the weeks went by, and he became +accustomed to Jessie's childish prattle and frolicsome ways, while +even Agnes herself was not a bad picture for his handsome home, he +began to feel how he should miss them when they were gone, Jessie +particularly, who made so much sunshine wherever she went, and who was +very dear to the heart of the half-brother. Full well he knew Agnes +would rather stay there, that her income did not warrant as luxurious +a home as he could give her, and that by remaining at Aikenside during +the warmer season she could afford to board through the winter in +Boston, where her personal attractions secured her quite as much +attention as was good for her. Had she been more agreeable to him he +would not have hesitated to offer her a home as long as she chose to +remain, but, as it was, he felt that Lucy Atherstone would be much +happier alone with him. Lucy, however, was not coming yet, and until +she did come Agnes perhaps might stay. It certainly would be better +for Jessie, who could have a teacher in the house, and it was upon +these matters that he was reflecting. + +As if divining his thoughts Agnes said to him rather abruptly: + +"Guy, Ellen Laurie writes me that they are all going to Saratoga for a +time, and then to Newport, and she wished I would join them. Do you +think I can afford it?" + +"Oh, yes, that's splendid, for I'll stay here while you are gone, and +I like Aikenside so much better than Boston. Mamma can afford it, +can't she, Guy?" Jessie exclaimed, dropping her flowers and springing +upon her brother's knee. + +Smoothing her bright hair and pinching her soft cheek, Guy replied: + +"That means, I suppose, that I can afford it, don't it? but, puss, I +was thinking just now about your staying here where you really do +improve." + +Then turning to Agnes he made some inquiries as to the plans proposed +by the Laurie's, ascertaining that Agnes' plan was as follows: He +should invite her to go with him to Saratoga, or Newport, or both, and +that Jessie meantime should remain at Aikenside, just as she wished to +do. + +Guy could not find much pleasure in escorting Agnes to a fashionable +watering place, particularly as he was, of course, expected to pay the +bills, but he sometimes did unselfish things; and as he had not been +very gracious to her on the occasion of her last visit to Aikenside, +he decided to martyr himself and go to Saratoga. But who would care +for Jessie? She must not be left wholly with the servants. A governess +of some kind must be provided, and he was about speaking of this to +Agnes, when the doctor was announced, and the conversation turned into +another channel. Agnes Remington would not have confessed bow much she +was interested in Dr. Holbrook. Indeed, only that morning in reply to +a joking remark made to her by Guy, she had petulantly exclaimed: + +"The idea of my caring for him, except as a friend and physician. Why, +he must be younger than I am, or at most about my age. A mere boy, as +it were." + +And yet, in making her toilet that afternoon, she had arranged every +part of her dress with direct reference to the "mere boy," her heart +beating faster every time she remembered the white sunbonnet and the +Scotch plaid shawl she had seen beside him in the drive that morning. +Little Maddy Clyde would hardly have credited the story had she been +told that the beautiful lady from Aikenside was positively jealous of +Dr. Holbrook's attentions to herself; yet so it was, and the jealousy +was all the more bitter when she remembered who Madeline was, and how +startled that aged couple of the red cottage would be, could they know +who she was. But they did not; she was quite sure of that; and so she +had ventured to pass their door, her heart throbbing with a strange +sensation as the old waymarks came in view, waymarks which she +remembered so well, and around which so many sad memories were +clustering. Agnes was not all bad. Indeed, she was scarcely worse than +most vain, selfish fashionable women; and all that day, since her +return from riding, haunting, remorseful thoughts of the long ago had +been clinging to her, making her more anxious to leave that +neighborhood for a time at least, and in scenes of gayety forget, if +possible, that such things as broken vows or broken hearts existed. + +The arrival of the doctor dissipated her sadness in a measure, and +after greeting him with her usual expressions of welcome, she said, +half playfully, half spitefully: + +"By the way, doctor, who was that old lady, all bent up double in +shawls and things, whom you were taking out for an airing?" + +Guy looked up quickly, wondering where Agnes could have seen the +doctor, who, conscious of a sudden pang, answered, naturally: + +"That old lady, bent double and bundled in shawls, was young Maddy +Clyde, to whom I thought a short ride might do good." + +"Oh, yes; that patient about whom Jessie has gone mad. I am glad to +have seen her." + +There was unmistakable irony in her voice now, and turning from her to +Guy, the doctor continued: + +"The old man was telling me to-day of your kindness in saving his +house from being sold. It was like you, Guy; and I wish I, too, had +the means to be generous, for they are so very poor." + +"I'll tell you," said Jessie, who had stolen to the doctor's side, and +lain her fat, bare arm upon his shoulder, as if he had been Guy. "You +might give Maddy the doctor's bill. I remember how mamma cried, and +said she never could pay papa's bill when it was sent in." + +"Jessie!" said Agnes and Guy, simultaneously, while the doctor +laughingly pulled one of her long, bright curls. + +"Yes, I could do that. I'd thought of it, but they might not accept +it, as they are proud as well as poor." + +"Mr. Markham has no one to care for but his wife and this Madeline, +has he?" Agnes asked, and the doctor replied: + +"I did not suppose so until a few days since, when I learned from a +Mr. Green that Mrs. Markham's youngest and now only brother has been +an inmate of a lunatic asylum for years; and that though they cannot +pay his entire expenses, of course they do all they can toward +providing him with comforts." + +"What is a lunatic asylum, mother? What does he mean?" Jessie asked, +but it was the doctor, not Agnes, who explained to the child what a +lunatic asylum was. + +"Is insanity hereditary in this family?" Guy asked. + +Agnes' cheek was very white, though her face was fumed away as the +doctor answered: "I do not know; I did not ask the cause. I only heard +the fact that such a man as Joseph Mortimer exists." + +For a moment there was silence in the room, and then Guy told the +doctor of what himself and Agnes were speaking when he arrived. + +"I suppose it's of no use asking you to join us for a week or so." + +"There was not," the doctor said. "His patients needed him and he must +stay at home." + +"Doctor, how would this Maddy Clyde do to stay here with Jessie while +we are gone, partly as companion and partly as her teacher?" was Guy's +next question, which brought Mrs. Agnes at once from her reverie. + +"Guy," she exclaimed, "are you crazy? That child Jessie's governess! +No, indeed! I shall have a teacher from Boston--one whose manners and +style are unexceptionable." + +Guy had a will of his own, and few could provoke it into action as +effectually as Agnes, who, in thus opposing him, was working directly +against herself. Paying her no attention, except to bow in token that +he heard, Guy asked Jessie her opinion. + +"Oh, it will be splendid! Can she come to-morrow? I shan't care how +long you are gone if I can have Maddy here, and doctor will come up +every day, will you, doctor?" and the soft eyes looked up pleadingly +into the doctor's face. + +"It is not settled yet that Maddy comes," the doctor replied, adding +as an answer to Guy's question: "If Agnes could be willing, I do not +think you could do better than to secure Miss Clyde's services. Two +children will thus be made happy, for Maddy, as I have told you, +thinks Aikenside must be a little lower only than Paradise. I shall be +happy to open negotiations, if you say so." + +"I'll ride down and let you know to-morrow," Guy said. "These domestic +matters, where there is a difference of thinking, had better be +discussed alone," and he turned good-humoredly toward Agnes, who knew +it was useless to oppose him then. + +But oppose him she did that night, after the doctor had gone, taking +at first the high stand that sooner than have a country girl like +Maddy Clyde associated daily with her daughter, whether as teacher or +companion, she would give up Saratoga and stay at home. Guy could not +explain why it was that opposition from Agnes always aroused all his +powers of antagonism. Yet so it was, and now he was as fully +determined that Maddy Clyde should come to Aikenside as Agnes was that +she should not. He knew, too, how to attain this end without further +altercation. + +"Very well," was his quiet reply, "you can remain at home if you +choose, of course. I had intended taking you myself, wherever you +wished to go; and not only that, but I was about to ask how much was +needed for the necessary additions to your wardrobe, but if you prefer +remaining here to giving up a most unfounded prejudice against a girl +who never harmed you, and whom Jessie already loves, you can do so," +and Guy walked from the room, leaving Agnes first to cry, then to +pout, then to think it all over, and finally to decide that going to +Saratoga and Newport under the protection of Guy, was better than +carrying out a whim, which, after all, was nothing but a whim. + +Accordingly next morning as Guy was in his library reading his papers, +she went tripping up to him, and folding her white hands upon his +shoulder, said, very prettily: + +"I was real cross last night, and let my foolish pride get the +ascendency, but I have considered the matter, and am willing for this +Miss Clyde to come, provided you still think it best." + +Guy's mustache hid the mischievous smile lurking about his mouth, and +he received the concession as graciously as if he did not know +perfectly the motive which impelled it. As she had commenced being +amiable she seemed determined to continue it, and offered herself to +write a note soliciting Maddy's services, + +"As I am Jessie's mother, it will be perfectly proper for me to hire +and manage her," she said, and as Guy acquiesced in this suggestion, +she sat down at the writing desk, and commenced a very pleasantly +worded note, in which Miss Clyde was informed that she had been +recommended as a suitable person with whom to leave Jessie during the +summer and a part of the autumn, and that she, Jessie's mother, wrote +to ask if for the sum of one dollar per week she were at liberty to +come to Aikenside as governess, or waiting-maid. + +"Or what?" Guy asked, as she read to him what she had written. "Maddy +Clyde will not be waiting-maid in this house, neither will she come +for one dollar per week as you propose. I hire her myself. I have +taken a fancy to the girl. Commence again; substitute companion for +waiting-maid, and offering her three dollars per week instead of one." + +As long as Guy paid the bill Agnes could not demur to the price, +although remembering a time when she had taught a district school for +one dollar per week and boarded around besides. She thought three +dollars far too much. But Guy had commanded, and him she generally +obeyed, so she wrote another note, which he approved, and sealing it +up sent it by a servant down to the red cottage. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE DECISION. + + +The reception of Agnes' note produced quite a commotion at the red +cottage, where various opinions were expressed as to the prime mover +of the plan, grandpa thinking that as Mrs. Agnes wrote the note, and +was most interested in it, she, of course, had suggested it, grandma +insisting that it was Jessie's doings, while Maddy, when she said +anything, agreed with her grandmother, though away down in her heart +was a tiny spot warm with the half belief that Mr. Guy himself had +first thought of having her at Aikenside, where she would rather go +than to any other spot in the wide world; to Aikenside, with its +shaven lawn, almost large enough to be called a park, with its shaded +paths and winding walks, its costly flowers and running vines, its +fountains and statuary, its fish pond and grove, its airy rooms, its +marbled hall, its winding stairs, with banisters of rosewood, its +cupola at the top, from which so many miles of hill and meadow land +could be discerned, its bay windows and long piazzas, its sweet-faced, +golden-haired Jessie, and its manly, noble Guy. Only the image of +Agnes, flashing in silk and diamonds was a flaw on the picture's fair +surface. From thoughts of her Maddy had insensibly shrank, until she +met her in the carriage, and then received the note asking her +services. These events wrought in her a change, and dread of Mrs. +Agnes passed away. She should like her, and she should be so happy at +Aikenside, for, of course, she was going, and she began to wish the +doctor would come so as to tell her how long before she would be +strong enough to perform the duties of teacher to little Jessie. + +At first Grandpa Markham hesitated. It might do Maddy a deal of hurt +to go to Aikenside, he said, her humble home would look mean to her +after all that finery, while the temptations to vanity and ambition +would be greater there than at home; but Maddy put all his objections +aside, and long before the doctor came she had written to Mrs. Agnes +that she would go. The doctor could not understand why it was that in +Maddy's home he did not think as well of her going to Aikenside as he +had done the evening previous. She looked so bright, so pure, so +artless, sitting by her grandfather's knee, that it seemed a pity to +transplant her to another soil, while, hidden in his heart where even +he did not know it was hidden, was a fear of what might be the effect +of daily intercourse with Guy. Still he said it was the best thing for +her to do, and laughingly remarked that it was far better than +teaching the district school, and then he asked if she would ride +again that day; but to this Mrs. Markham objected. It was too soon, +she said, Maddy had hardly recovered from yesterday's fatigue, +suggesting that as the doctor was desirous of doing good to his +convalescent patients, he carry out poor old deaf Mary Barnes, who +complained that he stayed so long with the child at "granther +Markham's" as to have but a moment to spare for her. + +Instantly the eyes of Mrs. Markham and the doctor met, the latter +feeling very uncomfortable, while the former was confirmed in the +suspicion raised by what Maddy told her the day before. + +It was the doctor who carried Maddy's answer to Agnes, the doctor who +made all the succeeding arrangements, deciding that Maddy would not be +wholly strong until the very day fixed upon by Agnes for her departure +for Saratoga. For this Guy was sorry. It would have been an easy +matter for him to have ridden down to the cottage, and seen the girl +in whom he was beginning to feel so much interest that in his last +letter to Lucy he had mentioned her as about to become his sister's +governess; but he did not care to see her there. It seemed to him that +the surroundings of that slanting-roofed house did not belong to her, +and he would rather meet her in his own more luxurious home. But the +doctor's word was law, and so, on the first day of August he followed +Agnes and her three huge traveling trunks to the carriage, and was +driven from the house to which Maddy was coming that afternoon. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +AT AIKENSIDE. + + +It was a long, tiresome ride, for grandpa, from Honedale to Aikenside, +and as he was not in his wife's secret, he accepted thankfully the +doctor's offer to take Maddy there himself. With this arrangement +Maddy was well pleased, as it would thus afford her the opportunity +she had so much desired, of talking with the doctor about his bill, +and asking him to wait until she had earned enough to pay it. + +To the aged couple, parting for the first time with their darling, the +day was very sad, but they would not intrude their grief upon the +young girl looking so eagerly forward to the new life opening before +her; only grandpa's voice faltered a little when, in the morning +prayer, he commended his child to God, asking that she might be kept +from temptation, and that the new sights and scenes to which she was +going might not beget in her a love of the world's vanities, or a +disgust for her old home; but that she might come back to it the same +loving, happy child as she was then, and never be ashamed of the +parents to whom she was so dear. There was an answering sob from the +chair where Maddy knelt, and after the devotions were ended she wound +her arm around her grandfather's neck, and parting his silvery locks, +said to him, earnestly; + +"Grandpa, do you think I could ever be ashamed of you and grandma?" + +"I hope not, darling; it would break our hearts; but finery and things +is mighty apt to set folks up, and after you've walked a spell on them +velvet carpets, you'll no doubt think your feet make a big noise on +our bare kitchen floor." + +"That may be, but I shan't be ashamed of you. No, not if I were Mrs. +Guy Remington herself." And Maddy emphasized her words with a kiss, as +she thought how nice it would be provided she were a widow, to be Mrs. +Guy Remington, and have her grandparents live at Aikenside with her. + +"But, pshaw! I'll never be Mrs. anybody; and if I am, I'll have to +have a husband, which would be such a bother!" was her next mental +comment, as, leaving her grandfather, she went to help her grandmother +with the breakfast dishes, wondering when she would wipe those blue +cups again, and how she should probably feel when she did. + +Quickly the morning passed, and just as the clock struck two the +doctor's buggy appeared over the hill. Up to this moment Maddy had +only been happy in anticipation; but when, with her shawl and bonnet +on, she stood waiting while the doctor fastened her little trunk, and +when she saw a tear on the wrinkled faces of both her grandparents, +her fortitude gave way; and 'mid a storm of sobs, she said her good-bys +and received her grandfather's blessing. + +It was very pleasant that afternoon, for the summer breeze was blowing +cool across the fields, where the laborers were busy; and with the +elasticity of youth, Maddy's tears stopped their flowing, but not +until the dear old home had disappeared, and they were some distance +on the road to Aikenside. + +"I wonder how I shall like Mrs. Remington and Mr. Guy?" was the first +remark she made. + +"You'll not see them immediately. They left this morning for +Saratoga," the doctor replied. + +"Left! Mr. Guy gone!" Maddy repeated in a disappointed tone. + +"Are you very sorry?" the doctor asked, and Maddy replied: + +"I did want to see him once; you know I never have." + +It would be such a surprise to find that Guy was no other than the +terrible inspector, that he would not undeceive her, the doctor +thought; and so he relapsed into a thoughtful mood, from which Maddy +aroused him by breaking the subject of the unpaid bill, asking if he'd +please not trouble grandpa, but wait until she could pay it. + +"Perhaps it's wrong asking it when you were so good, but if you only +will take me for payment," and Maddy's soft brown eyes were lifted to +his face. + +"Yes, Maddy, I'll take you for payment," the doctor said, smiling, +half seriously, as his eyes rested fondly upon her. + +Even then stupid Maddy did not understand him, but began to calculate +out loud how long it would take to earn the money. She'd heard people +say that the doctor charged a dollar a visit to Honedale, and he'd +been so many, many times, that it would take a great many weeks to pay +him; besides, there was the debt to Mr. Guy. She wanted to help pay +that, but did not see how she could, unless he waited, too. Did the +doctor think he would? It seemed terrible to the doctor that one so +young as Maddy should be harassed with the payment of debts, and he +felt a most intense desire for the right to shield her from all such +care, but he must not speak of it then; he'd rather she should remain +a little longer an artless child, confiding all her troubles to him as +if he had been her brother. + +"There's Aikenside," he said, at last, and it was not long before they +passed through the gate, guarded by the great bronze lions, and struck +into the graveled road leading to the house. + +"It's grander, finer, than I ever dreamed. Oh! if I could some time +have just such a home! and doctor, look! What does make that water go +up in the air so? Is it what they call a fountain?" + +In her excitement Maddy had risen, and with one hand resting on the +doctor's shoulder, was looking around her eagerly. Guy Remington would +have laughed, and been gratified, too, could he have heard the +enthusiastic praises heaped upon his home by the little schoolgirl as +she drove up to his door. But Guy was away in the dusty cars, and only +Jessie stood on the piazza to receive her teacher. There were warm +words of welcome, kisses and hugs; and then Jessie led her friend to +the chamber she was to occupy. + +"Mother wanted you to sleep the other side of the house, but Brother +Guy said no, you should have a pleasant room; and when Guy says a +thing, it's so. It's nice in here, and close to me. See, I'm right +here," and Jessie opened a door leading directly to her own sleeping +room. + +"Here's one trunk," she continued, as a servant brought up and set +down, a little contemptuously, the small hair-cloth box containing +Maddy's wardrobe. "Here's one; where's the rest?" and she was flying +after Tom, when Maddy stopped her, saying: + +"I have but one--that's all." + +"Only that little, teenty thing? How funny. Why, mamma carried three +most as big as my bed to Saratoga. You can't have many dresses. What +are you going to wear to dinner?" + +"I've been to dinner." And Maddy looked up in some surprise. + +"You have! We never have it till five, when Guy is at home; but now +they are gone, Mrs. Noah says we will have it at one, as folks ought +to do. To-day I coaxed her to wait till you come, and the table is all +set out so nicely for two. Can you carve, and do you like green turtle +soup?" + +Maddy was bewildered, but managed to reply that she could not carve, +that she never saw any green turtle soup, and that she supposed she +should wear to dinner the delaine she had on. "Why, we always change, +even Mrs. Noah," Jessie exclaimed, bending over the open trunk and +examining its contents. + +Two calicoes, a blue muslin, a gingham and another delaine, beside the +one she had on. That was the sum total of Maddy's wardrobe, and Jessie +glanced at it a little ruefully as Maddy carefully shook out the +nicely folded dresses and laid them upon the bed. Here Mrs. Noah was +heard calling Jessie, who ran away leaving Maddy alone for a moment. + +Maddy had seen the look Jessie gave her dresses, and for the first +time there dawned upon her mind the possibility that her plain +apparel, and ignorance of the ways of Aikenside might be to her the +cause of much mortification. + +"And grandma said they were so nice, too--doing them up so carefully," +she said, her lip beginning to quiver, and her eyes filling with +tears, as thoughts of home came rushing over her. + +She could not force them back, and laying her head upon the top of the +despised hair trunk, she sobbed aloud. Guy Remington's private room +was in that hall, and as the doctor knew a book was to have been left +there for him, he took the liberty of getting it; passing Maddy's door +he heard the low sound of weeping, and looking in, saw her where she +sat or rather knelt upon the floor. + +"Homesick so soon!" he said, advancing to her side, and then amid a +torrent of tears, the whole came out. + +Maddy never could do as they did there, and everybody would laugh at +her so for an awkward thing; she never knew that folks ate dinner at +five instead of twelve--she should surely starve to death--she +couldn't carve--she could not eat mud-turtle soup, and she did not +know which dress to wear for dinner--would the doctor tell her? There +they were, and she pointed to the bed, only five, and she knew Jessie +thought it so mean. + +Such was the substance of Maddy's passionate outpouring of her griefs +to the highly perplexed doctor, who, after quieting her somewhat, +ascertained that the greatest present trouble was the deciding what +dress was suitable to the occasion. The doctor had never made dress +his study, but as it happened he liked blue, and so suggested it, as +the one most likely to be becoming. + +"That!" and Maddy looked confounded. "Why, grandma never let me wear +that, except on Sunday; that's my very best dress." + +"Poor child; I'm not sure it was right for you to come here where the +life is so different from the quiet, unpretentious one you have led," +the doctor thought, but he merely said: "It's my impression they wear +their best dresses here, all the time." + +"But what will I do when that's worn out! Oh, dear, dear, I wish I had +not come!" and another impetuous fit of weeping ensued, in the midst +of which Jessie came back, greatly disturbed on Maddy's account, and +asking eagerly what was the matter. + +Very adroitly the doctor managed to draw Jessie aside, while as well +as he was able he gave her a few hints with regard to her intercourse +with Maddy, and Jessie, who seemed intuitively to understand him, went +back to the weeping girl, soothing her much as a little mother would +have soothed her child. They would have such nice times, when Maddy +got used to their ways, which would not take long, and nobody would +laugh at her, she said, when Maddy expressed her fears on that point. +"You are too pretty even if you do make mistakes!" and then she went +into ecstasies over the blue muslin, which was becoming to Maddy, and +greatly enhanced her girlish beauty. The tear stains were all washed +away, Jessie using very freely her mother's _eau-de-cologne_, and +making Maddy's cheeks very red with rubbing, the nut-brown hair was +brushed until it shone like satin, a little narrow band of black +velvet ribbon was pinned about Maddy's snowy neck, and then she was +ready for that terrible ordeal, her first dinner at Aikenside. The +doctor was going to stay, and this helped to relieve her somewhat. + +"You must come to the housekeeper's room and see her first," Jessie +said, and with a beating heart and brain bewildered by the elegancies +which met her at every turn, Maddy followed to where the dreaded Mrs. +Noah, in rustling back silk and a thread lace collar, sat sewing and +greatly enjoying the leisure she had in her master's absence. + +Mrs. Noah knew who Maddy was, remembering the old man said that she +would not disgrace a drawing-room as fine as that at Aikenside. She +had discovered, too, that Mrs. Agnes was opposed to her coming, that +only Guy's determined will had brought her there; and this, if nothing +else, had disposed her to feel kindly toward the little governess. She +had expected to see her rather pretty, but was not prepared to find +her what she was. Maddy's was a singular type of beauty--a beauty +untarnished by any selfish, uncharitable, or suspicious feeling. Clear +and truthful as a mirror, her brown eyes looked into Mrs. Noah's, +while her low courtesy--so full of deference, found its way straight +to that motherly heart. + +"I am glad to see you, Miss Clyde," she said, "very glad." + +Maddy's lip quivered a little and her voice shook as she replied: + +"Please call me Maddy. They do at home, and I shan't be quite so--so--" + +She could not say "homesick," lest she should break out again into a +fit of crying, but Mrs. Noah understood her, and remembering her own +experience when first she went from home, she involuntarily stooped to +kiss the pure, white forehead of the girl, who henceforth was sure of +one friend at least at Aikenside. + +The dinner was a success, so far as Maddy was concerned. Not a single +mistake did she perpetrate, though her cheeks burned painfully as she +felt the eyes of the polite waiters fixed so often upon her, and +fancied they might be laughing at her. But they were not, and thanks +to the kind-hearted Guy, they thought of her only with respect, as one +who was their superior and must be treated accordingly. Knowing how +different everything was at Aikenside from that to which she had been +accustomed, Guy, with the thoughtfulness natural to him, had taken the +precaution of speaking to each of the servants concerning Miss Clyde, +Jessie's teacher. As he could not be there himself when she first came +it would devolve upon them, more or less, to make it pleasant for her +by kind, civil attentions, he said, hinting at the dire displeasure +sure to fall on any one who should be guilty of a misdemeanor in that +direction. To Paul, the coachman, he had been particular in his +charges, telling him who Maddy was, and arguing that from the +insolence once given to the grandfather the offender was bound to be +more polite to the grandchild. The carriage was to be at hers and +Jessie's command, Paul never refusing a reasonable request to drive +the young ladies when and where they wished to go, while a pretty +little black pony, recently broken to the saddle for Agnes, was to be +at Miss Clyde's service, if she chose to have it. As Guy's slightest +wish was always obeyed, Maddy's chances for happiness were not small, +notwithstanding that she felt so desolate and lonely when the doctor +left her, and standing by Jessie she watched him with a swelling heart +until he was lost to view in the deepening twilight. + +Feeling that she must be homesick, Mrs. Noah suggested that she try +the fine piano in the little music-room. + +"Maybe you can't play, but you can drum 'Days of Absence,' as most +girls do," and opening the lid she bade Maddy "thump as long as she +liked." + +Music was a delight to Maddy, who coveted nothing so much as a +knowledge of it, and sitting down upon the stool, she touched the +soft-toned instrument, ascertaining by her far several sweet chords, +and greatly astonishing Jessie, who wondered at her skill. Twice each +week a teacher came up from Devonshire to give lessons to Jessie, but +as yet she could only play one scale and a few simple bars. These she +attempted to teach to Maddy, who caught at them so quickly and +executed them so well that Jessie was delighted. Maddy ought to take +lessons, she said, and some time during the next day she took to Mrs. +Noah a letter which she had written to Guy. After going into ecstasies +over Maddy, saying she was the nicest kind of a girl, that she prayed +in the morning as well as at night, and looked so sweet in blue, she +asked if she couldn't take music lessons, too, advancing many reasons +why she should, one of which was that she could play now a great deal +better than herself. + +It was several days before an answer came to this letter, and when it +did it brought Guy's consent for Maddy to take lessons, together with +a note for Mr. Simons, requesting him to consider Miss Clyde his +pupil, on the same terms with Jessie. + +Though greatly pleased with Aikenside, and greatly attached to Jessie, +Maddy had had many hours of loneliness when her heart was back in the +humble cottage where she knew they were missing her so much, but now a +new world, a world of music, was suddenly opened before her, and the +homesickness all disappeared. It had been arranged with Mrs. Noah, by +Agnes, that Jessie should only study for two hours each day, +consequently Maddy had nearly all the time to herself, and well did +she improve it, making so rapid progress that Simons looked on amazed +declaring her case to be without a parallel, while Jessie was left far +behind. Indeed, after a short time Maddy might have been her teacher, +and was of much service to her in practicing her lessons. + +Meanwhile the doctor came often to Aikenside, praising Maddy's +progress in music, and though he did not know a single note, +compelling himself to listen while with childlike satisfaction she +played him her last lesson. She was very happy now at Aikenside, where +all were so kind to her, and half wished that the family would always +remain as it was then, that Agnes and Guy would not come home, for +with their coming she felt there would be a change. It was nearly time +now to expect them. Indeed, Guy had written on one Saturday that they +should probably be home the next, and during the ensuing week +Aikenside presented that most uncomfortable phase of a house being +cleaned. Everything must be in order for Mr. Guy, Mrs. Noah said, +taking more pains with his rooms than with the remaining portion of +the building. Guy was her idol; nothing was too good for him, few +things quite good enough, and she said so much in his praise that +Maddy began to shrink from meeting him. What would he think of her? +Perhaps he might not notice her in the least, and that would be +terrible. But, no, a man as kind as he had shown himself to her, would +at least pay her some attention, and so at last she began to +anticipate his coming home, wondering what their first meeting would +be, what she should say to him, and what he would think of her. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +GUY AT HOME. + + +Saturday came at last, a balmy September day, when all nature seemed +conspiring to welcome the travelers for whom so extensive preparations +were making at Aikenside. They were expected at about six in the +afternoon, and just before that hour the doctor rode up to be in +readiness to meet them. In the dining-room the table was set as Maddy +had never seen it set before, making, with its silver, its china, and +cut-glass, a glittering display. There was Guy's seat as carver, with +Agnes at the urn, while Maddy felt sure that the two plates between +Agnes and Guy were intended for Jessie and herself, the doctor +occupying the other side. Jessie would sit next her mother, which +would leave her near to Guy, where he could see every movement she +made. Would he think her awkward, or would he, as she hoped, be so +much absorbed with the doctor as not to notice her? Suppose she should +drop her fork, or upset one of those queer-looking goblets, more like +bowls than anything else? It would be terrible, and Maddy's cheeks +tingled at the very thought of such a catastrophe. Were they goblets +really, those funny colored things, and if they were not, what were +they? Summoning all her courage, she asked the doctor, her prime +counselor, and learned that they were the finger-glasses, of which she +had read, but which she had never seen before. + +"Oh, must I use them?" she asked, in so evident distress that the +doctor could not forbear a laugh as he told her it was not of the +slightest consequence whether she used them or not, advising her to +watch Mrs. Agnes, who was _au fait_ in all such matters. + +Six o'clock came, but no travelers. Then an hour went by, and there +came a telegram that the cars had broken down and would not probably +arrive until late in the night, if indeed they did till morning. +Greatly disappointed, the doctor, after dinner, took his leave, +telling the girls they had better not sit up. Consequently, at a late +hour they both retired, sleeping so soundly as not to near the noise +outside the house; the banging of doors, the setting down of trunks, +the tramp of feet, Mrs. Noah's words of welcome, one pleasant voice +which responded, and another more impatient one which sounded as if +its owner were tired and cross. + +Agnes and Guy had come. As a whole, Agnes' season at Saratoga had been +rather disagreeable. Guy, it is true had been exceedingly kind. She +had been flattered by brainless fops. She had heard herself called +"that beautiful Mrs. Remington," and "that charming young widow," but +no serious attentions had been paid, no millionaire had asked to be +her second husband. If there had, she would have said yes, for Agnes +was not averse to changing her state of widowhood. She liked the +doctor, but if he did not propose, and some other body did, she should +accept that other body, of course. This was her intention when she +left Aikenside, and when she came back, it was with the determination +to raise the siege at once, and compel the doctor to surrender. She +knew he was not wealthy as she could wish, but his family were the +Holbrooks, and as she positively liked him, she was prepared to waive +the matter of money. In this state of mind it is not surprising that +the morning of the return home she should listen with a troubled mind +to Jessie's rather exaggerated account of the number of times the +doctor had been there, and the nice things he had said to her and +Maddy. + +"He had visited them ever so much, staying ever so long. I know Maddy +likes him; I do, anyway," Jessie said, never dreaming of the passion +she was exciting, jealousy of Maddy, hatred of Maddy, and a desire to +be revenged on a girl whom Dr. Holbrook visited "ever so much." + +What was she that he should care for her? A mere nothing--a child, +whom Guy had taken up. Pity there was a Lucy Atherstone in the way of +his making her mistress of Aikenside. It would be a pretty romance, +Guy Remington and Grandpa Markham's grandchild. Agnes was nervous and +tired, and this helped to increase her anger toward the innocent girl. +She would take immediate measures, she thought, to put the upstart +down, and the sight of Flora laying the cloth for breakfast suggested +to her the first step in teaching Maddy her place. + +"Flora," she said, "I notice you are arranging the table for four. +Have we company?" + +"Why, no, ma'am; there's Mr. Guy, yourself, Miss Jessie, and Miss +Clyde," was Flora's reply, while Agnes continued haughtily: "Remove +Miss Clyde's plate. No one allows their governess to eat with them." + +"But, ma'am," and Flora hesitated, "she's very pretty, and ladylike, +and young; she has always eaten with Miss Jessie and Dr. Holbrook when +he was here. He treats her as if she was good as anybody." + +In her eagerness to serve Maddy and save her from insult, Flora was +growing bold, but she only hurt the cause by mentioning the doctor. +Agnes was determined now, and she replied: + +"It was quite right when we were gone, but it is different now, and +Mr. Remington, I am sure, will not suffer it." + +"Might I ask him?" Flora persisted, her hand still on the plate. + +"No," Agnes would attend to that, and also see Miss Clyde. All Flora +had to do was to remove the plate, which she finally did, muttering to +herself: "Such airs! but I know Mr. Guy won't stand it." + +Meantime Maddy had put on her prettiest delaine, tied her little +dainty black silk apron, Mrs. Noah's gift, and with the feeling that +she was looking unusually well, started for the parlor to meet her +employer, Mrs. Agnes. Jessie had gone in quest of her brother, and +thus Agnes was alone when Maddy Clyde first presented herself before +her. She had not expected to find Maddy so pretty, and for a moment +the hot blood crimsoned her cheek, while her heart throbbed wildly +beneath the rich morning dress. Dr. Holbrook had cause for being +attracted by that fresh, bright face, she thought, and so she steeled +herself against the better impulses of her nature, impulses which +pleaded that for the sake of the past she should be kind to Maddy +Clyde. + +"Ah, good-morning. You are Jessie's governess, I presume," she said, +bowing distantly, and pretending not to notice the hand which Maddy +involuntarily extended toward her. "Jessie speaks well of you, and I +am very glad you suit her. You have had a pleasant time, I trust?" + +Her voice was so cold and her manner so distant that Maddy's eyes for +an instant filled with tears, but she answered civilly that she had +been very happy, and everybody was very kind. It was harder work to +put down Maddy Clyde than Agnes had expected, and after a little +further conversation there ensued a silence, which neither was +inclined to break. At last, summoning all her courage, Agnes began: + +"Excuse me, Miss Clyde, but your own good sense, of which I am sure +you have an abundance, must tell you that now Mr. Remington and myself +are at home, your intercourse with our family must be rather +limited--that is--ahem--that is, neither Mr. Remington nor myself are +accustomed to having our governess very much with us. I suppose you +have had the range of the parlors, sitting there when you liked, and +all this was perfectly proper. Mind, I am finding no fault with you. +It is all quite right," she continued, as she saw the strange look of +terror and surprise visible on Maddy's face. "The past is right, but +in future it will be a little different, I am willing to accord to a +governess all the privileges possible. They are human as well as +myself, but society makes a difference. Don't you know it does?" + +"Yes--no--I don't know. Oh, pray tell me what I am to do!" Maddy +gasped, her face as white as ashes, and her eyes wearing as yet only a +scared, uncertain look. + +With little, graceful tosses of the head, which set in motion every +one of the brown curls, Mrs. Agnes replied: + +"You are not, of course, to go to Mr. Remington. It is my matter, and +does not concern him. What I wish is this: You are to come to the +parlor only when invited, and are not to intrude upon us at any time, +particularly when company is here, such as--well, such as Dr. +Holbrook, if you please. As you cannot be with Jessie all the while, +you will, when your labors as governess are over, sit in your own +room, or the schoolroom, or walk in the back yard, just as the higher +servants do--such as Mrs. Noah and the sewing girl, Sarah. +Occasionally we shall have you in to dine with us, but usually you +will take your meals with Mrs. Noah and Sarah. By following these +directions you will, I think, give entire satisfaction." + +When Mrs. Agnes had finished this, Maddy began to understand her +position, and into her white face the hot blood poured indignantly. +Wholly inexperienced, she had never dreamed that a governess was not +worthy to sit at the same table with her employer, that she must never +enter the parlors unbidden, or intrude herself in any way. No wonder +that her cheeks burned at the degradation, or that, for an instant, +she felt like defying the proud woman to her face. But the angry words +trembling on her tongue were repressed as she remembered her +grandfather's teachings; and with a bow as haughty as any Mrs. Agnes +could have made, and a look on her face which could not easily be +forgotten, she left the room, and in a kind of stunned bewilderment +sought the garden, where she could, unseen, give way to her feelings. + +Once alone, the torrent burst forth, and burying her face in the soft +grass, she wept bitterly, never hearing the step coming near, and not +at first heeding the voice which asked what was the matter. Guy +Remington, too, had come out into the garden, accidentally wandering +that way, and so stumbling upon the little figure crying in the grass. +He knew it was Maddy, and greatly surprised to find her thus, asked +what was the matter. Then, as she did not hear him, he laid his hand +gently upon her shoulder, compelling her to look up. In all her +imaginings of Guy, she had never associated him with the man who had +so puzzled and confused her, and now she did not for a time suspect +the truth. She only thought him a guest at Aikenside; some one come +with Guy, and her degradation seemed greater than before. She was not +surprised when he called her by name; of course he remembered her, +just as she did him; but she did wonder a little what Mrs. Agnes would +say, could she know how kindly he spoke to her, lifting her from the +grass and leading her to a rustic seat at no great distance from them. + +"Now, tell me why you are crying so?" he said, brushing from her silk +apron the spot of dirt which had settled upon it. "Are you homesick?" +he continued, and then Maddy burst out again. + +She forgot that he was a stranger, forgot everything except that he +sympathized with her. + +"Oh, sir," she sobbed, "I was so happy here till they came home, Mrs. +Remington and Mr. Guy. I never thought it was a disgrace to be a +governess; never heard it was so considered, or that I was not good +enough to eat with them till she told me this. Oh, dear, dear!" and +choked with tears Maddy stopped a moment to take breath. + +She did not look up at the young man beside her, and it was well she +did not, for the dark expression of his face would have frightened +her. Half guessing the truth, and impatient to hear more, he said to +her: + +"Go on," so sternly, that she started, and replied: + +"I know you are angry with me and I ought not to have told you." + +"I am not angry--not at you at least--go on," was Guy's reply, and +Maddy continued: + +"She told me that now they had come home it would be different, that +only when invited must I come to the parlor, or anywhere, but must +stay in the servants' part, and eat with Mrs. Noah and Sarah. I'd just +as soon do that. I am no better than they, only, only--the way she +told me made me feel so mean, as if I was not anybody, when I am," and +here Maddy's pride began to rise. "I'm just as good as she, if grandpa +is poor, and I won't stay here to be treated like a nigger by her and +Mr. Guy. I liked him so much too, because he was kind to grandpa and +to me when I was sick. Yes, I did like him so much." + +"And how is it now?" Guy asked, wondering who in the world she thought +he was. "How is it now?" + +"I s'pose it's wicked to feel such things on Sunday, but, somehow, +what she said keeps making me so bad that I know I hate her, and I +guess I hate Mr. Guy!" + +This was Maddy's answer, spoken deliberately, while she looked up at +the young man, who, with a comical expression about his mouth, +answered back: + +"I am Mr. Guy." "You, you! Oh, I can't bear it! I will die!" and Maddy +sprang up as quickly as if feeling an electric shock. + +But Guy's arm was interposed to stop her, and Guy's arm held her back, +while he asked where she was going. + +"Anywhere, out of sight where you can never see me again," Maddy +sobbed vehemently. "It is bad enough to have you think me a fool, as +you must; but now, oh what do you think of me?" + +"Nothing bad, I assure you," Guy said, still holding her wrist to keep +her there. "I supposed you knew who I was, but as you did not, I +forgive you for hating me so cordially. If you thought I sanctioned +what Mrs. Remington has said to you, you had cause to dislike me, but +Miss Clyde, I do not, and this is the first intimation I have had that +you were to be treated other than as a lady. I am master of Aikenside, +not Mrs. Agnes, who shall be made to understand it." + +"Oh, please don't quarrel about me. Let me go home, and then all will +be well," Maddy cried, feeling, at that moment, more averse to leaving +Aikenside than she could have thought it possible. + +"We shall not quarrel, but I shall have my way; meanwhile go to your +room and stay there until told that I have sent for you." + +They went to the house together, but separated in the hall; Maddy +repairing to her room, while Guy sought Mrs. Agnes. The moment she saw +his face she knew a storm was coming, but was not prepared for the +biting sarcasm and bitter reproaches heaped upon her by one who, when +roused, was a perfect hurricane. + +Maybe she had forgotten what she was when his father married her, he +said, but he had not, and he remembered well the wonder expressed by +many that his father should stoop to marry a poor school teacher. +"Yes, that's what you were, madam, much as you despise Maddy Clyde for +being a governess; you were one once yourself, and before that time +mercy knows what you were--a hired girl, perhaps--your present airs +would seem to warrant as much!" + +Guy was in a sad passion by this time, and failed to note the effect +his last words had on Agnes, who turned livid with rage and terror; +but smothering down her wrath, she said beseechingly: + +"Pray, Guy, do not be so angry; I know I am foolish about some things, +and proud people who 'come up' as you say always are, I guess; I know +that marrying your father made me what I am, but everybody does not +know it, and it is not necessary they should. I don't remember exactly +what I did say to this Clyde girl, but I thought it would be +pleasanter for you, pleasanter for us all, not to have her always +around; it seems she has presided at the table when Dr. Holbrook was +here to tea, and even you can't think that quite right." + +"I don't know why," and at mention of Dr. Holbrook Guy's temper burst +out again. "Agnes, you can't deceive me; I know the secret of your +abominable treatment of Maddy Clyde is jealousy." + +"Guy--jealous, I jealous of that child;" and Agnes' voice was +expressive of the utmost consternation. + +"Yes, jealous of that child; you think that because the doctor has +been kind to her, perhaps he wants her some time for his wife. I hope +he does; I mean to help it on; I'll tell him to have her, and if he +don't I'll almost marry her myself!" and Guy paced up and down the +parlor, chafing and foaming like a young lion. + +Agnes was conquered, and quite as much bewildered as Maddy had been; +she heard only in part how Maddy Clyde was henceforth to be treated. + +"Yes, yes," she gasped at last, as Guy talked on, "stop now, for +mercy's sake, and I'll do anything, only not this morning, my head +aches so I cannot go to the breakfast table; I must be excused," and +holding her temples, which were throbbing with pain, induced by strong +excitement, Agnes hurried to her own room and threw herself upon the +bed, angry, mortified and subdued. + +The breakfast bell had rung twice while Guy was holding that interview +with Agnes, and at last Mrs. Noah came up herself to learn the cause +of the delay; standing in the hall she heard a part of what was +transpiring in the parlor. Mrs. Noah was proud and jealous of her +master's dignity, and once or twice the thought had crossed her mind +that perhaps when he came home Maddy would be treated more as some +governesses were treated by their employers, but to have Agnes take +the matter up was quite a different thing, and Mrs. Noah smiled with +grim satisfaction, as she heard Guy issuing orders as to how Miss +Clyde should be treated. Standing back to let Agnes pass, she waited a +moment, and then, as if she had just come up, presented herself before +Guy, asking if he were ready for breakfast. + +"Yes, call Miss Clyde; tell her I sent for her," was Guy's answer, and +forthwith Mrs. Noah repaired to Maddy's room, finding her still +sobbing bitterly. + +"I cannot go down," she said; "my face is all stains, and it's so +dreadful, happening on Sunday, too. What would grandpa say?" + +"You can wash off the stains. Come," Mrs. Noah said, pouring water +into the bowl, and bidding Maddy hurry, "as Mr. Guy was waiting +breakfast for her." + +"But I am not to eat with them," Maddy began, when Mrs. Noah stopped +her by explaining how Guy ruled that house, and Agnes had been +completely routed. + +This did not quiet Maddy particularly, and her heart beat painfully as +she descended to the parlor, where Guy was still walking up and down. + +"Come, Miss Clyde, Jessie is nearly famished," he said pleasantly, as +Maddy appeared, and without the slightest reference to what had passed +he drew Maddy's arm within his own, and giving a hand to Jessie, who +had just come in, he went to the breakfast room, where Maddy was told +to preside. + +Guy watched her closely without seeming to do so, mentally deciding +that she was neither vulgar nor awkward. On the contrary, he thought +her very pretty, and very graceful for one so unaccustomed to society. +Nothing was said of Agnes, who kept her room the entire day, and did +not join the family until evening, when Guy sat upon the piazza with +Jessie in his lap, while Maddy was not very far away. At first there +was much constraint between Agnes and Maddy, but with Guy to manage, +it soon wore away, and Agnes felt herself exceedingly amiable when she +reflected how gracious she had been to her rival. + +But Maddy could not so soon forget. All through the day the conviction +had been settling upon her that she could not stay at Aikenside, and +so on the following morning, just after breakfast was over, she +summoned courage to ask Mr. Guy if she might talk with film. Leading +the way to his library, he bade her sit down, while he took the chair +opposite, and then waited for her to commence. + +Maddy was afraid of Guy. He did not seem quite like Dr. Holbrook. He +was haughtier in his appearance, while his rather elaborate style of +dress and polished manners gave him, in her estimation, a kind of +superiority over all the men she had ever met. Besides that, she +remembered how his dark eyes had flashed when she told him what she +did the previous day, and also that she had said to his face that she +hated him. She could not bear to leave a bad impression on his mind, +so the first words she said to him were: + +"Mr. Remington, I can't stay here after all that has happened. It +would not be pleasant for me or Mrs. Agnes, so I am going home, but I +want you to forget what I said about hating you yesterday. I did not +then know who you were. I don't hate you. I like you, and I want you +to like me." + +She did not look at him, for her eyelids were cast down, and her +lashes were wet with the tears she could scarcely keep from shedding. +Guy had never known much about girls of Maddy's age, and there was +something extremely fascinating in the artless simplicity of this half +child, half woman, sitting there before him, and asking him so +demurely to like her. She was very pretty, he thought, and with proper +culture would make a beautiful woman. Then, as he remembered his +avowed intention of urging the doctor to make her his wife some day, +the idea flashed upon him that it would be very generous, very +magnanimous in him to educate that young girl expressly for the +doctor, and though he hardly seemed to wait at all ere replying to +Maddy, he had in the brief interval formed a skeleton plan, and saw it +in all its bearings and triumphal result. + +"I am much obliged for your liking me," he said, a very little +mischievously. "You surely have not much reason so to do when you +recall the incidents of our first interview. Maddy--Miss Clyde--I have +come to the conclusion that I knew less than you did, and I beg your +pardon for annoying you so terribly." + +Then briefly Guy explained to her how it all had happened, blaming +himself far more than he did the doctor, who, he said, had repented +bitterly. "Had you died, Miss Clyde, when you were so sick, I half +believe he would have felt it his duty to die also. He likes you very +much; more indeed than any patient I ever knew him to have," and Guy's +eyes glanced curiously at Maddy to witness the effect his words might +have upon her. But Maddy merely answered: + +"Yes, I think he does like me, and I know I like him." + +Mentally chastising himself for trying to find in Maddy's head an idea +which evidently never was there, he began to speak of her proposition +of leave, saying he should not suffer it, Jessie needed her and she +must stay. She was not to mind the disagreeable things Mrs. Remington +had said. She was tired and nervous, and so gave way to some very +preposterous notions, which she had picked up somewhere. She would +treat Maddy better hereafter, and she must stay. It was pleasanter for +Jessie to have a companion so near her own age. Then, as he saw signs +of yielding in Maddy's face, he continued: + +"How would you like to turn scholar for a short time each day, I being +your teacher? Time often hangs heavily upon my hands, and I fancy the +novelty of the thing would suit me. I have books. I will appoint your +lessons and the hour for recitation." + +Guy's face was scarlet by the time he finished speaking, for suddenly +he remembered to have heard or read of a similar instance which +resulted in the marriage of the teacher and pupil; besides that it +would subject him to so much remark, when it was known that he, the +fashionable and fastidious Guy, was teaching a pretty, attractive girl +like Maddy Clyde, and he sincerely hoped she would decline. But Maddy +had no such intention. Always in earnest herself, she supposed every +one else meant what they said, and without ever suspecting the +peculiar position in which such a proceeding would place both herself +and Guy, her heart leaped up at the idea of knowing what was in the +books she had never dared hope she might study. With her beautiful +eyes full of tears, which shone like diamonds, as she lifted them to +Guy's face, she said: + + "Oh, I thank you so much. You could not make me happier, and I'll try +so hard to learn. They don't teach such things at the district school; +and when there was a high school in Honedale I could not go, for it +was three dollars a quarter, and grandpa had no three dollars for me. +Uncle Joseph needed help, and so I stayed at home. It's dreadful to be +poor, but, perhaps, I shall some time be competent to teach in a +seminary, and won't that be grand? When may I begin?" + +Guy had never met with so much frankness and simplicity in any one, +unless it were in Lucy Atherstone, of whom Maddy reminded him +somewhat, except that the latter was more practical, more--he hardly +knew what--only there was a difference, and a thought crossed his mind +that if Maddy had had all Lucy's advantages, and was as old, she would +be what the world calls smarter. There was no disparagement to Lucy in +his thoughts, only a compliment to Maddy, who was waiting for him to +answer her question. There was no retracting now; he had offered his +services; she had accepted; and with a mental comment: "I dread Doc's +fun the most, so I'll explain to him how I am educating her for the +future Mrs. Dr. Holbrook," he replied: + +"As soon as I am rested from my journey, or sooner, if you like; and +now tell me, please, who is this Uncle Joseph of whom you speak?" + +He remembered what the doctor had said of a crazy uncle, but wishing +to hear Maddy's version of it, put to her the question he did. + +"Uncle Joseph is grandma's youngest brother," Maddy answered, "and he +has been in the lunatic asylum for years. As long as his little +property lasted, his bills were paid, but now they keep him from +charity, only grandpa helps all he can, and buys some little nice +things which he wants so badly, and sometimes cries for, they say. I +picked berries all last summer, and sold to buy him a thin coat and +pants. We should have more to spend than we do, if it were not for +Uncle Joseph," and Maddy's face wore a thoughtful expression as she +recalled all the shifts and turns she'd seen made at home that the +poor maniac might be more comfortable. + +"What made him crazy?" Guy asked, and after a moment's hesitancy Maddy +replied: "I don't believe grandma would mind my telling you, though +she don't talk about it much. I only knew it a little while ago. He +was disappointed once. He loved a girl very much, and she made him +think that she loved him. She was many years younger than Uncle +Joseph--about my age at first, and when she grew up she said she was +sick of him, because he was so much older. He wouldn't have felt so +badly, if she had not gone straight off and married a rich man who was +a great deal older even than Uncle Joseph; that was the hardest part, +and he grew crazy at once. It has been so long that he never can be +helped, and sometimes grandma talks of bringing him home, as he is +perfectly harmless. I suppose it's wicked, but I most hope she won't, +for it would be terrible to live with a crazy man," and a chill crept +over Maddy, as if there had fallen upon her a foreshadowing of what +might yet be. "Mr. Remington," she continued suddenly, "if you teach +me, I can't, of course, expect three dollars a week. It would not be +right." + +"Perfectly right," he answered. "Your services to Jessie will be worth +just as much as ever, so give yourself no trouble on that score." + +He was the best man that ever lived, Maddy thought, and so she told +the doctor that afternoon when, as he rode up to Aikenside, she met +him out on the lawn before he reached the house. + +It did strike the doctor a little comically that one of Guy's habits +should offer to turn school teacher, but Maddy was so glad, that he +was glad too, and doubly glad that across the sea there was a Lucy +Atherstone. How he wished that she was there now as Mrs. Guy, and he +must tell Guy so that very day. Seated in Guy's library, the +opportunity soon occurred, Guy approaching the subject himself by +saying: + +"Guess, Hal, what crazy project I have just embarked in." + +"I know without guessing; Maddy told me," and the doctor's eyebrows +were elevated just a little as he crossed his feet upon the window +sill and moved his chair so as to have a better view of Maddy and +Jessie romping in the grass. + +"And so you don't approve?" was Guy's next remark, to which the doctor +replied: + +"Why, yes; it's a grand thing for her, providing you know enough to +teach her; but, Guy, this is a confounded gossiping neighborhood, and +folks will talk, I'm afraid." + +"Talk about what!" and Guy bridled up as his independent spirit began +to rise, "What harm is there in my doing a generous act to a poor girl +like Maddy Clyde? Isn't she graceful as a kitten, though?" and Guy +nodded toward the spot where she was playing. + +It annoyed the doctor to have Guy praise Maddy, but he would not show +it, and answered calmly: + +"It's all right in you, but just because the poor girl is Maddy Clyde, +folks will talk. She is too handsome, Guy, for Madam Grundy to let +alone. If Lucy were only here, it would be different. Why, in the name +of wonder, are you two not married, if you are ever going to be?" + +"Jealous, as I live!" and Guy's hand came down playfully on the +doctor's shoulder. "I did not suppose you had got as far as that. You +are afraid of the effect it may have on me teaching a sweet-faced +little girl how to conjugate amo; and to cover up your own interest, +you bring Lucy forward as an argument. Eh, Hal, have I not probed the +secret?" + +The doctor was in no mood for joking, and only smiled gloomily, while +Guy continued: + +"Honestly, doctor, I am doing it for you. I imagine you fancy her, as +well you may. She'll make a splend'd woman, but she needs educating, +of course, and I am going to do it. You ought to thank me, instead of +looking so like a thundercloud," and Guy laughed merrily. + +The doctor was ashamed of his mood, and could not tell what spirit +prompted him to answer: + +"I am obliged to you, Guy; but as far as I am concerned, you may spare +yourself the trouble. If my wife needs educating, I can do it myself." + +Guy was puzzled. Could it be that, after all, he was deceived, and the +doctor did not care for Maddy? It might be, and he hastened to change +the conversation to another topic than Maddy Clyde. The doctor stayed +to dinner, and as Guy watched him closely, he made up his mind that he +did care for Maddy Clyde, and this confirmed him in his plan of +educating her for him. + +Magnanimous Guy! He felt himself very good, very generous, very +condescending, and very forgiving, the early portion of the afternoon; +but later in the day he began to view Guy Remington in the light of a +martyr, said martyrdom consisting in the scornful toss of the head +with which Agnes had listened to his plan, and the open opposition of +Mrs. Noah. + +"Was he beside himself, or what?" this worthy asked. "She liked Maddy +Clyde, to be sure, but it wasn't for him to demean himself by turning +her school master. Folks would talk awfully, and she couldn't blame +'em; besides, what would Lucy say to his bein' alone in a room with a +girl as pretty as Maddy? It was a duty he owed her at any rate to tell +her all about it, and if she said 'twas right, why, go it." + +This was the drift of Mrs. Noah's remarks, and as Guy depended much on +her judgment, he decided to write to Lucy to see if she had the +slightest objections to his teaching Maddy Clyde. Accordingly he wrote +that very night, telling her frankly all he knew concerning Maddy +Clyde, and narrating the circumstances under which he first had met +her, being careful also to repeat what he knew would have weight with +an English girl like Lucy, to wit, that though poor, Maddy's father +and grandfather Clyde had been gentlemen, the one a clergyman, the +other a sea captain. Then he told of her desire for learning, and his +plan to teach her himself, of what the doctor and Mrs. Noah said about +it, and his final determination to consult her. Then he described +Maddy herself, feeling a strange thrill as he told how pure, how +innocent, how artless and beautiful she was, and asked if Lucy feared +aught from his association with her. + +"If you do," he wrote, "you have but to say so, and though I am +committed, I will extricate myself in some way rather than wound you +in the slightest degree." + +It would be some time ere an answer to this letter could be received, +and until such time Guy could not honorably hear Maddy's lessons as he +had agreed to do. But Maddy was not suspicious, and accepting his +trivial excuse, waited patiently, while he, too, waited for the +letter, wondering what it would contain. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +A GENEROUS LETTER. + + +At last the answer came, and it was Maddy who brought it to Guy. She +had been home that day, and on her return had ridden by the office as +Guy had requested her to do. She saw the letter bore a foreign +postmark, also that it was in the delicate handwriting of some female, +but the sight did not affect her in the least. Maddy's heart was far +too heavy that day to care for a trifle, and so placing the letter +carefully in her basket she kept on to Aikenside. + +The letter was decidedly Lucy-ish in all that pertained to her +"dearest darling," her "precious Guy," but when she came to Maddy +Clyde, her true, womanly nature spoke; and Guy, while reading it, felt +how good she was. Of course he might teach Maddy Clyde all he wished +to teach her, and it made Lucy love him better to know that he was +willing to do such things. She wished she was there to help him; they +would open a school for all the poor, but she did not know when mamma +would let her come. That pain in her side was not any better, and her +cough had come earlier this season than last. The physician had +advised a winter in Naples, and they were going before very long. It +would be pleasant there, no doubt, only she should be farther away +from her boy Guy, but she would think of him, oh, so often, teaching +that dear little Maddy Clyde, and she would pray for him, too, just as +she always did. Then followed a few more lines sacred to the lover's +eye, lines which told how pure was the love which sweet Lucy +Atherstone bore for Guy Remington, who, as he read, felt his heart +beat with a throb of pain, for Lucy spoke to him now for the first +time of what might possibly be. + +"I've dreamed about it nights," she said. "I've thought about it days, +and tried so hard to be reconciled; to feel that if God will have it +so, I am willing to die before you have ever called me your little +wife, or I have ever called you husband. Heaven is better than earth, +I know, and I am sure of going there, I think, but oh, dear Guy, a +life with you looks so very sweet, that sometimes your little Lucy +shrinks from the dark grave, which would hide her forever from you. +Guy, you once said you never prayed, and it made me feel so badly, but +you will, when you get this, won't you? You will ask God to make me +well, and may be He will hear you. Do, Guy, please do pray for your +Lucy, far away over the sea." + +Guy could not resist that touching appeal, "to pray for his little +Lucy," and though his lips were all unused to prayer, bowing his head +upon his hands he did ask that she might live, beseeching the Father +to send upon him any calamity save this one--Lucy must be spared. Guy +felt better for having prayed, it was something to tell Lucy, +something that would please her well, and though his heart yet was +very sad, a part of the load was lifted, and he could think of Lucy +now without the bitter pain her letter first had cost him. Was there +nothing that would save her, nobody who could cure her? Her disease +was not hereditary; surely it might be made to yield; had English +physicians no skill, would not an American do better? It was possible, +and if that mother of Lucy's would let her come where doctors knew +something, she might get well; but she wouldn't; she was determined +that no husband should be burdened with an ailing wife, and so if the +mountain would not come to Mahomet, why, Mahomet must go to the +mountain, and Guy fairly leaped from his chair as he exclaimed: "I +have it--Doc!--he's the most skillful man I ever knew; I'll send him +to England; send him to the Atherstones; he shall go to Naples with +them as their family physician; he can cure Lucy; I'll speak to him +the very next time he comes here;" and with another burden lifted from +his mind, Guy began to wonder where Maddy was, and why that day had +been so long. + +He knew she had returned, for Flora had said she brought the letter, +and he was about going out, in hopes of finding her and Jessie, when +he heard her in the hall, as she answered some question of Mrs. +Noah's; stepping to the door, he asked her to come in, saying he +would, if she chose, appoint the lessons talked about so long. +Ordinarily, Maddy's eyes would have flashed with delight, for she had +anticipated so much from these lessons; now, however, there was a sad +look upon her face and she could scarcely keep from crying as she came +at Guy's bidding, and sat upon the sofa, near to his armchair. Somehow +it rested Guy to look at Maddy Clyde, who, having recovered from her +illness, seemed the very embodiment of perfect health, a health which +glowed and sparkled all over her bright face; showing itself as well +in the luxuriance of her glossy hair as in the brilliancy of her +complexion, and the flash of her lustrous eyes. How Guy wished that +Lucy could share in what seemed almost superfluity of health; and why +shouldn't she? Dr. Holbrook had cured Maddy; Dr. Holbrook could cure +Lucy; and so for the present dismissing that from his mind, he turned +to Maddy, and said the time had come when he could give those promised +lessons, asking if she would commence to-morrow, after she was through +with Jessie, and what she would prefer to take up first? + +"Oh, Mr. Remington," and Maddy began to cry: "I am afraid I cannot +stay they need me at home, or maybe Grandpa said so and I don't want +to go, though I know it's wicked not to; oh, dear, dear!" + +Here Maddy broke down entirely, sobbing so convulsively that Guy +became alarmed, and wondered what he ought to do to quiet her. As she +sat the bowed head was just within his reach, and so he very naturally +laid his hand upon it, and as if it had been Jessie's smoothed the +silken hair, while he asked why she must go home. Had anything +occurred to make her presence more necessary than it was at Aikenside? +and into the young man's heart there crept a feeling that Aikenside +would be very lonely without Maddy Clyde. + +Controlling her voice as well as she was able, Maddy told him how the +physicians at the asylum had written that as Uncle Joseph would in all +human probability never be perfectly sane, and as a change of scene +would do him good, Mr. Markham had better try taking him a while; that +having been spoken with upon the subject, he seemed as anxious as a +little child, even crying when the night came around and he was not at +home, as he expressed it. "They have kept him so long," Maddy said, +"that grandpa thought it his duty to relieve them, though he can't +well afford it, and so he's coming next week, and grandma will need +some one to help, and I must go. I know it's wrong, but I do not want +to go, try as I will" + +It was a gloomy prospect to exchange Aikenside for the humble home +where poverty had its abode, and it was not very strange that Maddy +should shrink from it at first. She did not stop to ask what was her +duty, or think how much happiness her presence might give her +grandparents, or how much she might cheer and amuse the weak imbecile, +her uncle. She was but human, and so when Guy began to devise ways of +preventing her going, she listened, while the pain at her heart grew +less as her faith in Guy grew stronger. He would drive down with her +to-morrow, he said, and see what could be done. Meanwhile she must dry +her eyes and go to Jessie, who was calling her. + +As Guy had half expected, the doctor came around that evening, and +inviting him into his private room, Guy proceeded at once to unfold +his scheme, asking him first: + +"How much he probably received a year for his services as physician." + +The doctor could not tell at once, but after a little thought made an +estimate, and then inquired why Guy had asked the question. + +"Because, Doc, I have a project on foot. Lucy Atherstone is dying with +what they call consumption. I don't believe those old fogies +understand her disease, and if you will go over to England and +undertake her cure, I'll give you just double what you'll get by +remaining here. They are going to Naples for the winter, and, +undoubtedly, will spend some time in Paris. It will be just the thing +for you. Lucy and her mother will be glad of your services when they +know I sent you, Lucy likes you now. Will you go? You can trust Maddy +to me. I'll take good care that she is worthy of you when you come +back." + +At the mention of Maddy's name, the doctor's brow darkened. He was +sure that Guy meant kindly, but it grated on his feelings to be thus +joked about what he knew was a stern reality. Guy's project appeared +to him at first a most insane one, but as he continued to enlarge upon +it, and the advantage it would be to the doctor to travel in the old +world, a feeling of enthusiasm was kindled in his own breast; a desire +to visit Naples and France, and the places he had dreamed of as a boy, +but never hoped to see, Guy's plan began to look more feasible, and +possibly he might have yielded but for one thought, and that a thought +of Maddy Clyde. He would not leave her alone with Guy, even though Guy +was true to Lucy as steel. He would stay; he would watch; and in time +he would win the young girl waiting now for him in the hall below, +waiting to tell him 'mid blushes of shame and tears of regret how she +had meant to pay him with her very first wages, but now, Uncle Joseph +was coming home, and he must wait a little longer. + +"Would he, could he be so good?" and unmindful of Guy's presence Maddy +laid her hand confidingly upon his arm, while her soft eyes looked +beseechingly into his. + +How the doctor wished Guy was away, and kindly taking the hint, Guy +left them together in the lighted hall. Sitting down on the sofa, and +making Maddy sit beside him, the doctor began: + +"Maddy, you know I mean what I say, at least to you, and when I tell +you that I never think of that bill except when you speak of it, you +will believe me. I know your grandfather's circumstances, and I know, +too, that I did much to induce your sickness, consequently if I made +one out at all, it would be a very small one." + +He did not get any further, for Maddy hastily interrupted him, and +while her eyes flashed with pride, exclaimed: + +"I will not be a charity patient! I say I will not! I'd be a hired +girl before I'd do it!" + +It troubled the doctor to see Maddy so disturbed about dollars and +cents--to know that poverty was pressing its iron hand upon her young +heart; and only because she was so young did he refrain from offering +her then and there a resting place from the ills of life in his +sheltering love. But she was not prepared, and he should only defeat +his object by his rashness, so he restrained himself, though he did +pass his arm partly around her waist as he said to her: + +"I tell you, Maddy, honestly, that when I want that bill liquidated +I'll ask you. I certainly will, and I'll let you pay it, too. Does +that satisfy you?" + +Yes, Maddy was satisfied, and after a little the doctor continued: + +"By the way, Maddy, I have some idea of going to Europe for a few +months, or a year or more. You know it does a physician good to study +awhile in Paris. What do you think of it? Shall I go?" + +The doctor had become quite necessary to Maddy's happiness. He it was +to whom she confided all her little troubles, and to lose him would be +a terrible loss, and so she answered that if it would be much better +for him she supposed he ought to go, though she should miss him sadly +and be so lonely without him. + +"Would you, Maddy? Are you in earnest? Would you be lonelier for my +being gone?" the doctor asked, eagerly. With her usual truthfulness, +Maddy replied: "Of course I should;" and, when, after the conference +was ended, the doctor stood for a moment talking with Guy, ere bidding +him good-night, he said: "I think I shall not accept your European +proposition. Somebody else must cure Lucy." + +The next day, as Guy had proposed, he rode down to Honedale, taking +Maddy with him, and offering so many reasons why she should not be +called home, that the old people began to relent, particularly as they +saw how Maddy's heart was set on the lessons Guy was going to give +her. She might never have a like opportunity, the young man said, and +as a good education would put her fa the way of helping them when they +were older and needed her more, it was their duty to leave her with +them. He knew they objected to her receiving three dollars a week, but +he should pay it just the same, and if they chose they might, with a +part of it, hire a little girl to do the work which Maddy would do +were she at home. All this sounded very feasible, especially as it was +backed up by Maddy's eyes, brimful of tears, and fixed pleadingly upon +her grandfather. The sight of them, more than Guy's arguments, +influenced the old man, who decided that if grandma were willing Maddy +should stay, unless absolutely needed at the cottage. Then the tears +burst forth, and winding her arms around her grandfather's neck, Maddy +sobbed out her thanks, asking if it were selfish and wicked and +naughty in her to prefer learning rather than staying there. + +"Not if that's your only reason," grandpa replied. "It's right to want +learning, quite right; but, if my child is biased by the fine things +at Aikenside, and hates to come back to her poor home, because 'tis +poor, I should say it was very natural, but not exactly right." + +Maddy was very happy after it was settled, and chatted gayly with her +grandmother, while Guy went out with her grandfather, who wished to +speak with him alone. + +"Young man," he said, "you have taken a deep interest in me and mine +since I first came to know you, and I thank you for it all. I've +nothing to give in return except my prayers, and those you have every +day; you and that doctor. I pray for you two just as I do for Maddy. +Somehow you three come in together. You're uncommon good to Maddy. +'Tain't every one like you who would offer and insist on learning her. +I don't know what you do it for. You seem honest. You can't, of +course, ever dream of making her your wife, and, if I thought--yes, if +I supposed"--here grandpa's voice trembled, and his face became a +livid hue with the horror of the idea--"if I supposed that in your +heart there was the shadow of an intention to deceive my child, to +ruin my Maddy, I'd throttle you here on the spot, old as I am, and +bitterly as I should repent the rashness." + +Guy attempted to speak, but grandpa motioned him to be silent, while +he went on: + +"I do not suspect you, and that's why I trust her with you. My old +eyes are dim, but I can see enough to know that Maddy is beautiful. +Her mother was so before her, and the Clydes were a handsome race. My +Alice was elevated, folks thought, by marrying Captain Clyde, but I +don't think so. She was pure and good as the angels, and Maddy is much +like her, only she has the ambition of the Clydes: has their taste for +everything a little above her. She wouldn't make nobody blush if she +was mistress of Aikenside." + +Grandpa felt relieved when he had said all this to Guy, who listened +politely, smiling at the idea of his deceiving Maddy, and fully +concurring with grandpa in all he said of her rare beauty and natural +gracefulness. On their return to the house grandpa showed Guy the +bedroom intended for Uncle Joseph, and Guy, as he glanced at the +furniture, though within himself how he would send down from Aikenside +some of the unused articles piled away on the garret when he +refurnished his house. He was becoming greatly interested in the +Markhams, caring nothing for the remarks his interest might excite +among the neighbors, some of whom watched Maddy half curiously as in +the stylish carriage, beside its stylish owner, she rode back to +Aikenside in the quiet, autumnal afternoon. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +UNCLE JOSEPH. + + +In course of time Uncle Joseph came as was arranged, and on the day +following Maddy and Guy rode down to see him, finding him a tall, +powerfully built man, retaining many vestiges of manly beauty, and +fully warranting all Mrs. Markham had said in his praise. He seemed +perfectly gentle and harmless, though when Guy was announced as Mr. +Remington, Maddy noticed that in his keen black eyes there was for an +instant a fiery gleam, but it quickly passed away, as he muttered: + +"Much too young; he was older than I, and I am over forty. It's all +right." + +And the fiery eye grew soft and almost sleepy in its expression, as +the poor lunatic turned next to Maddy, telling her how pretty she was, +asking if she were engaged, and bidding her be careful that her +_fiance_ was not more than a dozen years older than herself. + +Uncle Joseph seemed to take to her from the very first, following her +from room to room, touching her fair, soft cheeks, smoothing her +silken hair, telling her Sarah's used to curl, asking if she knew +where Sarah was, and finally crying for her as a child cries for its +mother, when at last she went away. Much of this Maddy had repeated to +Jessie, as in the twilight they sat together in the parlor at +Aikenside; and Jessie was not the only listener, for, with her face +resting on her hand, and her head bent eagerly forward, Agnes sat, so +as not to lose a word of what Maddy was saying of Uncle Joseph. The +intelligence that he was coming to the red cottage had been followed +with a series of headaches, so severe and protracted that Dr. Holbrook +had pronounced her really sick, and had been unusually attentive. +Anxiously she had waited for the result of Maddy's visit to the poor +lunatic, and her face was colorless as marble as she heard him +described, while a faint sigh escaped her when Maddy told what he had +said of Sarah. + +Agnes was changed somewhat of late. She had grown more thoughtful and +quiet, while her manner toward Maddy was not as haughty as formerly. +Guy thought her improved, and thus was not so delighted as he would +otherwise have been, when, one day, about two weeks after Uncle +Joseph's arrival at Honedale, she startled him by saying she thought +it nearly time for her to return to Boston, if she meant to spend the +winter there, and asked what she should do with Jessie. + +Guy was not quite willing for Agnes to leave him there alone, but when +he saw that she was determined, he consented to her going, with the +understanding that Jessie was to remain--a plan which Agnes did not +oppose, as a child so large as Jessie might stand in the way of her +being as gay as she meant to be in Boston. Jessie, too, when +consulted, said she would far rather stay at Aikenside; and so one +November morning, Agnes, wrapped in velvet and furs, kissed her little +daughter, and bidding good-by to Maddy and the servants, left a +neighborhood which, since Uncle Joseph was so near, had become so +intolerable that not even the hope of winning the doctor could avail +to keep her in it. + +Guy accompanied her to the city, wondering why, when he used to like +it so much, it now seemed dull and tiresome, or why the society he had +formerly enjoyed failed to bring back the olden pleasure he had +experienced when a resident of Boston. Guy was very popular there, and +much esteemed by his friends of both sexes, and great were the efforts +made to entertain and keep him as long as possible. But Guy could not +be prevailed upon to stay there long, and after seeing Agnes settled +in one of the most fashionable boarding houses, he started for +Aikenside. + +It was dark when he reached home, and as the evening had closed in +with a heavy rain, the house presented rather a cheerless appearance, +particularly as, in consequence of Mrs. Noah's not expecting him that +day, no fires had been kindled in the parlors, or in any room except +the library. There a bright coal fire was blazing in the grate, and +thither Guy repaired, finding, as he had expected, Jessie and her +teacher. Not liking to intrude on Mr. Guy, of whom she still stood +somewhat in awe, Maddy soon arose to leave, but Guy bade her stay; he +should be lonely without her, he said, and so bringing her work she +sat down to sew, while Jessie looked over a book of prints, and Guy +upon the lounge studied the face which, it seemed to him, grew each +day more and more beautiful. Then he talked with her of books, and the +lessons which were to be resumed on the morrow, watching Maddy as her +bright face sparkled and glowed with excitement. Then he questioned +her of her father's family, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction in +knowing that the Clydes were not a race of whose blood any one need be +ashamed; and Maddy was more like them he was sure than like the +Markhams, and Guy shivered a little as he recalled the peculiar +dialect of Mr. and Mrs. Markham, and remembered that they were Maddy's +grandparents. Not that it was anything to him. Oh, no, only as an +inmate of his family he felt interested in her, more so perhaps than +young men were apt to be interested in their sister's governess. + +Had Guy then been asked the question, he would, in all probability, +have acknowledged that in his heart there was a feeling of superiority +to Maddy Clyde; that she was not quite the equal of Aikenside's heir, +nor yet of Lucy Atherstone. It was natural; he had been educated to +feel the difference, but any haughty arrogance of which he might have +been guilty was kept down by his extreme good sense and generous, +impulsive nature. He liked Maddy; he liked to look at her as, in the +becoming crimson merino which he really and Jessie nominally had given +her, she sat before him, with the firelight falling on her beautiful +hair, and making shadows on her sunny face. + +Guy was luxurious in his tastes, and it seemed to him that Maddy was +just the picture to set off that room, or in fact all the rooms at +Aikenside. She would disgrace none of them, and he found himself +wishing that Providence had made her something to him--sister or +cousin, or anything that would make her one of the Remington line. + +And now, my reader, do not fall to abusing Guy, or accuse him of +forgetting Lucy Atherstone, for he did not. He thought of her many +times that evening, and in his dreams that night Lucy and Maddy shared +pretty equally, but the latter was associated with the lessons of the +morrow, while Lucy was the bright daystar for which he lived and +hoped. + +It did not take long for the people of Sommerville to hear that Guy +Remington had actually turned schoolmaster, having in his library for +two hours or more each day Jessie's little girl-governess, about whose +brilliant beauty there was so much said--people wondering, as people +will, where it would end, and if it could be possible that the haughty +Guy had forgotten his English Lucy and gone to educating a wife. + +The doctor, to whom these remarks were sometimes made, silently +gnashed his teeth, then said savagely that "if Guy chose to teach +Maddy Clyde, he did not see whose business it was," and then rode over +to Aikenside to see the teacher and pupil, half hoping that Guy would +soom tire of his project and give it up. But Guy grew more and more +pleased with his employment, until, at last, from giving Maddy two +hours of his time, he came to give her four, esteeming them the +pleasantest of the whole twenty-four. Guy was proud of Maddy's +improvement, praising her often to the doctor, who also marveled at +the rapid development of her mind and the progress she made, grasping +a knotty point almost before it was explained, and retaining with +wonderful tenacity what she learned. + +It mattered nothing to Guy that neighbors gossiped there were none +familiar enough to tell him what was said, except the doctor or Mrs. +Noah; and so he heard few of the remarks made so frequently, As in +Honedale, so in Sommerville Maddy was a favorite, and those who +interested themselves most in the matter never said anything worse of +her and Mr. Guy than that he might perhaps be educating his own wife, +and insinuating that it would be a great "come up" for Grandfather +Markham's child. But Maddy never dreamed of such a thing, and kept on +her pleasant way, reciting every day to Guy and going every Wednesday +to the red cottage, whither, after the first visit to Uncle Joseph, +Guy never accompanied her. Jessie, on the contrary, went often to +Honedale, where one at least always greeted her coming, stealing up +closely to her, and whispering softly: "My Daisy is come again." + +From the first Uncle Joseph had taken to Jessie, calling her Sarah for +a while, and then changing the name to "Daisy"--"Daisy Mortimer, his +little girl," he persisted in calling her, watching from his window +for her coming, and crying whenever Maddy appeared without her. At +first Agnes, from her city home, forbade Jessie's going so often to +see a lunatic; but when Jessie described the poor, crazy man's delight +at sight of her, telling how quiet and happy he seemed if he could but +lay his hand on her head, or touch her hair, she withdrew her +restrictions, and, as if moved to an unwonted burst of tenderness, +wrote to her daughter: "Comfort that crazy man all you can; he needs +it so much." + +A few weeks after there came another letter from Agnes, but this time +it was to Guy, and its contents darkened his handsome face with anger +and vexation. Incidentally Agnes had heard the gossip, and written it +to Guy, adding in conclusion: "Of course I know it is not true, for +ever if there were no Lucy Atherstone, you, of all men, would not +stoop to Maddy Clyde. I do not presume to advise, but I will say this, +that now she is growing a young lady, folks will keep on talking so +long as you keep her there in the house; and it's hardly fair toward +Lucy." + +This was what knotted up Guy's forehead and made him, as Jessie said, +"real cross for once." Somehow, he fancied, latterly, that the doctor +did not like Maddy's being there, while even Mrs. Noah managed to keep +her out of his way as soon as the lessons were ended. What did they +mean? what were they afraid of, and why did they presume to interfere +with him? he'd know, at all events; and summoning Mrs. Noah to his +presence, he read that part of Agnes' letter, pertaining to Maddy, and +then asked what it meant. + +"It means this, that folks are in a constant worry, for fear you'll +fall in love with Maddy Clyde." + +"I fall in love with that child!" Guy repeated, laughing at the idea, +and forgetting that he had long since, accused the doctor of doing +that very thing. + +"Yes, you," returned Mrs. Noah, "and 'taint strange they do; Maddy is +not a child: she's nearer sixteen than fifteen, is almost a young +lady; and if you'll excuse my boldness, I must say, I ain't any too +well pleased with the goin's on myself; not that I don't like the +girl, for I do, and I don't blame her an atom. She's as innocent as a +new-born babe, and I hope she'll always stay so; but you, Mr. Guy, +you--now tell me honest--do you think as much of Lucy Atherstone, as +you used to, before you took up school-keepin'?" + +Guy did not like to be interfered with, and naturally high-spirited, +he at first flew into a passion, declaring that he would not have +folks meddling with him, that he thought of Lucy Atherstone all the +time, and he did not know what more he could do; that 'twas a pity if +a man could not enjoy himself in his own way, provided that way were +harmless, that he'd never, in all his life, spent so happy a winter as +the last; that--- + +Here Mrs. Noah interrupted him with: "That's it, the very _it_; +you want nothing better than to have that girl sit close to you when +she recites, as she does; and once when she was workin' out some of +them plusses and minuses, and things, her slate rested on your knee; +it did, I saw it with my own eyes; and then, let me ask, when Jessie +is drummin' on the piano, why don't you bend over her, and turn the +leaves, and count the time, as you do when Maddy plays; and how does +it happen that lately Jessie is one too many, when you hear Maddy's +lessons. She has no suspicions, but I know she ain't sent off for +nothin'; I know you'd rather be alone with Maddy Clyde than to have +anybody present, isn't it so?" + +Guy began to wince. There was much truth in what Mrs. Noah had said. +He did devise various methods of getting rid of Jessie, when Maddy was +in his library, but it had never looked to him in just the light it +did when presented by Mrs. Noah, and he doggedly asked what Mrs. Noah +would have him do. + +"First and foremost, then, I'd have you tell Maddy yourself that you +are engaged to Lucy Atherstone; second, I'd have you write to Lucy all +about it, and if you honestly can, tell her that you only care for +Maddy as a friend; third, I'd have you send the girl---" + +"Not away from Aikenside! I never will!" and Guy sprang to his feet. + +The mine had exploded, and for an instant the young man reeled, as he +caught a glimpse of where he stood; still he would not believe it, or +confess to himself how strong a place in his affections was held by +the beautiful girl now no longer a child. It was almost a year since +that April afternoon when he first met Maddy Clyde, and from a timid, +bashful child, of fourteen and a half, she had grown to the rather +tall, and rather self-possessed maiden of fifteen and a half, almost +sixteen, as Mrs. Noah said, "almost a woman;" and as if to verify the +latter fact, she herself appeared at that very moment, asking +permission to come in and find a book, which had been mislaid, and +which she needed in hearing Jessie's lessons. + +"Certainly, come in," Guy said, and folding his arms he leaned against +the mantel, watching her as she hunted for the missing book. + +There was no pretense about Maddy Clyde, nothing put on for effect, +and yet in every movement she showed marks of great improvement, both +in manner and style. Of one hundred people who might glance at her, +ninety-nine would look a second time, asking who she was. Naturally +graceful and utterly forgetful of herself, she always appeared to good +advantage, and never to better than now, when two pairs of eyes were +watching her, as standing on tiptoe, or kneeling upon the floor to +look under the secretary, she hunted for the book. Not the remotest +suspicion had Maddy of what was occupying the thoughts of her +companions, though as she left the room and glanced brightly up at +Guy, it struck her that his face was dark and moody, and a painful +sensation flitted through her mind that in some way she had intruded. + +"Well," was Mrs. Noah's first comment, as the door closed on Maddy, +but as Guy made no response to that, she continued: "She is pretty. +That you won't deny." + +"Yes, more than pretty. She'll make a most beautiful woman." + +Guy seemed to talk more to himself than to Mrs. Noah, while his foot +kicked the fender, and he mentally compared Lucy and Maddy with each +other, and tried to think that it was not the result of that +comparison, but rather Mrs. Noah's next remark, which affected him +unpleasantly. The remark or remarks were as follows: + +"Of course she'll make a splendid woman. Everybody notices her now for +her beauty, and that's why you've no business to keep her here where +you see her every day. It's a wrong to her, lettin' yourself alone." + +Guy looked up inquiringly, and Mrs. Noah continued: + +"I've been a girl myself, and I know that Maddy can't be treated as +you treat her without its having an effect. I've no idea that it's +entered her head yet, but it will by-and-by, and then good-by to her +happiness." + +"For pity's sake, what do you mean? Do explain, and not talk to me in +riddles. What have I done to Maddy, or what am I going to do?" + +Gay spoke savagely, and his boots were in great danger of being burned +as he kicked vigorously against the fender. Coming nearer to him, and +lowering her voice, Mrs. Noah replied: + +"You are going to teach her to love you, Guy Remington, just as sure +as my name is Noah." + +"And is that anything so very bad, I'd like to know. Most girls do not +find love distasteful," and Guy walked hastily to the window, where he +stood for a moment gazing out upon the soft April snow, which was +falling, and feeling anything but satisfied either with the weather or +himself; then walking back, and taking a seat before the fire, he +said: "I understand you now. You would save Maddy Clyde from sorrow, +and you are right. You know more of girls than I do. She might in time +get to--to--think of me as she ought not. I never looked upon it in +this light before. I've been so happy with her;" here Guy's voice +faltered a little, but he recovered himself and went on: "I will tell +her about Lucy tonight, but the sending her away, I can't do that. +Neither will she be happy to go back where I took her from, for though +the best of people, they are not like Maddy, and you know it." + +Yes, Mrs. Noah did know it, and pleased that her boy, as she called +Guy, had shown some signs of penitence and amendment, she said she did +not think it necessary to send Maddy home; she did not advise it +either. She liked the girl, and what she advised was this, that Guy +should send Maddy and Jessie both to boarding school. Agnes, she knew, +would be willing, and it was the best thing he could do. Maddy would +thus learn what was expected of a teacher, and as soon as she +graduated, she could procure some eligible situation, or if Lucy were +there, and desired it, she could come and stay forever for all what +sue cared, + +"And during the vacations, where must she go then?" Guy asked. + +"Go where she pleases, of course. As Jessie is so fond of her, and +they are much like sisters, it will not be improper for her to come +here, as I see, provided Agnes is here. Her presence, of course, would +make a difference," Mrs. Noah replied, while Guy continued: + +"I know you are right; that is, I do not wish to do Maddy a harm by +placing temptation in her way, neither will I have everybody meddling +with my business. I tell you I won't. I don't mean you, for you have a +right to say what no one else has," and he glanced half angrily at +Mrs. Noah. "Pity if I can't take an interest in a girl, because I once +wronged her, without every old woman in Christendom thinking she needs +to fall in love with me, and so be ruined for life. Maddy Clyde has +too good sense for that, or will have when I tell her about Lucy." + +"And you will do so?" Mrs. Noah said coaxingly. + +"Of course I will, and write to Lucy, too, telling her how you talked, +and how I care no more for Maddy than I do for Jessie." + +"And will that be true?" Mrs. Noah asked. + +Guy could not look her fully in the face then, so he kicked the grate +until the concussion sent the red-hot coals out upon the carpet as he +replied: + +"True? Yes, every word of it." + +Mrs. Noah noted all this, and thinking within herself: + +"I orto have took him in hand long ago," she came up to him and said +kindly, soothingly: "We shall all miss Maddy; I as much as any one, +but I do think it best for her to go to school; and so, after tea, +I'll manage to keep Jessie with me, and send Maddy to you, while you +tell her about Lucy and the plan." + +Guy nodded a little jerking kind of a nod, in token of his assent, and +then with that perversity which prompts women particularly to press a +subject after enough has been said upon it, Mrs. Noah, as she turned +to leave the room, gave vent to the following: + +"You know, Guy, as well as I, that pretty and smart as she is, Maddy +is really beneath you, and no kind of a match, even if you wan't as +good as married, which you be;" and the good lady left the room in +time to escape seeing the sparks fly up the chimney, as Guy now made a +most vigorous use of the poker, and so did not finish the scorching +process commenced on the end of his boot. + +Mrs. Noah's last remark awakened in Guy a Singular train of thought. +Yes, Maddy was his inferior as the world saw matters, and settling +himself in the chair he tried to fancy what that same world would say +if he should make Maddy his wife. Of course he had no such intention, +he was just imagining something which never could possibly happen, +because in the first place he wouldn't marry Maddy Clyde if he could, +and he couldn't if he would! Still, it was not an unpleasant +occupation fancying what folks, and especially Agnes, would say if he +did, and so he sat dreaming about it until the bell rang for supper, +when with a nervous start he woke from the reverie, and wishing the +whole was over, started for the supper. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +MADDY AND LUCY. + + +Supper was over, and Guy was back again in his library. He had not +stopped as he usually did, to romp with Jessie or talk to Maddy Clyde, +until it was so dark that he could not see her sparkling face, but had +come directly back, dropping the heavy curtains and piling fresh coal +upon the fire. Mrs. Noah had lighted the lamps and then gone after +Maddy, explaining to Jessie how she must stay with her while Maddy +went to Mr. Guy, who wanted to talk with her. + +"Is he angry with me, Mrs. Noah?" and remembering his moody looks when +she went in quest of the book, Maddy felt her heart misgive her as to +what might be the result of an interview with Guy. + +Mrs. Noah, however, reassured her, and Maddy stole for a moment to her +own room to see how she was looking. The crimson dress, with its soft +edge of lace about the slender throat, became her well, and smoothing +the folds of her black silk apron, whose jaunty shoulder pieces gave +her a very girlish appearance, she went down to where Guy was waiting +for her. He heard her coming, and involuntarily drew nearer to him the +chair where he intended she should sit. But Maddy took instead a +stool, and leaning her elbow on the chair, turned her face fully +toward him, waiting for him to speak. + +"Maddy," he began, "are you happy here at Aikenside?" + +"Oh, yes, very, very happy," and Maddy's soft eyes shone with the +happiness she tried to express. + +It was at least a minute before he spoke again, and when he did, it +came out how he had concluded it best to send her and Jessie to +school, for a year or two at least; not that he was tired of teaching +her, but it would be better for her, he thought, to mingle with other +girls and learn the ways of the world. Aikenside would still be her +home, still the place where her vacations would be spent with Jessie +if she chose, and then he spoke of New York as the place he had in +view, and asked her what she thought of it. + +Maddy was too much stunned to think of anything at first. That the +good she had coveted most should be placed within her grasp, and by +Guy Remington too, was almost too much to credit. She was happy at +Aikenside, but she had never expected her life there to continue very +long, and had often wished that when it ended she might devise some +means of entering a seminary as other young ladies did. But she had +never dreamed of being sent to school by Guy, nor could she conceive +of his motive. He hardly knew himself, only he liked her, and wished +to do something for her. This was his reply to her tearful question: + +"Oh, Mr. Remington, you are so good to me; what makes you?" + +He liked her, and all over Maddy's face there spread a beautiful flush +as the words rang in her ears. And then she told Guy how much she +wished to be a teacher, and so take care of her grandparents and her +poor Uncle Joseph. It seemed almost cruel for that young creature to +be burdened with the care of those three half-helpless people, and Guy +shuddered just as he usually did when he associated Maddy with them, +but when he listened while she told him of all the castles she had +built, and in every one of which there was a place for "our folks," as +she termed them, it was more in the form of a blessing than a caress +that his hand rested on her shining hair. + +"You are a good girl, Maddy," he said, "and I am glad now that I have +concluded to send you where you can be better fitted for the office +you mean to fill than you could be here, but I shall miss you sadly. I +like little girls, and though you can hardly be classed there now, you +seem to me much like Jessie, and I take pleasure in doing for you as I +would for her. Maddy---" + +Guy stopped, uncertain what to say next, while Maddy's eyes again +looked up inquiringly. + +He was going now to tell "the little girl much like Jessie" of Lucy +Atherstone, and the words would not come at first. + +"Maddy," he said, again blushing guiltily, "I have said I liked you, +and so I hope will some one else. I have written of you to her." + +Up to this point Maddy had a vague idea that he meant the doctor, but +the "her" dispelled that thought, and a most inexplicable feeling of +numbness crept over her as she asked faintly: + +"Written to whom?" + +Guy did not look at Maddy. He only knew that her head moved out from +beneath his hand as he replied: + +"To Miss Atherstone--Miss Lucy Atherstone. Have you never heard of +her?" + +No, Maddy never had, and with that same numbness she could not +understand, she listened while Guy told her who Lucy Atherstone was, +and why she was not at that moment the mistress of Aikenside. There +was no reason why Guy should be excited, but he was, and he talked +very rapidly, never once glancing at Maddy until he had finished +speaking. She was looking at him intently, wondering if he could hear +as she did the beatings of her heart. Had her life depended upon it, +she could not at first have spoken, for the numbness which, like bands +of steel, seemed to press all the feeling out of it. She did not know +why it was that hearing of Lucy Atherstone should affect her so. +Surely she ought to be glad for Guy that he possessed the love of so +sweet a creature as he described her to be. He was glad, she knew, he +talked so energetically--so much as if it were a pleasure to talk; and +she was glad, too, only it had taken her so by surprise to know that +Mr. Guy, whom she had rather considered as exclusively her own and +Jessie's was engaged, and that some time, before long it might be, +Aikenside would really have a mistress. She did not quite understand +Guy's last words, although she was looking at him, and he asked her +twice if she would like to see Lucy's picture ere she comprehended +what he meant. + +"Yes," came faintly from the parted lips, about which there was a +slight quiver as she put up her hand to take the case Guy drew from +his bosom. + +Turning it to the light she gazed silently upon the sweet young face, +which seemed to return her gaze with a look as earnest and lifelike as +her own. + +"What do you think of her--of my Lucy? Is she not pretty?" Guy asked, +bending down so that his dark hair swept against Maddy's, while his +warm breath touched her burning cheeks. + +"Yes, she's beautiful, oh! so beautiful, and happy, too. I wish I had +been like her. I wish--" and Maddy burst into a most uncontrollable +fit of weeping, her tears dropping like rain upon the inanimate +features of Lucy Atherstone. + +Guy looked at her amazed, his own heart throbbing with a keen pang of +something undefinable as he listened to her stormy weeping. What did +ail her? he wondered. Could it be that the evil against which he was +providing had really come upon her? Was Maddy more interested in him +than he supposed? He hoped not, though with a man's vanity he felt a +slight thrill of satisfaction in thinking that it might be so. Guy +knew this feeling was not worthy of him, and he struggled to cast it +off, while he asked Maddy why she cried. + +Child as she was, the real cause of her tears never entered her brain, +and she answered: + +"I can't tell why, unless I was thinking how different Miss Atherstone +is from me. She's rich and handsome. I am poor and homely, and--" + +"No, Maddy, you are not;" and Guy interrupted her. + +Gently lifting up her head, he smoothed back her hair, and keeping a +hand on each side of her face, said, pleasantly: + +"You are not homely. I think you quite as pretty as Lucy; I do, +really," he continued, as her eyes kindled at the compliment. "I am +going to write to her to-night, and shall tell her more about you. I +want you to like each other very much when she comes, so that you may +live with us. Aikenside would not be Aikenside without you, Maddy." + +In all his wooings of Lucy Atherstone, Guy's voice had never been +tenderer in its tone than when he said this to Maddy, whose lip +quivered again, and who involuntarily laid her head now upon his knee +as she cried a second time, not noisily, but quietly, softly, as if +this crying did her good. For several minutes they sat there thus, the +nature of their thoughts known only to each other, for neither spoke, +until Maddy, half ashamed of her emotions, lifted up her head, and +said: + +"I do not know what made me cry, only I'd been so happy here that I +guess I'd come to think that you only liked Jessie and me. Of course I +knew that some time you would see and think all the world of somebody +else, but I did not expect it so soon. I am afraid Miss Atherstone +will not fancy me, and I know most I shall not feel as free here, +after she comes, as I do now. Then your being so good, sending me to +school, helped me to cry more, and so I was very foolish. Don't tell +Miss Atherstone that I cried. Tell her, though, how beautiful she is, +and how glad I am that she loves you, and is going to be your wife." + +Maddy's voice was very steady in its tone. She evidently meant what +she said, but Guy, the bad man, did not feel as graciously as he ought +to have felt in knowing that Maddy Clyde was glad "Lucy loved him, and +was to be his wife," + +Guy was rather uncomfortable, and as Maddy was in some way associated +with his discomfort, he did not oppose her when she arose to leave +him. + +Had Maddy been more a woman, or less a child, she would have seen that +it was well for her to know of Lucy Atherstone before her feelings for +Guy Remington had assumed a definite form. As it was, she never +dreamed how near she was to loving Aikenside's young heir; and while +talking with Jessie of the grand times they should have at school, she +marveled at that little round spot of pain which was burning at her +heart, or why she should wish that Guy would not speak of her in his +letter to Lucy Atherstone. + +But Guy did speak of her, frankly confessing the interest he felt in +her, telling just how people were beginning to talk, and asking Lucy +if she cared, declaring that if she did, he would not see Maddy Clyde +any more than was necessary. In a little less than four weeks there +came an answer from Lucy, who, with health somewhat improved, had +returned to England, and wrote to Guy from Brighton, where she +expected to spend the summer, half hoping Guy might join her there, +though she could not urge it, as mamma still insisted that she was not +able to take upon herself the duties of a wife. Then she spoke of +Maddy Clyde, saying "She was not one bit jealous of her dear Guy, Of +course ignorant, meddling people, of whom she feared there were a +great many in America, would gossip, but he was not to mind them." +Then she said that if Maddy were willing, she would so much like her +picture, as she had a curiosity to know just how she looked, and if +Maddy pleased, "would she write a few lines, so as not to seem so much +a stranger?" + +Lucy Atherstone had been educated to think a great deal of birth, and +blood, and family, and Guy never did a wiser thing than when he told +her that according to English views, Maddy was a lady. It went far +toward reconciling Lucy to his interest in one whom her haughtier and +more sanguine mother called a rival, advising her mother to ignore her +altogether. But Lucy's was a different nature, and though it cost her +pride a pang, she asked for a line from Maddy, partly to mortify that +pride, and partly to prove to Guy how free she was from jealousy. + +"Darling little Lucy, I do love her very dearly," was Guy's comment, +as he finished reading her letter, feeling somewhat as if her mother +were a kind of cruel ogress, bent on preventing him from being happy. +Then, as he remembered Lucy's hope that he might join her, and thought +how much easier of access New York was than Brighton, he said, half +petulantly: + +"I've been to England for nothing times enough. When that mother of +hers says I may have Lucy, I'll go again, but not before. It don't +pay." + +And crushing the letter into his pocket, he went out upon the piazza +where were assembled Maddy, Jessie and Mrs. Agnes, the latter of whom +had come to Aikenside the day before. + +At first she had objected to the boarding-school arrangement, saying +Jessie was too young, but Guy as usual had overruled her objections, +as he had those of Grandpa Markham, and it was now a settled thing +that Maddy and Jessie both should go to New York, Mrs. Agnes to +accompany them if she chose, and having a general supervision of her +child. This was Guy's plan, the one which had prevailed with the +fashionable woman, who, tired of Boston, was well pleased with the +prospect of a life in New York. Guy's interest in Maddy was wholly +inexplicable to her, unless she explained it on the principal that in +the Remington nature there was a fondness for governesses, as had been +exemplified in her own history. That Guy would ever marry Maddy she +doubted, but the mere possibility of it made her set her teeth firmly +together as she thought how embarrassing it would be to acknowledge as +the mistress of Aikenside the little girl whom she had sought to +banish from her table. Since her return she had had no opportunity of +judging for herself how matters stood, and was consequently much +relieved when, as Guy joined them, he began at once to speak of Lucy, +telling of the letter, and her request for Maddy's picture. + +"Me? Mine? You cannot mean that?" Maddy exclaimed, her eyes opening +wide with wonder, but Guy did mean it, and began to plan a drive on +the morrow to Devonshire, where there was at that time a tolerably +fair artist. + +Accordingly the next day the four went down to Devonshire, calling +first upon the doctor, whose face brightened when he heard why they +had come. During the weeks that had passed, the doctor had not been +blind to at that was passing at Aikenside, and the fear that Guy was +more interested in Maddy than he ought to be, had grown almost to a +certainty. Now, however, he was not so sure. Indeed, the fact that Guy +had told her of Lucy Atherstone would indicate that his suspicions +were groundless, and he entered heartily into the picture plan, saying +laughingly that if he supposed Miss Lucy would like his face he'd sit +himself, and bidding Guy be sure to ask her. The doctor's gay spirits +helped raise those of Maddy, and as that little burning spot in her +heart was fast wearing away, she was in just the mood for a most +admirable likeness. Indeed, the artist's delight at his achievement +was unbounded, as he declared it the very best picture he had ever +taken. It was beautiful, even Agnes acknowledged to herself, while +Jessie wait into raptures, and Maddy blushed to hear her own praises. +Guy said nothing, except to ask that Maddy should sit again; this was +good, but a second might be better. So Maddy sat again, succeeding +quite as well as at first, but as the artist's preference was for the +former, it was left to be finished up, with the understanding that Guy +would call for it. As the ladies passed down the stairs, Guy lingered +behind, and when sure they were out of hearing, said in a low voice: + +"You may as well finish both; they are too good to be lost." + +The artist bowed, and Guy, with a half guilty blush, hurried down into +the street, where Agues was waiting for him. Two hours later, Guy, in +Mrs. Conner's parlor, was exhibiting the finished picture, which in +its handsome casing, was more beautiful than ever, and more natural, +if possible. + +"I think I might have one of Maddy's," Jessie said, half poutingly; +then, as she remembered the second sitting, she begged of Guy to get +it for her, "that was a dear brother." + +But the "dear brother" did not seem inclined to comply with her +request, putting her off, until, despairing of success, Jessie, when +alone with the doctor, tried her powers of persuasion on him, coaxing +until in self-defense he crossed the street, and entering the +daguerrean gallery asked for the remaining picture of Miss Clyde, +saying that he wished it for little Miss Remington. + +"Mr. Remington took them both," the artist replied, commencing a +dissertation on the style and beauty of the young girl, all of which +was lost upon the doctor, who, in a kind of maze, quitted the room, +and returning to Jessie, said to her carelessly: "He hasn't it. You +know they rub out those they do not use. So you'll have to do without; +and, Jessie, I wouldn't tell Guy I tried to get it for you." + +Jessie wondered why she must not tell Guy, but the fact that the +doctor requested her not was sufficient. Consequently Guy little +guessed that the doctor knew what it was he carried so carefully in +his coat pocket, looking at it earnestly when at home and alone in his +own room, admiring its soft, girlish beauty, half shrinking from the +lifelike expression of the large, bright eyes, and trying to convince +himself that his sole object in getting it was to give it to the +doctor after Maddy was gone! It would be such a surprise, and the +doctor would be so glad, that Guy finally made himself believe that he +had done a most generous thing! + +"I am going to send Lucy your picture to-day, and as she asked that +you should write her a few lines, suppose you do it now," Guy said to +Maddy next morning, as they were leaving the breakfast table. + +It was a sore trial to Maddy to write to Lucy Atherstone, but she +offered no remonstrance, and so accompanying the picture was a little +note, filled mostly with praises of Mr. Guy, and which would be very +gratifying to the unsuspecting Lucy. + +Now that it was fully decided for Jessie to go with Maddy, her lessons +were suspended, and Aikenside for the time being was turned into a +vast dressmaking and millinery establishment. With his usual +generosity, Guy had given Agnes permission to draw upon his purse for +whatever was needed, either for herself or Jessie, with the definite +understanding that Maddy should have an equal share of dress and +attention. + +"It will not be necessary," he said, "for you to enlighten the +citizens of New York with regard to Maddy's position. She goes there +as Jessie's equal, and as such her wardrobe must be suitable." + +No one could live long with Maddy Clyde without becoming interested in +her, and in spite of herself Agnes' dislike was wearing away, +particularly as of late she had seen no signs of special attention on +the doctor's part. He had gotten over his weakness, she thought, and +so was very gracious toward Maddy, who, naturally forgiving, began to +like her better than she had ever dreamed it possible for her to like +so proud and haughty a woman. Down at the cottage in Honedale there +were many consultations held and many fears expressed by the aged +couple as to what would be the result of all Guy was doing for their +child. Womanlike, Grandma Markham felt a flutter of pride in thinking +that Maddy was going to school in a big city like New York. It gave +her something to talk about with her less fortunate neighbors, who +wondered, and gossiped, and envied, but could not bring themselves to +feel unkindly toward the girl Maddy, who had grown up in their midst, +and who as yet was wholly unchanged by prosperity. Grandpa Markham, on +the contrary, though pleased that Maddy should have every opportunity +for acquiring the education she so much desired, was fearful of the +result--fearful that there might come a time when his darling would +shrink from the relations to whom she was as sunshine to the flowers. +He knew that the difference between Aikenside and the cottage must +strike her unpleasantly every time she came home, and he did not blame +her for her always apparent readiness to go back. That was natural, he +thought, but a life in New York, that great city which to the simple- +hearted old man seemed a very Babylon of iniquity, was different, and +for a time he demurred to sending her there. But Guy persuaded him, +and when he heard that Agnes was going, too, he consented, for he had +faith in Agnes as a protector. Maddy had never told him of the scene +which followed that lady's return from Saratoga. Indeed, Maddy never +told anything but good of Aikenside or its inmates, and so Mrs. Agnes +came in for a share of the old people's gratitude, while even Uncle +Joseph, hearing daily a prayer for the "young madam," as grandpa +termed her, learned to pray for her himself, coupling her name with +that of Sarah, and asking in his crazy way that God would "forgive +Sarah" first, and then "bless the madam--the madam--the madam." + +A few days before Maddy's departure, grandpa went up to see "the +madam;" anxious to know something more than hearsay about a person to +whose care his child was to be partially intrusted. Agnes was in her +room when told who wanted to see her. Starting quickly, she turned so +deadly white that Maddy, who brought the message, flew to her side, +asking in much alarm, what was the matter. + +"Only a little faint. It will soon pass off," Agnes said, and then, +dismissing Maddy, she tried to compose herself sufficiently to pass +the ordeal she so much dreaded, and from which there was no possible +escape. + +Thirteen years! Had they changed her past recognition? She hoped, she +believed so, and yet, never in her life had Agnes Remington's heart +beaten with so much terror and apprehension as when she entered the +reception room where Guy sat talking with the infirm old man she +remembered so well. He had grown older, thinner, poorer looking, than +when she saw him last, but in his wrinkled face there was the same +benignant, heavenly expression which, when she was better than she was +now, used to remind her of the angels. His snowy hair was parted just +the same as ever, but the mild blue eye was dimmer, and it rested on +her with no suspicious glance as, partially reassured, she glided +across the threshold, and bowed civilly when Guy presented her. + +A little anxious as to how her grandfather would acquit herself, Maddy +sat by, wondering why Agnes appeared so ill at ease, and why her +grandsire started sometimes at the sound of her voice, and looked +earnestly at her. + +"We've never met before to my knowledge, young woman," he said once to +Agnes, "but you are mighty like somebody, and your voice when you talk +low keeps makin' me jump as if I'd heard it summers or other." + +After that Agnes spoke in elevated tones, as if she thought him deaf, +and the mystified look of wonder did not return to his face. Numerous +were the charges he gave to Agnes concerning Maddy, bidding her be +watchful of his child, and see that she did not "get too much drinked +in with the wicked things on Broadway!" then, as he arose to go, he +laid his trembling hand on her head and said solemnly: "You are young +yet, lady, and there may be a long life before you. God bless you, +then, and prosper you in proportion as you are kind to Maddy. I've +nothing to give you nor Mr. Guy for your goodness only my prayers, and +them you have every day. We all pray for you, lady, Joseph and all, +though I doubt me he knows much the meaning of what he says." "Who, +sir? What did you say?" and Agnes' face was scarlet, as grandpa +replied: "Joseph, our unfortunate boy; Maddy must have told you, the +one who's taken such a shine to Jessie. He's crazy-like, and from the +corner where he sits so much, I can hear him whispering by the hour, +sometimes of folks he used to know, and then of you, who we call +madam. He says for ten minutes on the stretch: "God bless the madam--the +madam--the madam!" You're sick, lady; talkin' about crazy folks +makes you faint," grandpa added, hastily, as Agnes turned white, like +the dress she wore. "No--oh, no, I'm better now," Agnes gasped, bowing +him to the door with a feeling that she could not breathe a moment +longer in his presence. He did not hear her faint cry of bitter, +bitter remorse, as he walked through the hall, nor know she watched +him as he went slowly down the walk, stopping often to admire the fair +blossoms which Maddy did not feel at liberty to pick. "He loved +flowers," Agnes whispered, as her better nature prevailed over every +other feeling, and, starting eagerly forward, she ran after the old +man, who, surprised at her evident haste, waited a little anxiously +for her to speak. It was rather difficult to do so with Maddy's +inquiring eyes upon her, but Agnes managed at last to say: "Does that +crazy man like flowers--the one who prays for the madam?" "Yes, he +used to years ago," grandpa replied; and, bending down, Agnes began to +pick and arrange into a most tasteful bouquet the blossoms and buds of +May, growing so profusely within the borders. + +"Take them to him, will you?" and her hand shook as she passed to +Grandpa Markham the gift which would thrill poor crazy Joseph with a +strange delight, making him hold converse a while with the unseen +presence which he called "she," and then whisper blessings on the +madam's head. Three days after this, a party of four left Aikenside, +which presented a most forlorn and cheerless appearance to the +passers-by, who were glad almost as the servants when, at the +expiration of a week, Guy came back and took up his olden life of +solitude and loneliness, with nothing in particular to interest him, +except his books the letters he wrote to Lucy; unless, indeed, it were +those he was going to write to Maddy, who, with Jessie, had promised +to become his correspondents. Nothing but these and the picture--the +doctor's picture--the one designed expressly for him, and which +troubled him greatly. Believing that he had fully intended it for the +doctor, Guy felt as if it were, in a measure, stolen property, and +this made him prize it all the more. + +Now that Maddy was away, Guy missed her terribly, wondering how he had +ever lived without her, and sometimes working himself into a violent +passion against the meddlesome neighbors who would not let her remain +with him in peace, and who, now that she was gone, did not stop their +talking one whit. Of this last, however, he was ignorant, as there was +no one to tell him how people marveled more than ever, feeling +confident now that he was educating his own wife, and making sundry +hateful remarks as to what he intended doing with her relations. Guy +only knew that he was very lonely, that Lucy's letters seemed insipid, +that even the doctor failed to interest him, as of old, and that his +greatest comfort was in looking at the bright young face which seemed +to smile so trustfully upon him from the tiny casing, just as Maddy +had smiled upon him when, in Madam -----'s parlor, he bade her good-by. +The doctor could not have that picture, he finally decided. Hal +ought to be satisfied with getting Maddy, as of course he would, for +wasn't he educating her for that very purpose? Certainly he was, and, +as a kind of atonement for what he deemed treachery to his friend, he +talked with him often of her, always taking it for granted that when +she was old enough, the doctor would woo and win the little girl who +had come to him in his capacity of inspector, as candidate number one. + +At first, the doctor suspected him of acting a part in order to cover +up some design of his own with regard to Maddy, and affected an +indifference he did not feel; but, as time passed on, Guy, who really +believed himself sincere, managed to make the doctor believe so, too. +Consequently, the latter abandoned his suspicions, and gave himself up +to blissful dreams of what might possibly be when Maddy should have +become the brilliant woman she was sure one day to be. Alas! for the +doctor's dreams. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +THE HOLIDAYS. + + +The summer vacation had been spent by the Remington's and Maddy at the +seaside, the latter coming to the cottage for a week before returning +to her school in New York, and as the doctor was then absent from +home, she did not meet him at all. Consequently he had not seen her +since she left Aikenside for New York. But she was at home now for the +Christmas holidays--was down at the cottage, too; and unusually +nervous for him, the doctor stood before the little square glass in +his back office, trying to make himself look as well as possible, for +he was going that very afternoon to call upon Miss Clyde. He was glad +she was not at Aikenside; he would rather meet her where Guy was not, +and he hoped he might be fortunate enough to find her alone. + +The doctor was seriously in love. He acknowledged that now to himself, +confessing, too, that with his love was mingled a spice of jealousy, +lest Guy Remington should be expending more thought on Maddy Clyde +than was consistent with the promised husband of Lucy Atherstone. He +wished so much to talk with Guy about her, and yet he dreaded it; for +if the talk should confirm his suspicious there would be no hope for +him. No girl in her right mind would prefer him to Guy Remington, and +with a little sigh the doctor was turning away from the glass, when, +as if to verify a familiar proverb, Guy himself drove up in a most +dashing equipage, the silver-tipped harness of his high-mettled steed +flashing in the wintry sunlight, and the bright-hued lining of his +fanciful robes presenting a very gay appearance. + +Guy was in the best of spirits. For an entire half day he had tried to +devise some means to getting Maddy up to Aikenside. It was quite too +bad for her to spend the whole vacation at the cottage, as she seemed +likely to do. He knew she was lonely there; that the bare floor and +low, dark walls affected her unpleasantly. He had seen that in her +face when he bade her good-by, for he had carried her down to the +cottage himself, and now he was going after her. There was to be a +party at Aikenside; the very first since Guy was its master. The +neighbors had said he was too proud to invite them, but they should +say so no more. The house was to be thrown open in honor of Guy's +twenty-sixth birthday, and all who were at all desirable as guests +were to be bidden to the festival. First on the list was the doctor, +who, remembering how averse Guy was to large parties, wondered at the +proceedings. But Guy was all engaged in the matter, and after telling +who were to be invited, added rather indifferently: "I'm going now +down to Honedale after Maddy. It's better for her to be with us a day +or two beforehand. You've seen her, of course." + +No, the doctor had not; he was just going there, he said, in a tone so +full of sad disappointment, that Guy detected it at once, and asked if +anything was the matter. + +"Guy," the doctor continued, sitting down by his friend, "I remember +once your making me your confidant about Lucy. You remember it, too?" + +"Yes, why? well?" Guy replied, beginning to feel strangely +uncomfortable as he half divined what was coming next. + +Latterly Guy had stopped telling the doctor that he was educating +Maddy for him. Indeed, he did not talk of her at all, and the doctor +might have fancied her out of his mind but for the frequent visits to +New York, which Guy found it absolutely necessary to make. Guy did not +himself understand the state of his own feelings with regard to Maddy, +but if compelled to explain them they would have been something as +follows: He fully expected to marry Lucy Atherstone; the possibility +that he should not had never occurred to him, but that was no reason +why Maddy Clyde need be married for these many years. She was very +young yet; there was time enough for her to think of marrying when she +was twenty-five, and in the meanwhile it would be splendid to have her +at Aikenside as Lucy's and his friend. Nothing could be nicer, and Guy +did not care to have this little arrangement spoiled. But that the +doctor had an idea of spoiling it, he had not a doubt, particularly +after the doctor's next remark. + +"I have not seen Maddy since last spring, you know. Is she very much +improved?" + +"Yes, very much. There is no more stylish-looking girl to be seen on +Broadway than Maddy Clyde," and Guy shook down his pantaloons a little +awkwardly. + +"Well, is she as handsome as she used to be, and as childish in her +manner?" the doctor asked; and Guy replied: + +"I took her to the opera once, last month, and the many admiring +glances cast at our box proved pretty positively that Maddy's beauty +was not of the ordinary kind." + +"The opera!" the doctor exclaimed; "Maddy Clyde at the opera! What +would her grandfather say? He is very puritanical, you know." + +"Yes, I know; and so is Maddy, too. She wrote and obtained his consent +before she'd go with me. He won't let her go to a theatre anyhow." + +Here an interval of silence ensued, and then the doctor began again, + +"Guy, you told me once you were educating Maddy Clyde for me, and I +tried then to make you think I didn't care; but I did, oh, so much. +Guy, laugh at me, if you please. I cannot blame you if you do; but the +fact is, I believe I've loved Maddy Clyde ever since that time she was +so sick. At all events, I love her now, and I was going down there +this very afternoon to tell her so. She's old enough. She was sixteen +last October, the--the----" + +"Tenth day," Guy responded, thus showing that he, too, was keeping +Maddy's age, even to a day. + +"Yes, the tenth day," resumed the doctor. "There's 'most eleven years' +difference between us, but if she feels at all as I do, she will not +care, Guy;" and the doctor began to talk earnestly: "I'll be candid +with you, and say that you have sometimes made my heart ache a +little." + +"Me!" and Guy's face was crimson, while the doctor continued: + +"Yes, and I beg your pardon for it; but let me ask you one question, +and upon its answer will depend my future course with regard to Maddy: +You are true to Lucy?" + +Guy felt the blood trickling at the roots of his hair, but he answered +truthfully as he believed: + +"Yes, true as steel;" while the generous thought came over him that he +would further the doctor's plans all he possibly could. + +"Then I am satisfied," the doctor rejoined; "and as you have rather +assumed the position of her guardian or brother, I ask your permission +to offer her the love which whether she accepts it or not, is hers." + +Guy had never felt a sharper pang than that which now thrilled through +every nerve, but he would not prove false to the friend confiding in +him, and he answered calmly: + +"You have my consent; but, Doc, better put it off till you see her at +Aikenside. There's no chance at the cottage, with those three old +people. I wonder she don't go wild. I'm sure I should." + +Guy was growing rather savage about something, but the doctor did not +mind; and grasping his arm as he arose, he said: + +"And you'll manage it for me, Guy? You know how. I don't. You'll +contrive for me to see her alone, and maybe say a word beforehand in +my favor." + +"Yes, yes, I'll manage it. I'll fix it right. Don't forget, day after +to-morrow night. The Cutlers' will be there, and, by the way, Marcia +has got to be a splendid girl. She fancied you once, you know. Old +Cutler is worth half a million." And Guy tore himself away from the +doctor, who, now that the ice was broken, would like to have talked of +Maddy forever. + +But Guy was not thus inclined, and in a mood not extremely amiable, he +threw himself into his sleigh and went dashing down toward Honedale. +For some unaccountable reason he was not now one bit interested in the +party, and, were it not that a few of the invitations were issued, he +would have been tempted to give it up. Guy did not know what ailed +him. He only felt as if somebody had been meddling with his plans, and +had he been in the habit of swearing, he would probably have sworn; +but as he was not, he contented himself with driving like a second +Jehu he reached Honedale, where a pair of soft, brown eyes smiled up +into his face, and a little, fat, warm hand was clasped in his, as +Maddy came even to the gate to meet him. + +She was very glad to see him. The cottage with its humble adornings +did seem lonely, almost dreary, after the life and bustle of New York, +and Maddy had cried more than once to think how hard and wicked she +must be growing when her home had ceased to be the dear old home she +once loved so well. She had been there five days now, and +notwithstanding the efforts of her grandparents to entertain her, each +day had seemed a week in its duration. Neither the doctor nor Guy had +been near her, and capricious little Maddy had made herself believe +that the former was sadly remiss in his duty, inasmuch as he had not +seen her for so long. He had been in the habit of calling every week, +her grandmother said, and this did not tend to increase her +amiability. Why didn't he come now when he knew she was at home? +Didn't he want to see her? Well, she could be indifferent, too, and +when they did meet, she'd show how little she cared! + +Maddy was getting to be a woman with womanly freaks, as the reader +will readily see. At Guy she was not particularly piqued. She did not +take his attentions, as a matter of course; still she thought more of +him, if possible, than of the doctor, during those five days, saying +to herself each morning: "He'll surely come to-day," and to herself +each night: "He will be here to-morrow." She had something to show him +at last--a letter from Lucy Atherstone, who had gradually come to be +her regular correspondent, and whom Maddy had learned to love with all +the intensity of her girlhood. To her ardent imagination Lucy +Atherstone was but a little lower than the angels, and the pure, sweet +thoughts contained in every letter were doing almost as much toward +molding her character as Grandpa Markham's prayers and constant +teachings. Maddy did not know it, but it was these letters from Lucy +which kept her from loving Guy Remington. She could not for a moment +associate him with herself when she so constantly thought of him as +the husband of another, and that other Lucy Atherstone. Not for worlds +would Maddy have wronged the gentle creature who wrote to her so +confidingly of Guy, envying her in that she could so often see his +face and hear his voice, while his betrothed was separated from him by +many thousand miles. Little by little it had come out that Lucy's +mother was averse to the match, that she had in her mind the case of +an English lord, who would make her daughter "My Lady;" and this was +the secret of her deferring so long her daughter's marriage. In her +last letter to Maddy, however, Lucy had written with more than her +usual spirit that she would come in possession of her property on her +twenty-fifth birthday. She should then feel at liberty to act for +herself, and she launched out into joyful anticipations of the time +when she should come to Aikenside and meet her dear Maddy Clyde. +Feeling that Guy, if he did not already know it, would be glad to hear +it, Maddy had all the morning been wishing he would come; and when she +saw him at the gate she ran out to meet him, her eyes and face +sparkling with eager joy as she suffered him to retain her hand while +she said: "I am so glad to see you, Mr. Remington. I almost thought +you had forgotten me at Aikenside, Jessie and all." + +Guy began to exclaim against any one's forgetting her, and also to +express his pleasure at finding her so glad to see him, when Maddy +interrupted him with, "Oh, it's not that; I've something to show you-- +something which will make you very happy. I had a letter from Lucy +last night. When she is twenty-five she will be her own mistress, you +know, and she means to be married in spite of her mother--she says--let +me see--" and drawing from her bosom Lucy's letter, Maddy read, +"'I do not intend to fail in filial obedience, but I have tired dear +Guy's patience long enough, and as soon as I can I shall marry him.' +Isn't it nice?" and returning the letter to its hiding place, Maddy +scooped up in her hand and ate a quantity of the snow beside the path. + +"Yes, it was very nice," Guy admitted, but there was a shadow on his +brow as he followed Maddy into the cottage, where the lunatic, who had +been watching them from the window, shook his head doubtfully and +said, "Too young, too young for you, young man. You can't have our +Sunshine if you want her." + +"Hush, Uncle Joseph," Maddy whispered, softly, taking his arm and +laying it around her neck. "Mr. Remington don't want me. He is engaged +to a beautiful English girl across the sea." + +Low as Maddy's words were, Guy heard them, as well as the crazy man's +reply, "Engagements have been broken." + +That was the first time the possibility had ever entered Guy's brain +that his engagement might be broken, provided he wished it, which he +did not, he said to himself positively. Lucy loved him, he loved Lucy, +and that was enough, so in a kind of abstracted manner arising from +the fact that he was calculating how long it would be before Lucy was +twenty-five, he began to talk with Maddy, asking how she had spent her +time, and so forth. This reminded Maddy of the doctor, who, she said, +had not been to see her at all. + +"He was coming this morning," Guy rejoined, "but I persuaded him to +defer his call until you were at Aikenside. I have come to take you +back with me, as we are to have a party day after to-morrow evening, +and I wish you to be present." + +A party, a big party, such as Maddy had never in her life attended! +How her eyes sparkled from mere anticipation as she looked appealingly +to her grandfather, who, though classing parties with the pomps and +vanities from which he would shield his child, still remembered that +he once was young, that fifty years ago he, too, like Maddy, wanted +"to see the folly of it," and not take the mere word of older people +that in every festive scene there was a pitfall, strewn over so +thickly with roses that it was ofttimes hard to tell just where its +boundary line commenced. Besides that, grandpa had faith in Guy, and +so his consent was granted, and Maddy was soon on her way to +Aikenside, which presented a gayer, busier appearance than she had +ever known before. Jessie was wild with delight, dragging forth at +once the pink dress which she was to wear, and whispering to Maddy +that Guy had bought a dark blue silk for her, and that Sarah Jones was +at that moment fashioning it after a dress left there by Maddy the +previous summer. + +"Mother said plain white muslin was more appropriate for a young girl, +but Brother Guy said no; fee blue would be useful after the party; it +was what you needed, and so he bought it and paid a dollar and three- +quarters a yard, but it's a secret until you are called to try it on. +Isn't Guy splendid?" + +He was indeed splendid, Maddy thought, wondering why he was so kind to +her, and if it would be so when Lucy came. The dress fitted admirably, +only Maddy thought grandpa would say it was too low in the neck, but +Sarah overruled her objections, assisted by Guy, who, when the dress +was completed and tried on for the last time, was called in by Jessie +to see if "Maddy's neck didn't look just like cheese curd," and if +"she shouldn't have a piece sewed on as she suggested." The neck was +_au fait_, Guy said, laughing as Maddy for blushing so, and +saying when he saw how really distressed she seemed that he would +provide her with something to relieve the bareness of which she +complained. "Oh, I know, I saw, I peeked in the box," Jessie began, +but Guy put his hand over the little tattler's mouth, bidding her keep +the result of her peeking to herself. + +And for once Jessie succeeded in doing so, although she several times +set Maddy to guessing what it was Guy had for her in a box! As the +size of the box was not mentioned, Maddy had fully made up her mind to +a shawl or scarf, and was proportionately disappointed when, as she +was dressing for the party, there was sent up to her room a small +round box, scarcely large enough to hold an apple, much less a small +scarf. The present proved to be a pair of plain but heavy bracelets, +and a most exquisitely wrought chain of gold, to which was appended a +beautiful pearl cross, the whole accompanied with the words, "From +Guy." Jessie was in ecstasies again. Clasping the ornaments on Maddy's +neck and arms, she danced around her, declaring there never was +anything more beautiful, or anybody as pretty as Maddy was in her rich +party dress. Maddy was fond of jewelry--as what young girl is not?-- +and felt a flush of gratified pride, or vanity, or satisfaction, +whichever one chooses to call it, as she glanced at herself in the +mirror and remembered the time when, riding with the doctor, she had +met Mrs. Agnes, with golden bracelets flashing on her arms, and wished +she might one day wear something like them. The day had come sooner +than she then anticipated, but Maddy was not as happy in possession of +the coveted ornaments as she had thought she should be. Somehow, it +seemed to her that Guy ought not to have given them to her, that it +was improper for her to keep them, and that both Mrs. Noah and Agnes +thought so, too. She wished she knew exactly what was right, and then, +remembering that Guy had said the doctor was expected early, she +decided to ask his opinion on the subject and abide by it. + +At first Agnes had cared but little about the party, affecting to +despise the people in their immediate neighborhood; but when Guy gave +her permission to invite from the adjoining towns, and even from +Worcester if she liked, her spirits arose; and when her toilet was +completed, she shone resplendent in lace and diamonds and curls, +managing to retain through all a certain simplicity of dress +appropriate to the hostess. But beautiful as Agnes was, she felt in +her jealous heart that there was about Maddy Clyde an attraction she +did not possess. Guy saw it, too, and while complimenting his pretty +mother-in-law, kept his eyes fixed admiringly on Maddy, who started +him into certain unpleasant remembrances by asking if the doctor had +come yet. + +"No--yes--there he was now," and Guy looked into the hall, where the +doctor's voice was heard inquiring for him. + +"I want to see him a minute, alone, please. There's something I want +to ask him." And, unmindful of Agnes' darkening frown, or Guy's look +of wonder, Maddy darted from the room, and ran hastily down the hall +to where the doctor stood, waiting for Guy, not for her. + +He had not expected to meet her thus, or to see her thus, and the +sight of her, grown so tall, so womanly, so stylish and so beautiful, +almost took his breath away. And yet, as he stood with her soft hand +in his, and surveyed her from head to foot, he felt that he would +rather have had her as she was when a dainty frill shaded her pale, +wasted face, when the snowy ruffle was fastened high about her throat, +and the cotton bands were buttoned about her wrists, where gold ones +now were shining. The doctor had never forgotten Maddy as she was +then, the very embodiment, he thought, of helpless purity. The little +sick girl, so dear to him then, was growing away from him now; and +these adornings, which marked the budding woman, seemed to remove her +from him and place her nearer to Guy, whose bride should wear silk and +jewels, just as Maddy did. + +She was very glad to see him, she said, asking in the same breath why +he had not been to the cottage, if she had not grown tall, and if he +thought her one bit improved with living in a city? + +"One question at a time, if you please," he said, drawing her a little +more into the shadow of the door where they would be less observed by +any one passing through. + +Maddy did not wait for him to answer, so eager was she to unburden her +mind and know if she ought to keep the costly presents, at which she +knew he was looking. + +"If he remembers his unpaid bill, he must consider me mighty mean," +she thought: and then, with her usual frankness, she told him of the +perplexity and asked his opinion. + +"It would displease Mr. Guy very much if I were to give them back," +she said: "but it hardly is right for me to accept them, is it?" + +The doctor did not say she ought not to wear the ornaments, though he +longed to tear them from her arms and neck and throw them anywhere, he +cared not where, so they freed her wholly from Guy. + +They were very becoming, he said. She would not look as well without +them; so she had better wear them to-night, and to-morrow, if she +would grant him an interview, he would talk with her further. + +Dissembling doctor! He said all this to gain the desired interview +with Maddy, the interview for which Guy was to prepare her. That he +had not done so he felt assured, but he could not be angry with him, +as he came smilingly toward them, asking if they had talked privacy +long enough, and glancing rather curiously at Maddy's face. There was +nothing in its expression to disturb him, and, offering her his arm, +he led her back to the drawing-rooms where Agnes was smoothing down +the folds of her dress, preparatory to receiving the guests just +descending the stairs. It was a brilliant scene which Aikenside +presented that night, and amid it all Agnes bore herself like a queen, +while Jessie, with her sunny face and golden hair, came in for a full +share of attention. But amid the gay throng there was none so fair or +so beautiful as Maddy, who deported herself with as much ease and +grace as if she had all her life long been accustomed to just such +occasions as this. At a distance the doctor watched her, telling +several who she was, and once resenting by both look and manner a +remark made by Maria Cutler to the effect that she was nobody but Mrs. +Remington's governess, a poor girl whom Guy had taken a fancy to +educate out of charity. + +"He seems very fond of his charity pupil, upon my word. He scarcely +leaves her neighborhood at all," whispered old Mrs. Cutler, the mother +of Maria, who, Guy said, once fancied Dr. Holbrook, and who had no +particular objections to fancying him now, provided it could be +reciprocal. + +But the doctor was only intent on Maddy, knowing always just where she +was standing, just who was talking to her; and just how far from her +Guy was. He knew, too, when the latter was urging her to sing; and, +managing to get nearer, heard her object that no one cared to hear +her. + +"But I do; I wish it," Guy replied in that tone which people generally +obeyed; and casting a half-frightened look at the sea of faces around +her, Maddy suffered him to lead her to the piano, sitting quite still +while he found what he wished her to play. + +It was his favorite song, and one which brought out Maddy's voice in +its various modulations. + +"Oh, please, Mr. Remington, anything but a song. I cannot sing," Maddy +whispered pleadingly; but Guy answered resolutely, "You can." + +There was no appeal after this, but a resigned, obedient look, which +made the doctor gnash his teeth as he leaned upon the instrument. What +right had Guy to command Maddy Clyde, and why should she obey? and +yet, as the doctor glanced at Guy, he felt that were he in Maddy's +place, he should do the same. + +"No girl can resist Guy Remington," he thought. "I'm glad there's a +Lucy Atherstone over the sea." And with a smile of encouragement for +Maddy, who was pale with nervous timidity, he listened while her +sweet, birdlike voice trembled for a moment with fear; and then, +gaining from its own sound, filled the room with melody, and made +those who had wandered off to other parts of the building hasten back +to see who was singing. + +Maria Cutler had presided at the piano earlier in the evening, as had +one or two other young ladies, but to none of these had Guy paid half +the attention he did to Maddy, staying constantly by her, holding her +fan, turning the leaves of music, and dictating what she should play. + +"There's devotion," tittered a miss in long ringlets; "but she really +does play well," and she appealed to Maria Cutler, who answered, "Yes, +she keeps good time, and I should think might play for a dance. I mean +to ask her," and going up to Guy she said, "I wish to speak to--to-- +well, Jessie's governess. Introduce me, please." + +Guy waited till Maddy was through, and then gave the desired +introduction. In a tone not wholly free from superciliousness, Miss +Cutler said: + +"Can you play a waltz or polka, Miss Clyde? We are aching to exercise +our feet." + +Maddy bowed and struck into a spirited waltz, which set many of the +people present to whirling in circles, and produced the result which +Maria so much desired, viz: it drove Guy away from the piano, for he +could not mistake her evident wish to have him as a partner, and with +his arm around her waist he was soon moving rapidly from that part of +the room, leaving only the doctor to watch Maddy's fingers as they +flew over the keys. Maddy never thought of being tired. She enjoyed +the excitement, and was glad she could do something toward +entertaining Guy's guests. But Guy did not forget her for an instant. +Through all the mazes of the giddy dance, he had her before his eye, +seeing not the clouds of lace and muslin encircled by his arm, but the +little figure in blue sitting so patiently at the piano until he knew +she must be tired, and determined to release her. As it chanced, Maria +was again his partner, and drawing her nearer to Maddy, he said, "Your +fingers ache by this time, I am sure. It is wrong to trouble you +longer. Agnes will take your place while you try a quadrille with me." + +"Oh, thank you," Maddy answered. "I am not tired in the least. I had +as lief play till morning, provided they are satisfied with my time +and my stock of music holds out." + +"But it is not fair for one to do all the playing; besides, I want you +to dance with me--so consider yourself invited in due form to be my +next partner." + +Maddy's face crimsoned for an instant, and then in a low voice she +said, "I thank you, but I must decline." + +"Maddy!" Guy exclaimed, in tones more indicative of reproach than +expostulation. + +There were tears in Maddy's eyes, and Maria Cutler, watching her, was +vexed to see how beautiful was the expression of her face as she +answered frankly, "I have never told you that grandpa objected to my +taking dancing lessons when I wrote to him about it. He does not like +me to dance." + +"A saint!" Maria uttered under her breath, smiling contemptuously as +she made a movement to leave the piano, hoping Guy would follow her. + +But he did not at once. Standing for a moment irresolute, while he +looked curiously at Maddy, he said at last: + +"Of course I interfere with no one's scruples of that kind, but I +cannot allow you to wear yourself out for our amusement." + +"I like to play--please let me," was Maddy's reply; and, as the set +upon the floor were waiting for her, she turned to the instrument, +while Guy mechanically offered his arm to Maria, and sauntered toward +the green room. + +"What a blue old ignoramus that grandfather must be, to object to +dancing, don't you think so?" + +Maria laughed a little spitefully, secretly glad that Maddy had +refused, and secretly angry at Guy for seeming to care so much. + +"Say," she continued, as Guy did not answer her, "don't you think it a +sign that something is lacking in brains or education, when a person +sets up that dancing is wicked?" + +Guy would have taken Maddy's side then, whatever he might have +thought, and he replied: + +"No lack of brains, certainly; though education and circumstances have +much to do with one's views upon that subject. For my part, I like to +see people consistent. Now, that old ignoramus, as you call him, lays +great stress on pomp and vanities, and when I asked him once what he +meant by them, he mentioned dancing in particular as one of the things +which you, church people, promise to renounce;" and Guy bowed toward +Maria, who, knowing that she was one of the church people referred to, +winced perceptibly. + +"But this girl--this Maddy. There's no reason why she should decline," +she said; and Guy replied: "Respect for her grandfather, in her case, +seems to be stronger than respect for a higher power in some other +cases." + +"It's just as wicked to play for dancing as 'tis to dance," Maria +remarked impatiently, while Guy rejoined: + +"That is very possible; but I presume Maddy has never seen it in that +light, which makes a difference;" and the two retraced their steps to +the rooms where the gay revelers were still tripping to Maddy's +stirring music. + +After several ineffectual efforts Agnes had succeeded in enticing the +doctor away from the piano, and thus there was no one near to see how +at last the bright color began to fade from her cheeks as the notes +before her ran together, and the keys assumed the form of one huge key +which Maddy could not manage. There was a blur before her eyes, a +buzzing in her ears, and just as the dancers were entering heart and +soul into the merits of a popular polka, there was a sudden pause in +the music, a crash among the keys, and a faint cry, which to those +nearest to her sounded very much like "Mr. Guy," as Maddy fell forward +with her face upon the piano. It was hard telling which carried her +from the room, the doctor or Guy, or which face of the three was the +whitest. Guy's was the most frightened, for the doctor knew she had +only fainted, while Guy, struck with the marble rigidity of the face +so recently flushed with excitement, said at first, "She's dead," +while over him there flashed a feeling that life with Maddy dead would +be desolate indeed. But Maddy was not dead, and Guy, when he went back +to his guests carried the news that she had recovered from her faint, +which she kindly ascribed to the heat of the rooms, instead of fatigue +from playing so long. The doctor was with her and she was doing as +well as could be expected, he said, thinking within himself how he +wished they would go home, and wondering what attraction there was +there, now that Maddy's place was vacant. Guy was a vastly miserable +man by the time the last guest had bidden him good-night, and he had +heard for the hundred-and-fiftieth time what a delightful evening it +had been. Politeness required that he should look to the very last as +pleasant and unconcerned as if upstairs there were no little sick +girl, all alone undoubtedly with Dr. Holbrook, whom he mentally styled +a "lucky dog," in that he was not obliged to appear again in the +parlors unless he chose. + +The doctor knew Maddy did not require his presence after the first +half hour, but he insisted upon her being sent to bed, and then went +frequently to her door until assured by Mrs. Noah that she was +sleeping soundly, and would, if let alone, be well as ever on the +morrow, a prediction which proved true, for when at a late hour next +morning the family met at the breakfast table, Maddy's was the +brightest, freshest face of the whole, not even excepting Jessie's. +Maddy, too, was delighted with the party, declaring that nothing but +pleasurable excitement and heat had made her faint, and then with all +the interest which young girls usually attach to fainting fits, she +asked how she looked, how she acted, if she didn't appear very +ridiculous, and how she got out of the room, saying the only thing she +remembered after falling was a sensation as if she were being torn in +two. + +"That's it," cried Jessie, who readily volunteered the desired +information, "Brother Guy was 'way off with Maria Cutler, and doctor +was with mamma, but both ran, oh, so fast, and both tried to take you +up. I think Miss Cutler real hateful, for she said, so meanlike, 'Do +you see them pull her, as if 'twas of the slightest consequence which +carried her out?'" + +"Jessie," Guy interposed sternly, while the doctor looked +disapprovingly at the little girl, who subsided into silence after +saying, in an undertone, "I do think she's hateful, and that isn't all +she said either about Maddy." + +It was rather uncomfortable at the table after that, and rather quiet, +too, as Maddy did not care to ask anything more concerning her faint, +while the others were not disposed to talk. + +Breakfast over, the two young men repaired to the library, where Guy +indulged in his cigar, while the doctor fidgeted for a time, and then +broke out abruptly: + +"I say, Guy, have you said anything to her about--well, about me, you +know?" + +"Why, no, I've hardly had a chance; and then, again, I concluded it +better for each one to speak for himself;" and carelessly knocking the +ashes from his half-smoked cigar, Guy leaned back in his chair, with +his eyes, and, to all appearance, thoughts, wholly intent upon the +curls of smoke rising above his head. + +"Guy, if you were not engaged, I should be tempted to think you wanted +Maddy Clyde yourself," the doctor suddenly exclaimed, confronting Guy, +who, still watching the rings of smoke, answered with the most +provoking coolness, "You should?" + +"Yes, I should; and I am not certain but you do as it is, Guy," and +the doctor grew very earnest in his manner, "if you do care for Maddy +Clyde, and she for you, pray tell me so before I make a fool of +myself." + +"Doctor," returned Guy, throwing the remains of his cigar into the +grate and folding his hands on his head, "you desire that I be frank, +and I will. I like Maddy Clyde very much--more indeed than any girl I +ever met--except Lucy. Had I never seen her--Lucy, I mean--I cannot +tell how I should feel toward Maddy. The chances are, however, that +much as I admire her, I should not make her my wife, even if she were +willing. But I have seen Lucy. I am engaged to be married. I shall +keep that engagement, and if you have feared me at all as a rival, you +may fear me no longer. I do not stand between you and Maddy Clyde." + +Guy believed that he was saying the truth, notwithstanding that his +heart beat faster than its wont and his voice was a little thick. It +was doubtful whether he would marry Maddy Clyde, if he could. By +nature and education he was very proud, and the inmates of the red +cottage would have been an obstacle to be surmounted by his pride. He +knew they were good, far, far better than himself; but, from his +earliest remembrance, he had been taught that blood and family and +position were all-important; that by virtue of them Remington was a +name of which to be proud; that his father's foolish marriage with a +pretty governess was the first misalliance ever known in the family, +and that he was not likely to follow that example was a point fully +established in his own mind. He might admire Maddy very much, and, +perhaps, build castles of what might possibly have been, had she been +in his sphere of life; but, should he verily think of making her his +wife, the olden pride would certainly come up a barrier between them. +Guy could not explain all this to the doctor, who would have been +tempted to knock him down, if he had; but he succeeded in quieting his +fears, and even suggested bringing Maddy in there, if the doctor +wished to know his fate that morning. + +"I hear her now--I'll call her," he said; and, opening the door, he +spoke to Maddy, just passing through the hall. "Dr. Holbrook wishes to +see you," he said, as Maddy came up to him; and, holding the door for +her to enter, he saw her take the seat he had just vacated. Then, +closing it upon them, he walked away, thinking that last night's +party, or something, had produced a bad effect on him, making him blue +and wretched, just as he should suppose a criminal would feel when +about to be executed. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +THE DOCTOR AND MADDY. + + +Now that they were alone, the doctor's courage forsook him, and he +could only stammer out some commonplace remarks about the party, +asking how Maddy Lad enjoyed it, and if she was sure she had entirely +recovered from the effects of her fainting fit. He was not getting on +at all, and it was impossible for him to say anything as he had meant +to say it. Why couldn't she help him, instead of looking so +unsuspiciously at him with those large, bright eyes? Didn't she know +how dear she was to him? He should think she might. She might have +divined it ere this; and if so, why didn't she blush, or something? + +At last she came to his aid by saying, "You promised to tell me about +the bracelets and necklace, whether I ought to keep them." + +"Yes, oh yes, he believed he did." And getting up from his chair, the +doctor began to walk the floor, the better to hide his confusion. +"Yes, the bracelets. You looked very pretty in them, Maddy, very; but +you are always pretty--ahem--yes. If you were engaged to Guy, I should +say it was proper; but if not, why, I don't know; the fact is, Maddy, +I am not quite certain what I am saying, so you must excuse me. I +almost hated you that day you sent the note, telling me you were +coming to be examined; but I had not seen you then. I did not know +how, after a while--a very little while--I should in all probability-- +well, I did; I changed my mind, and I--I guess you have not the +slightest idea what I mean." And stopping suddenly, he confronted the +astonished Maddy, who replied: + +"Not the slightest, unless you are going crazy." + +She could in no other way account for his strange conduct, and she sat +staring at him while he continued: "I told you once that when I wanted +my bill I'd let you know. I'd ask for pay. I want it now. I present my +bill." + +With a scared, miserable feeling, Maddy listened to him, wondering +where she should get the money, if it were possible for her +grandfather to raise it, and how much her entire wardrobe would bring, +suppose she should sell it! The bill had not troubled her latterly, +for she had fallen into a way of believing that the doctor would wait +until she was graduated and could earn it by teaching. Nothing could +be more inopportune than for him to present it now; and with a +half-stifled sob she began to speak, but he her by a gesture, and +sitting down beside her, said, in a voice more natural than the one with +which he had at first addressed her: + +"Maddy, I know you have no money. It is not that I want, Maddy; I +want--I want--you." + +He bent down over her now, for her face was hidden in her hands, all +sense of sight shut out, all sense of hearing, too, save the words he +was pouring into her ear--words which burned their way into her heart, +making It throb for a single moment with gratified pride, and then +growing heavy as lead as she knew how impossible it was for her to pay +the debt in the way which he desired. + +"I can't, doctor; oh, I can't!" she sobbed. "I never dreamed of this; +never supposed you could want me for your wife. I'm only a little +girl--only sixteen last October--but I'm so sorry for you, who have +been so kind. If I only could love you as you deserve! I do love you, +too; but not the way you mean. I cannot be Maddy Holbrook; no; doctor, +I cannot." + +She was sobbing piteously, and in his concern for her the doctor +forgot somewhat the stunning blow he had received. + +"Don't, Maddy darling!" he said, drawing her trembling form closely to +him, "Don't be so distressed. I did not much think you'd tell me yes, +and I was a fool to ask you. I am too old; but, Maddy, Guy is as old +as I am." + +The doctor did not know why he said this, unless in the first keenness +of his disappointment there was a satisfaction in telling her that the +objection to his age would apply also to Guy. But it did not affect +Maddy one whit, or give her the slightest inkling of his meaning. He +saw it did not, and the pain was less to bear. Still, he would know +certainly if he had a rival, and so he said to her: + +"Do you love some one else, Maddy? Is another preferred before me, and +is that the reason why you cannot love me?" + +"No," Maddy answered, through her tears. "There is no one else. Whom +should I love, unless it were you? I know nobody but Guy." + +That name touched a sore, aching chord in the doctor's heart, but he +gave no sign of the jealousy which had troubled him, and for a moment +there was silence in the room; then, as the doctor began faintly to +realize that Maddy had refused him, there awoke within him a more +intense desire to win her than he had ever felt before. He would not +give her up without another effort, and laying her unresisting head +upon his bosom, he pleaded again for her love, going over all the +past, and telling of the interest awakened when first she came to him +that April afternoon, almost two years ago; then of the little sick +girl who had grown so into the heart never before affected in the +least by womankind, and lastly of the beautiful woman, as he called +her, sitting beside him now in all the freshness of her young +womanhood. And Maddy, as she listened, felt for him a strange kind of +pity, a wish to do his bidding if she only could, and why shouldn't +she? Girls had married those whom they did not love, and been +tolerably happy with them, too. Perhaps she could be so with the +doctor. There was everything about him to respect, and much which she +could love. Should she try? There was a great lump in Maddy's throat +as she tried to speak, but it cleared away and she said very sadly, +but very earnestly, too: + +"Dr. Holbrook, would you like me to say yes with my lips, when all the +time there was something at my heart tugging to answer no?" + +This was not at all what Maddy meant to say, but the words were born +of her extreme truthfulness, and the doctor thus learned the nature of +the struggle which he saw plainly was going on. + +"No, Maddy, I would not have you say yes unless your heart was in it," +he answered, while he tried to smile upon the tearful face looking up +so sorrowfully at him. + +But the smile was a forlorn one, and there came instead a tear as he +thought how dear was the fair creature who never would be his. Maddy +saw the tear, and as if she were a child wiped it from his cheek; +then, in tones which never faltered, she told him it might be in time +she'd learn to love him. She would try so hard, she'd think of him +always as her promised husband, and by that means should learn at last +not to shrink from taking him for such. It might be ever so long, and +perhaps she should be twenty or more, but some time in the future she +should feel differently. Was he satisfied, and would he wait? + +Her little hand was resting on his shoulder, but he did not mind its +soft pressure or know that it was there, so strong was the temptation +to accept that half-made promise. But the doctor was too noble, to +unselfish to bind Maddy to himself unless she were wholly willing, and +he said to her that if she did not love him now she probably never +would. She could not make a love. She need not try, as it would only +result in her own unhappiness. They would be friends just as they +always had been, and none need know of what had passed between them, +none but Guy. "I must tell him" the doctor said, "because he knows +that I was going to ask you." + +Maddy could not explain why it was that she felt glad the doctor would +tell Guy. She did not analyze any of her feelings, or stop to ask why +she should care to have Guy Remington know the answer she had given +Dr. Holbrook. He was going to him now, she was sure, for he arose to +leave her, saying he might not see her again before she returned to +New York. She did not mention his bill. That was among the bygones, a +thing never again to be talked about, and offering him her hand, she +looked for an instant earnestly into his face, then without a word, +hurried from the room, while the doctor, with a sad, heavy heart, went +in quest of Guy. + +"Refused you, did you say?" and Guy's face certainly looked brighter +than it had before since he left the doctor with Maddy Clyde. + +"Yes, refused me, as I might have known she would," was the doctor's +reply, spoken so naturally that Guy looked up quickly to see if he +really did not care. + +But the expression of the face belied the calmness of the voice; and, +touched with genuine pity, Guy asked the cause of the refusal-- +"preference for any one else, or what?" + +"No, there was no one whom she preferred. She merely did not like me +well enough to be my wife, that was all," the doctor said, and then he +tried to talk of something else; but it would not do. The wound was +yet too fresh and sore to be covered up, and in spite of himself the +bearded chin quivered and the manly voice shook as he bade good-by to +Guy, and then went galloping down the avenue. + +Great was the consternation among the doctor's patients when it was +known that their pet physician--the one in whose skill they had so +much confidence--was going to Europe, where in Paris he could perfect +himself in his profession. Some cried, and among them Agnes; some said +he knew enough already; some tried to dissuade him from his purpose; +some wondered at the sudden start, while only two knew exactly why he +was going--Guy and Maddy; the former approving his decision and +lending his influence to make his tour abroad as pleasant as possible; +and the latter weeping bitterly as she thought how she had sent him +away, and that if aught befell him on the sea or in that distant land, +she would be held amenable. Once there came over her the wild impulse +to bid him stay, to say that she would be his wife; but, ere the rash +act was done, Guy came down to the cottage, and Maddy's resolution +gave way at once. + +It would be difficult to tell the exact nature of Maddy's liking for +Guy at that time. Had he offered himself to her she would probably +have refused him even more promptly than she did the doctor; for, to +all intents and purposes, he was, in her estimation, the husband of +Lucy Atherstone. As such, there was no harm in making him her paragon +of all male excellence; and Guy would have felt flattered, could he +have known how much he was in that young girl's thoughts. But now for +a few days he had a rival, for Maddy's thoughts were all given to the +doctor, who came down to see her once before starting for Europe. She +did not cry while he was there, but her voice was strange and hoarse +as she gave him messages for Lucy Atherstone; and all that day her +face was white and sad, as are the faces of those who come back from +burying their dead. + +Only once after the party did she go up to Aikenside, and then, +summoning all her fortitude, she gave back to Guy the bracelets and +the necklace, telling him she ought not to wear them; that ornaments +as rich as these were not for her; that her grandmother did not wish +her to keep them, and he must take them back. Guy saw she was in +earnest, and much against his will he received again the ornaments he +had been so happy in purchasing. + +"They would do for Jessie when she was older," Maddy said; but Guy +thought it very doubtful whether Jessie would ever have them. They +were something he had bought for Maddy, something she had worn, and as +such they were too sacred to be given to another. So he laid them away +beside the picture guarded so carefully from every one. + +Two weeks afterward Aikenside presented again a desolate, shut-up +appearance, for Agnes, Maddy and Jessie had returned to New York; +Agnes to continue the siege which, in despair of winning the doctor, +she had commenced against a rich old bachelor, who had a house on +Madison Square; and Maddy to her books, which ere long obliterated, in +a measure, the bitter memory of all that had transpired during her +winter vacation. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIL + +WOMANHOOD. + + +Two years pass quickly, particularly at school, and to Maddy Clyde, +talking with her companions of the coming holidays, it seemed hardly +possible that two whole years were gone since the eventful vacation +when Dr. Holbrook had so startled her by offering her his hand. He was +in Europe still, and another name than his was on the little office in +Mrs. Conner's yard. To Maddy he now wrote frequently; friendly, +familiar letters, such as a brother might write, never referring to +the past, but telling her whatever he thought would interest and +please her. Occasionally at first, and more frequently afterward, he +spoke of Margaret Atherstone, Lucy's younger sister, a brilliant, +beautiful girl who reminded him, he said, of Maddy, only she was +saucier, and more of a tease; not at all like Lucy, whom he described +as something perfectly angelic. Her twenty-fifth birthday found her on +a sickbed, with Dr. Holbrook in attendance, and this was the reason +given why the marriage between herself and Guy was again deferred. +There had been many weeks of pain, succeeded by long, weary months of +languor, and during all this time the doctor had been with her as the +family physician, while Margaret also had been constantly in +attendance. But Lucy was much better now. She could sit up all day, +and even walk a little distance, assisted by the doctor and Margaret, +whose name had become to be almost as familiar to Maddy as was that of +Lucy. And Maddy, in thinking of Margaret, sometimes wondered "if----" +but never went any farther than that. Neither did she ask Guy a word +about her, though she knew he must have seen her. She not say much to +him of Lucy, but she wondered why he did not go for her, and wanted to +talk with him about it but he was so changed that she dared not. He +was not sociable, as of old, and Agnes did not hesitate to call him +cross, while Jessie complained that he never walked or played with her +now, but sat all day long in a deep reverie of some kind. + +On this account Maddy did not look forward to the coming vacation as +joyfully as she would otherwise have done. Still it was, always +pleasant going home, and she sat talking with her young friends of all +they expected to do, when a servant entered the room and glancing over +the group of girls, singled Maddy out saying, as he placed an unsealed +envelope in her hand. "A telegram for Miss Clyde." + +There was a blur before Maddy's eyes, so that at first she could not +see clearly, and Jessie, climbing on the bench beside her, read aloud: + +"Your grandmother is dying. Come at once. Agnes and Jessie will stay +till next week. + + "Guy Remington" + +It was impossible to go that afternoon but with the earliest dawn she +was up, and unmindful of the snow falling so rapidly, started on the +sad journey home. It was the first genuine storm of the season, and it +seemed resolved on making amends for past neglect, sweeping in furious +gusts against the windows sifting down in thick masses from the leaden +sky, and so impeding the progress of the train that the chill wintery +night had closed gloomily in ere the Sommerville station was reached, +and Maddy, weary and dispirited, stepped out upon the platform, +glancing anxiously around for the usual omnibus, which she had little +hope would be there on such a night. If not, what should she do? This +had been the burden of her thoughts for the last few hours, for she +could not expect Guy to send out his horses in this fearful storm, +much less to be there himself. But Guy was there, and it was his voice +which first greeted her as she stood half blinded by the snow, +uncertain what she must do next. + +"Ah, Mr. Remington, I didn't expect this. I am so glad, and how kind +it was of you to wait for me!" she exclaimed, her voice expressing her +delight, and amply repaying the young man, who had not been very +patient or happy through the six long hours of waiting he had endured. + +But he was both happy and patient now with Maddy's hand in his, and +pressing it very gently he led her into the ladies' room; then making +her sit down before the fire he brushed her snowy garments himself, +and dashing a few flakes from her disordered hair, told her what she +so eagerly asked to know. Her grandmother had had a paralytic stroke, +and the only word she had uttered since was "Maddy." Guy had not been +down himself, but had sent Mrs. Noah as soon as Farmer Green had +brought the news. She was there yet, he said, the storm having +prevented her return. + +"And grandma?" Maddy gasped, fixing her eyes wistfully upon him. "You +do not think her dead?" + +No, Guy did not, and stooping he asked if he should not remove from +the dainty little feet resting on the stove hearth the overshoes, so +full of melting snow. Maddy cared little for her shoes, or herself +just then. She hardly knew that Guy was taking them off, much less +that, as he bent beside her, her hand lay lightly upon his shoulder as +she continued her questionings. + +"She is not dead, you say; but do you think-does any-body think she'll +die? Your telegram said 'dying.'" + +Maddy was not to be deceived, and thinking it best to be frank with +her, Guy told her that the physician, whom he had taken pains to see +on his way to the depot, had said there was no hope. Old age and an +impaired constitution precluded the possibility of recovery, but he +trusted she might live till the young lady came. + +"She must--she will! Oh, grandma, why did I ever leave her?" and +burying her face in her hands. Maddy cried passionately, while the +last three years of her Life passed in rapid review before her +mind--years which she had spent in luxurious ease, leaving her +grandmother to toil in the humble cottage, and die at the last, it +might be, without one parting word for her. + +The feeling that perhaps she had been guilty of neglect, was the +bitterest of all, and Maddy wept on, unmindful of Guy's attempts to +soothe and quiet her. At last, as she heard a clock in the adjoining +room strike eight, she started up exclaiming "I have stayed too long. +I must go now. Is there any conveyance here?" + +"But, Maddy," Guy rejoined, "you cannot go to-night. The roads between +here and Honedale are one unbroken snow bank. It would take hours to +break through; besides you are too tired. You need rest, and must come +with me to Aikenside, where you are expected, for when I found how +late the train would be, I sent back word to have your room and +parlors warmed, and a nice hot supper to be ready for us. You'll +surely go with me, if I think best." + +Guy's manner was more like a lover than a friend, but Maddy was in no +state to remark it. She only felt an intense desire to go home, and +turning a deaf ear to all he could urge, replied: "You don't know how +dear grandma is to me, or you would not ask me to stay. She's all the +mother I ever knew, and I must go. Think, would you stay if the one +you loved best was dying?" + +"But the one I love best is not dying, so I can reason clearly, +Maddy." + +Here Guy checked himself, and listened while Maddy asked again if +there was no conveyance there as usual. + +"None but mine," said Guy, while Maddy continued faintly: + +"And you are afraid it will kill your horses?" + +"No, it would only fatigue them greatly; it's for you I fear. You've +borne enough to-day." + +"Then, Mr. Remington, oh, please send me. I shall die at Aikenside. +John will drive me, I know. He used to like me. I'll ask him," and +Maddy was going in quest of the Aikenside coachman, when Guy held her +back, and said: + +"John will go if I bid him. But you, Maddy, if I thought it was safe." + +"It is. Oh, let me go," and Maddy grasped both his hands beseechingly. + +If there was a man who could resist the eloquent appeal of Maddy's +eyes at that moment, the man was not Guy Remington, and leaving her +alone, he sought out John, asking if it would be possible to get +through to Homedale that night. + +John shook his head decidedly, but when Guy explained Maddy's distress +and anxiety, the negro began to relent, particularly as he saw his +young master, too, was interested. + +"It'll kill them horses," he said, "but mabby that's nothin' to please +the girl." + +"If we only had runners now, instead of wheels, John," Guy said, after +a moment's reflection. "Drive back to Aikenside as fast as possible, +and change the carriage for a covered sleigh. Leave the grays at home +and drive a pair of farm horses. They can endure more. Tell Flora to +send my traveling shawl. Miss Clyde may need it, and an extra buffalo, +and a bottle of wine, and my buckskin gloves, and take Tom on with +you, and a snow shovel; we may have to dig." + +"Yes, yes, I know," and tying his muffler about his throat, John +started off through the storm, his mind a confused medley of ideas, +the main points of which were, bottles of wine, snow shovels, and the +fact that his master was either crazy or in love. + +Meanwhile, with the prospect of going home, Maddy had grown quiet, and +did not refuse the temporary supper of buttered toast, muffins, steak +and hot coffee, which Guy ordered from the small hotel just in the +rear of the depot. Tired, nervous, and almost helpless, she allowed +Guy himself to prepare her coffee, taking it from his hand and +drinking it at his bidding as obediently as a child. There was a +feeling of delicious rest in being cared for thus, and but for the +dying one at Honedale she would have enjoyed it vastly. As it was, +though, she never for a moment forgot her grandmother. She did forget, +in a measure, her anxiety, and was able to think how kind, how +exceedingly kind Guy was. He was like what he used to be, she thought, +only kinder, and thinking it was because she was in trouble, she +accepted all his little attentions willingly, feeling how pleasant it +was to have him there, and thinking once with a half shudder of the +long, cold ride before her, when Guy would no longer be present, and +also of the dreary home where death might possibly be a guest ere she +could reach it. + +It was after nine ere John appeared, his crisp wool powdered with snow +which clung to his outer garments, and literally covered his dark, +cloth cap. + +"'Twas mighty deep," he said, bowing to Maddy, "and the wind was +getting colder. 'Twas a hard time Miss Clyde would have, and hadn't +she better wait?" + +No, Maddy could not wait, and standing up she suffered Guy to wrap her +cloak about her, and fasten more securely the long, warm scarf she +wore around her neck. + +"Drive close to the platform," he said to John, and the covered sleigh +was soon brought to the point designated. "Now then, Maddy, I won't +let you run the risk of covering your feet with snow. I shall carry +you myself," Guy said, and ere Maddy was fully aware of his +intentions, he had her in his arms, and was bearing her to the sleigh. + +Very carefully he drew the soft, warm robe about her, shielding her as +well as he could from the cold; then pulling his own fur collar about +his ears, he sprang in beside her, and, closing the door behind him, +bade John drive on. + +"But, Mr. Remington," Maddy exclaimed in much surprise, "surely you +are not going too? You must not. It is asking too much. It is more +than I expected. Please don't go." "Would you rather I should not--that +is, aside from any inconvenience it may be to me--would you rather go +alone?" Guy asked, and Maddy replied: + +"Oh, no. I was dreading the long ride, but did not dream of your +going. You will shorten it so much." "Then I shall be paid for going," +was Guy's response, as he drew still more closely around her the fancy +buffalo robe. + +The roads, though badly drifted in some places, were not as bad as Guy +had feared, and the strong horses kept steadily on; while Maddy, +growing more and more fatigued, at last fell away to sleep, and ceased +to answer Guy, For a time he watched her drooping head, and then +carefully drawing it to him, made it rest upon his shoulder, while he +wound his arm around her slight figure, and so supported her. He knew +she was sleeping quietly, by her gentle breathings; and once or twice +he involuntarily passed his hand caressingly over her soft, round +cheek, feeling the blood tingle to his finger tips as he thought of +his position there, with Maddy Clyde sleeping in his arms. What would +Lucy say, could she see him? And the doctor, with his strict ideas of +right and wrong, would he object? Guy did not know, and, with his +usual independence, he did not care. At least, he said to himself he +did not care; and so, banishing both the doctor and Lucy from his +mind, he abandoned himself to the happiness of the moment--a singular +land of happiness, inasmuch as it merely consisted in the fact that +Maddy Clyde's young head was pillowed on his bosom, and that, by +bending down, he could feel her sweet breath on his face. Occasionally +there flitted across Guy's mind a vague, uneasy consciousness that +though the act was, under the circumstances, well enough, the feelings +which prompted it were not such as either the doctor or Lucy would +approve. But they were far away; they would never know unless he told +them, as he probably should, of this ride on that wintry night; this +ride, which seemed to him so short that he scarcely believed his +senses when, without once having been overturned or called upon to use +the shovels so thoughtfully provided, the carriage suddenly came to a +halt, and he knew by the dim light shining through the low window that +the red cottage was reached. + +Grandma Markham was dying, but she knew Maddy, and the palsied lips +worked painfully as they attempted to utter the loved name; while her +wasted face lighted up with eager joy as Maddy's arms were twined +about her neck, and she felt Maddy's kisses on her cheek and brow. +Could she not speak? Would she never speak again, Maddy asked +despairingly, and her grandfather replied: "Never, most likely. The +only thing she's said since the shock was to call your name; She's +missed you despatly this winter back, more than ever before, I think. +So have we all, but we would not send for you--Mr. Guy said you was +learning so fast." "Oh, grandpa, why didn't you? I would have come so +willingly," and for an instant Maddy's eyes flashed reproachfully upon +the recreant Guy, standing aloof from the little group gathered about +the bed, his arms folded together, and a moody look upon his face. + +He was thinking of what had not yet entered Maddy's mind, thinking of +the future--Maddy's future, when the aged form upon the bed should be +gone, and the two comparatively helpless men be left alone. + +"But it shall not be. The sacrifice is far too great. I can prevent +it, and I will," he muttered to himself, as he turned to watch the +gray dawn breaking in the east. Guy was a puzzle to himself. He would +not admit that during the past year his liking for Maddy Clyde had +grown to be something stronger than mere friendship, nor yet that his +feelings toward Lucy had undergone a change, prompting him not to go +to her when she was sick, and not to be as sorry as he ought that the +marriage was again deferred. Lucy had no suspicion of the change and +her childlike trust in him was the anchor which held him still true to +her in intentions at least, if not in reality. He knew from her +letters how much she had learned to like Maddy Clyde, and so, he +argued, there was no harm in his liking her too. She was a splendid +girl, and it seemed a pity that her lot should have been so humbly +cast. This was usually the drift of his thoughts in connection with +her; and now, as he stood there its that cottage, Maddy's home, they +recurred to him with tenfold intensity, for well he foresaw that a +struggle was before him if he rescued Maddy as he meant to do from her +approaching fate. + +No such thoughts, however, intruded themselves on Maddy's mind. She +did not look away from the present, except it were at the past, in +which she feared she had erred by leaving her grandmother too much +alone. But to her passionate appeals for forgiveness, if she ever had +neglected the dying one, there came back only loving looks and mute +caresses, the aged hand smoothing lovingly the bowed head, or pressing +fondly the girlish cheeks where Guy's hand had been. With the coming +of daylight, however, there was a change; and Maddy, listening +intently, heard what sounded like her name. The tied tongue was loosed +for a little, and in tones scarcely articulate, the disciple who for +long years had served her Heavenly Father faithfully, bore testimony +to the blessed truth that God's promises to those who love Him are not +mere promises--that He will go with them through the river of death, +disarming the fainting soul of every fear, and making the dying bed +the very gate of heaven. This tribute to the Savior was her first +thought, while the second was a blessing for her darling, a charge to +seek the narrow way now in life's early morning. Disjointed sentences +they were, but Maddy understood them all, treasuring up every word +even to the last, the words the farther apart and most painfully +uttered, "You--will--care--and--comfort----" She did not say whom, but +Maddy knew whom she meant; and without then realizing the magnitude of +the act, virtually accepted the burden from which Guy was so anxious +to save her. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +THE BURDEN. + + +Grandma Markham was dead, and the covered sleigh, which late in the +afternoon plowed its way heavily back to Aikenside, carried only Mrs. +Noah, who, with her forehead tied up in knots, sat back among the +cushions, thinking not of the peaceful dead, gone forever to the rest +which remains for the people of God, but of the wayward Guy, who had +resisted all her efforts to persuade him to return with her, instead +of staying where he was, not needed, and where his presence was a +restraint to all save one, and that one Maddy, for whose sake he +stayed. + +"She'd be vummed," the indignant old lady said, "if she would not +write to Lucy herself if Guy did not quit such doin's," and thus +resolving she kept on her way, while the subject of her wrath was, it +may be, more than half repenting of his decision to stay, inasmuch as +he began to have an unpleasant consciousness of himself being in +everybody's way. + +In the first hour of Maddy's bereavement he had not spoken with her, +but had kept himself aloof from the room where, with her grandfather +and Uncle Joseph, she sat, holding the poor aching head of the latter +in her lap and trying to speak a word of consolation to the old, +broken-hearted man, whose hand was grasped in hers. But Maddy knew he +was there. She could hear his voice each time he spoke to Mrs. Noah, +and that made the desolation easier to bear. She did not look forward +to the time when he would be gone; and when at last he told her he was +going, she started quickly, and with a gush of tears, exclaimed: "No, +no! oh, no!" + +"Maddy," Guy whispered, bending over the strange trio, "would you +rather I should stay? Will it be pleasanter for you, if I do?" + +"Yes--I don't know. I guess it would not be so lonely. Oh, it's +terrible to have grandmother dead!" was Maddy's response; after which +Guy would have stayed if a whole regiment of Mrs. Noah's had +confronted him instead of one. + +Maddy wished it; that was reason enough for him; and giving a few +directions to John, he stayed, thereby disconcerting the neighboring +women who came in to perform the last offices for the dead, and who +wished the young man from Aikenside was anywhere but there, watching +them in all their movements, as they vainly fancied he did. But Guy +thought only of Maddy, watching her so carefully that more than one +meaning glance was exchanged between the women, who, even over the +inanimate form of the dead, spoke together of what might possibly +occur, wondering what would be the effect on Grandpa Markham and Uncle +Joseph. Who would take care of them? And then, in case Maddy should +feel it her duty to stay there, as they half hoped she would, they +fell to pitying the young girl, who seemed now so wholly unfitted for +the burden. + +To Maddy there came no definite idea of the future during the two days +that white, rigid form lay in the darkened cottage; but when, at last, +the deep grave made for Grandma Markham was occupied, and the lounge +in the little front room was empty--when the Aikenside carriage, which +had been sent down for the use of the mourners, had been driven away, +taking both Guy and Mrs. Noah--when the neighbors, too, had gone, +leaving only herself and the little hired girl sitting by the evening +fire, with the grandfather and the imbecile Uncle Joseph--then it was +that she first began to fed the pressure of the burden--began to ask +herself if she could live thus always, or at least for many years--as +long as either of the two helpless men were spared. Maddy was young, +and the world as she had seen it was very bright and fair, brighter +far than a life of laborious toil, and for a while the idea that the +latter alternative must be accepted made her dizzy and faint. + +As if divining her thoughts, poor old grandpa, in his prayers that +night, asked in trembling tones, which showed how much he felt what he +was saying, that God would guide his darling in all she did, and give +her wisdom to make the proper decision; that if it were best she might +be happy there with them, but if not, "Oh, Father, Father!" he sobbed, +"help me and Joseph to bear it." He could pray no more aloud, and the +gray head remained bowed down upon his chair, while Uncle Joseph, in +his peculiar way, took up the theme, begging like a very child that +Maddy might be inclined to stay--that no young men with curling hair, +a diamond cross, and smell of musk, might be permitted to come near +her with enticing looks, but that she might stay as she was and die an +old maid forever! This was the subject of Uncle Joseph's prayer, a +prayer which set the little hired girl to tittering, and would have +wrung a smile from Maddy herself had she not felt all the strange +petition implied. + +With waywardness natural to people in his condition, Uncle Joseph that +night turned to Maddy for the little services his sister had formerly +rendered, and which, since her illness, Grandpa Markham had done, and +would willingly do still. But Joseph refused to let him. Maddy must +untie his cravat, unbutton his vest, and take off his shoes, while, +after he was in bed, Maddy must sit by his side, holding his hand +until he fell away to sleep. And Maddy did it cheerfully, soothing him +into quiet, and keeping back her own choking sorrow for the sake of +comforting him. Then, when this task was done she sought her +grandfather, still sitting before the kitchen fire and evidently +waiting for her. The little hired girl had retired, and thus there was +no barrier to free conversation between them. + +"Maddy," the old man said, "come sit close by me, where I can look +into your face, while we talk over what must be done." + +With a half shudder, Maddy drew a stool to her grandfather's feet, and +resting her head upon his knee, listened while he talked to her of the +future; told her all her grandmother had done; told of his own +helplessness; of the trial it was to care for Uncle Joseph, and then +in faltering tones asked who was going to look after them now. "We +can't live here alone, Maddy. We can't. We're old and weak, and want +some one to lean on. Oh, why didn't God take us with her, Joseph and +me, and that would leave you free, to go back to the school and the +life which I know is pleasanter than to stay here with us. Oh, Maddy! +it comforts me to look at you--to hear your voice, to know that though +I don't see you every minute, you are somewhere, and by and by you'll +come in. I shan't live long, and maybe Joseph won't. God's promise is +to them who honor father and mother. It'll be hard for you to stay, +harder than it was once; but, Maddy, oh, Maddy! stay with me, stay +with me!--stay with your old grandpa!" + +In his earnestness he grasped her arm, as if he thus would hold her, +while the tears rained over his wrinkled face. For a moment Maddy made +no response. She had no intention of leaving him, but the burden was +pressing heavily and her tongue refused to move. Maddy was then a +stranger to the religion which was sustaining her grandfather in his +great trouble, but the teachings of her childhood had not been in +vain. She was God's covenant child. His protecting presence was over +and around her, moving her to the right. New York, with its gay +sights, her school, where in another year she was to graduate, the +trip to the Catskills which Guy had promised Mrs. Agnes, Jessie and +herself, Aikenside with its luxurious ease--all these must be given +up, while, worse than all the rest, Guy, too, must be given up. He +would not come there often; the place was not to his taste, and in +time he would cease to care for her as he cared for her now. "Oh, that +would be dreadful!" she groaned aloud, while here thoughts went +backward to that night ride in the snowstorm, and the numberless +attentions he had paid her then. She would never ride with him +again--never; and Maddy moaned bitterly, as she began to realize +for the first time how much she liked Guy Remington, and how the +giving him up and his society was the hardest part of all. But Maddy +had a brave young heart, and at last, winding her arms around her +grandfather's neck, she whispered: "I will not leave you, grandpa. +I'll stay in grandmother's place." + +Surely Heaven would answer the blessings whispered over Maddy by the +delighted old man, and the young girl taking so cheerfully the burden +from which many would have shrunk, should be blessed by God. + +With her grandfather's hand upon her head, Maddy could almost feel +that the blessing was descending; but when, in her own room, the one +where she had lain sick for so many weary weeks, her courage began to +give way, and the burden, magnified tenfold by her nervous weakness, +looked heavier than she could bear. How could she stay there, going +through each day with the same routine of literal drudgery--drudgery +which would not end until the two for whom she made the sacrifice were +dead. + +"Oh, is there no way of escape, no help?" she moaned, as she tossed +from side to side, "Must my life be wasted here. Surely---" + +Maddy did not finish the sentence, for something checked the words of +repining, and she seemed to hear again her grandfather's voice as it +repeated the promise to those who keep with their whole souls the +fifth commandment. + +"I will, I will," she cried, while into her heart there crept an +intense longing for the love of him who alone could make her task a +light one. "If I were good like grandma, I could bear everything," she +thought, and turning upon her pillow, Maddy prayed an earnest, +childlike prayer, that God would help her do night, that He would take +from her the proud spirit which rebelled against her lot because of +its loneliness, that pride and love of her own ease and advancement in +preference to others' good might all be subdued; in short that she +might be God's child, walking where He appointed her to walk without a +murmur, and doing cheerfully His will. + +Aikenside, and school, and the Catskill Mountains were easier to +abandon after that contrite prayer; but when she thought of Guy, the +fiercest, sharpest pang she had ever felt shot through her heart, +making her cry out so quickly that the little hired girl who shared +her bed moved as if about to waken, but Maddy lay very quiet until all +was still again, when turning a second time to God she tried to pray, +tried to give up what to her was the dearest idol, but she could not +say the words, and ere she knew what she was doing she found herself +asking that Guy should not forsake her. "Let him come," she sobbed, +"let Guy come some time to see me". + +Once the tempter whispered to her, that had she accepted Dr. Holbrook +she would have been spared all this, but Maddy turned a deaf ear to +that suggestion. Dr. Holbrook was too noble a man to have an unloving +wife, and not for a moment did she repent of her decision with regard +to him. She almost knew he would say now that she was right in +refusing him, and right in staying there, as she must. Thoughts of the +doctor quieted her, she believed, not knowing that Heaven was already +owning its submissive child, and breathing upon it a soothing +benediction. The moan of the winter wind and the sound of the snow +beating against her little window ceased to annoy her. Heaven, +happiness, Aikenside and Guy, all seem blended into one great good +just within her reach, and when the long clock below the stairs struck +three, she did not hear it, but with the tear stains upon her face she +lay nestled among her pillows, dreaming that her grandmother had come +back from the bright world of glory to bless her darling child. + +It was broad noon ere Maddy awoke, and starting up she looked about +her in bewilderment, wondering where she was and what agency had been +at work in her room, transforming it from the cold, comfortless +apartment she had entered the previous night into the cheery-looking +chamber, with a warm fire blazing in the tiny fireplace, a rug spread +down upon the hearth, a rocking-chair drawn up before it, and all +traces of the little hired girl as completely obliterated as if she +had never been. In her grief Maddy seemed to have forgotten how to +make things cozy, and as, during her grandmother's illness, her own +room had been left to the care of the hired girl, Nettie, it wore a +neglected, rude aspect, which had grated on Maddy's finer feelings, +and made everything so uninviting. But this morning all was changed. +Some skillful hand had been busy there while she slept, and Maddy was +wondering who it could be, when the door opened cautiously and Flora's +good-humored face looked in--Flora from Aikenside. Maddy knew now to +whom she was indebted for all this comfort, and with a cry of joy she +welcomed the girl, whose very presence brought back something of the +life with which she had parted forever. + +"Flora," she exclaimed, "how came you here, and did you make this fire +and fix the room for me?" + +"Yes, I made the fire," Flora replied, "and fixed up the things a +little, hustlin' that young one's goods out of here; because it was +not fittin' for you to be sleepin' with her. Mr. Guy was mad enough +when he found it out." + +"Mr. Guy, Flora? How should he know of our sleeping "rrangements?" +Maddy asked, but Flora evaded a direct reply, saying, "there was +enough ways for things to get to Aikenside;" then continuing, "How +tired you must be, Miss Maddy, to sleep so sound as never to hear me +at all, though to be sure I tried to be still as a mouse. But let me +help you dress. It's all but noon, and you must be hungry. I've got +your breakfast all ready." + +"Thank you, Flora, I can dress myself," Maddy said, stepping out upon +the floor, and feeling that the world was not as dark as it had seemed +to her when last night she came up to her chamber. + +God was comforting her already, and as she made her simple toilet, she +tried to thank Him for His goodness, and ask for grace to make her +what she ought to be. + +"You have not yet told me why you came here," she said to Flora, who +was busy making her bed, and who replied: "It's Mr. Guy's work. He +thought I'd better come, as you would need help to get things set to +rights, to could go back to school." + +Maddy felt her heart coming up in her throat, but she answered calmly, +"Mr. Guy is very kind--so are you all; but, Flora, I am not going back +to school." "Not going back!" and Flora stopped her bed-making, while +she stared blankly at Maddy. "What be you going to do?" "Stay here and +take care of grandpa," Maddy said, bathing her face and neck in the +cold water, which could not cool the feverish heat she felt spreading +all over them. "Stay here! You are crazy, Miss Maddy! 'Tain't no place +for a girl like you, and Mr. Guy never will suffer it, I know," Flora +rejoined, as she resumed her work, thinking she "should die to be +moped up in that nutshell of a house." With a little sigh as she +foresaw the opposition she should probably meet with from Guy, Maddy +went on with her toilet, which was soon completed, as it did not take +long to arrange the dark calico dress and plain linen collar which she +wore. She was not as fresh-looking as usual that morning, for +excitement and fatigue had lent a paleness to her cheek, and a languor +to her whole appearance, but Flora, who glanced anxiously after her as +she went out, muttered to herself, "She was never more beautiful, and +I don't wonder an atom that Mr. Guy thinks so much of her." The +kitchen was in perfect order, for Flora had been busy there as +elsewhere. The kettle was boiling on the stove, while two or three +little covered dishes were ranged upon the hearth, as if waiting for +some one. Grandpa Markham had gone out, but Uncle Joseph sat in his +accustomed corner, rubbing his hands when he saw Maddy, and nodding +mysteriously toward the front room, the door of which was open, so +that Maddy could hear the fire crackling on the hearth. + +"Go in, go in," Uncle Joseph said, waving his hand in that direction. +"My Lord Governor is in there waiting for you. He won't let me spit on +the floor any more as Martha did, and I've swallowed so much that I'm +almost choked." + +Continual spitting was one of Uncle Joseph's worst habits, and as his +sister had indulged him in it, it had become a source of great +annoyance both to Maddy, and to some one else of whose proximity Maddy +did not dream. Thinking that Uncle Joseph referred to her grandfather, +and feeling glad that the latter had attempted a reform, she entered +the room known at the cottage as the parlor, the one where the rag +carpet was, the six cane-seated chairs and the Boston rocker, and +where now the little round table was nicely laid for two, while cozily +seated in the rocking-chair, reading last night's paper, and looking +very handsome and happy, was Guy! + +When Maddy prayed that he might come and see her she did not expect an +answer so soon, and she started back in much surprise, while Guy came +easily forward to greet her, asking how she was, once telling her she +looked tired and thin, then making her take the chair he had vacated, +he stood over her, smoothing her hair, while he continued: + +"I have taken some liberties, you see, and have made myself quite at +home. I knew how unaccustomed you were to the duties of a house, and +as I saw that girl was wholly incompetent, I denied myself at least +two hours' sleep this morning for the sake of getting here early, +bringing Flora with me and a few things which I thought would be for +your comfort. You must excuse me, but Flora looked so cold when she +came down from your chamber, where I sent her to see how you were, +that with your grandfather's permission I ordered a fire to be kindled +there. I hope you found it comfortable. This house is very cold." + +He kept talking on, and Maddy in a delicious kind of bewilderment +listened to him, wondering if ever before there was a person so kind +and good as Guy. And really Guy was doing great violence to his pride +by being there as he was, but he could do anything for Maddy, and so +he had forced down his pride, trying for her sake to make the cottage +as pleasant as possible. With Flora to assist he had succeeded +wonderfully, and was really enjoying it himself. At first Maddy could +not thank him, her heart was so full, but Guy was satisfied with the +expression of her face, and calling Flora he bade her serve the +breakfast. + +"You know my habits," he said, smilingly, as he took a seat at the +table, "and breakfasting at daylight, as I did, has given me an +appetite; so, with your permission, I'll carve this nice bit of steak +for you, while you pour me a cup of coffee, some of Mrs. Noah's best. +She"--Guy was going to say, "sent it," but as no stretch of the +imagination could construe her "calling him a fool" into sending Maddy +coffee, he added instead, "I brought it from Aikenside, together with +this strawberry jelly, of which I remember you were fond;" and he +helped Maddy lavishly from the fanciful jelly jar which yesterday was +adorning the sweetmeat closet at Aikenside. + +How chatty and social he was, trying to cheer Maddy up and make her +forget that such a thing as death had so lately found entrance there; +talking of Jessie, of Aikenside, of the pleasant little time they +would have during the vacation, and of the next term at school, when +Maddy, as one of the graduating class, would not be kept in as +strictly as heretofore, but allowed to see more of the city. Maddy +felt as if she should die for the pain tugging at her heart, while she +listened to him and knew that the pictures he was drawing were not for +her. Her place was there; and after the breakfast was over and Flora +had cleared the dishes away, she shut the door, so that they might be +alone, and then standing before Guy, she told him of her resolution, +begging of him to help her and not make it harder to bear by devising +means for her to escape what she felt to be an imperative duty. Guy +had expected something like this and was prepared, as he thought, to +combat all her arguments; so when she had finished, he replied that of +course he did not wish to interfere with her duty, but there might be +a question as to what really was her duty, and it seemed to him he was +better able to judge of that than herself. It was not right for her to +bury herself there while her education was unfinished, when another +could do as well. Her superior talents were given to her to improve, +and how could she improve them in Honedale; besides her grandfather +did not expect her to stay. Guy had talked with him while she was +asleep, and the matter was all arranged; a competent woman was to be +hired to take charge of the domestic arrangements, and if it seemed +desirable, two should be procured; anything to leave Maddy free. + +"And grandpa consented to this willingly?" Maddy said, feeling a throb +of pleasure at thoughts of release. But Guy could not answer that the +grandfather consented willingly. + +"He thinks it best. When he comes back you can ask him yourself," he +said, just as Uncle Joseph, opening the door, brought their interview +to a close by asking very meekly, "if it would please the Lord +Governor to let him spit!" + +The blood rushed at once to Maddy's face, and she not repress a smile, +white Guy laughed aloud, saying to her softly: "For your sake, I tried +my skill to stop what I knew must annoy you. Pardon me if I did +wrong;" then turning to Uncle Joseph, he gave the desired permission, +together with the promise of a handsome spittoon, which should be sent +down on the morrow. With a bow Uncle Joseph turned away, muttering to +himself, "High doings now Martha's gone; but new lords, new laws. I +trust he's not going to live here;" and slyly he asked Flora if the +Lord Governor had brought his things! + +At this point Grandpa Markham came in, and to him Guy appealed at once +to know if he were not willing for Maddy to return to school. + +"I said she might if she thought best," was the reply, spoken so sadly +that Maddy's arms were at once twined around the old man's neck, while +she said to him: + +"Tell me honestly which you prefer. I'd like so much to go to school, +but I am not sure I should be happy there, knowing how lonely you were +here at home. Say, grandpa, which would you rather now, honor bright?" +and Maddy tried to speak playfully, though her heart-beats were almost +audible as she waited for the answer. + +Grandpa could not deceive. He wanted his darling sorely, and he wanted +her to be happy, he said. Perhaps they would get on just as well +without her. When Mr. Guy was talking it looked as if they might, he +made it all so plain, but the sight of Maddy was a comfort. She was +all he had left. Maybe he shouldn't live long to pester her, and if he +didn't wouldn't she always feel better for having stayed with her old +grandpa to the last? + +He looked very pale and thin, and his hair was white as snow. He could +not live many years, and turning resolutely from Guy, who, so long as +he held her eye, controlled her, Maddy said: + +"I've chosen once for all. I'll stay with grandpa till he dies," and +with a convulsive sob she clung tightly to his neck, as if fearful +that without such told on him her resolution would give way. + +It was in vain that Guy strove to change Maddy's resolution. She was +wholly decided, and late in the afternoon he rode back to Aikenside, a +disappointed man, with, however, the feeling that Maddy had done +right, and that he respected her all the more for withstanding the +temptation. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +LIFE AT THE COTTAGE. + + +It was arranged that Flora should for the present at least remain at +the cottage, and Maddy accepted the kindness gratefully. She had +become so much accustomed to being cared for by Guy that she almost +looked upon it as a matter of course, and did not think of what others +might possibly say, but when, in as delicate a manner as possible Guy +suggested furnishing the cottage in better style, even proposing to +modernize it entirely in the spring, Maddy objected at once. "They +were already indebted to him for more than they could ever pay," she +said, and she would not suffer it. So Guy submitted, though it grated +upon his sense of the beautiful and refined terribly, to see Maddy +amid so humble surroundings. Twice a week, and sometimes oftener, he +rode down to Honedale, and Maddy felt that without these visits life +would hardly have been endurable. + +During the vacation Jessie spent a part of the time with her, but +Agnes resolutely resisted all Guy's entreaties that she would at least +call once on Maddy, who had expressed a wish to see her, and who, on +account of her grandfather's health, and the childishness with which +Uncle Joseph clung to her, could not well come up to Aikenside. Agnes +would not go down, neither would she give other reason for her +obstinacy than the apparently foolish one that she did not wish to see +the crazy man. Still she did not object to Jessie's going as often as +she liked, and she sent by her many little delicacies from the larder +at Aikenside, some for grandpa, but most for Uncle Joseph, who prized +highly everything coming from "the madam," and sent back to her more +than one strangely worded message which made the proud woman's eyes +overflow when sure that no one could see her. But this kind of +intercourse came to an end at last. The vacation was over, Jessie had +gone back to school, and Maddy began in sober earnest the new life +before her. Flora, it is true, relieved her of all household drudgery, +but no one could share the burden of care and anxiety pressing so +heavily upon her, anxiety for her grandfather, whose health seemed +failing so fast, and who always looked so disturbed if a shadow were +resting on her bright face, or her voice were less cheerful in its +tone, and care for the imbecile Joseph, who clung to her as a puny +child clings to its mother, refusing to be cared for by any one else, +and often requiring of her more than her strength could endure for a +great length of time. She it was who gave him his breakfast in the +morning, amused him through the day, and then, after he was in bed at +night, often sat by his side till a late hour, singing to him old +songs, or telling Bible stories until he fell away to sleep. Then if +he awoke, as he frequently did, there was a cry for Maddy, and the +soothing process had to be repeated, until the tired, pale watcher +ceased to wonder that her grandmother had died so suddenly, wondering +rather that she had lived so long and borne so much. + +Those were dark, wearisome days to Maddy, and the long, cold winter +was gone from the New England hills, and the early buds of spring were +coming up by the cottage door, the neighbors began to talk of the +change which had come over the young girl, once so full of life and +health, but now so languid and pale. Still Maddy was not unhappy, nor +was the discipline too severe, for by it she learned at last the great +object of life; learned to take her troubles and cares to One who +helped her bear them so cheerfully, that those who pitied her most +never dreamed how heavy was her burden, so patiently and sweetly she +bore it. Occasionally there came to her letters from the doctor, but +latterly they gave her less pleasure than pain, for as sure as she +read one of his kind, friendly messages of sympathy and remembrance, +the tempter whispered to her that though she did not love him as she +ought to love her husband, yet a life with him was far preferable to +the life she was living, and a receipt of his letters always gave her +a pang which lasted until Guy came down to see her, when it usually +disappeared. Agnes was now at Aikenside, and thus Maddy frequently had +Jessie at the cottage, but Agnes never came, and Maddy little guessed +how often the proud woman cried herself to sleep after listening to +Jessie's recital of all Maddy had to do for the crazy man, and how +patiently she did it. He had taken a fancy that Maddy must tell him +stories of Sarah, describing her as she was now, not as she used to be +when he knew her, but now. "What is she now? How does she look? What +does she wear? Tell me, tell me!" he would plead, until Maddy, forced +to tell him something, and having distinctly in her mind but one +fashionable woman such as she fancied Sarah might be, told him of +Agnes Remington, describing her as she was in her mature beauty, with +her heavy flowing curls, her brilliant color, her flashing diamonds +and costly laces, and Uncle Joseph, listening to her with parted lips +and hushed breath, would whisper softly, "Yes, that's Sarah, beautiful +Sarah; but tell me--does she ever think of me, or of that time in Hie +orchard when I wove the apple blossoms in her hair, where the diamonds +are now? She loved me then; she told me so. Does she know how sick, +and sorry, and foolish I am?--how the aching in my poor, simple brain +is all for her, and how you, Maddy, are doing for me what it is her +place to do? Had I a voice," and the crazy man now grew excited, as, +raising himself in bed, he gesticulated wildly, "had I a voice to +reach her, I'd cry shame on her, to let you do her work, let you-wear +your young life and fresh, bright beauty all away for me, whom she +ruined." + +The voice he craved, or the echo of it, did reach her, for Jessie had +been present when the fancy first seized him to hear of Sarah, and in +the shadowy twilight she told her mother all, dwelling most upon the +touching sadness of his face when he said, "Does she know how sick and +sorry I am?" + +The pillow which Agnes pressed that night was wet with tears, while in +her heart was planted a germ of gratitude and respect for the young +girl doing her work for her. All that she could do for Maddy without +going directly to her, she did, devising many articles of comfort, +sending her fruit and flowers, the last new book, or whatever else she +thought might please her, and always finding a willing messenger in +Guy. He was miserable, and managed when at home to make others so +around him. The sight of Maddy bearing her burden so uncomplainingly +almost maddened him. Had she fretted or complained could bear it +better, he said, but he did not see the necessity for her to lose all +her spirit or interest in everything and everybody. Once when he +hinted as much to Maddy, he had been awed into silence by the subdued +expression of her face as she told him in part what it was which +helped her to bear and made the rough places so smooth. He had seen +something like this in Lucy, when paroxysms of pain were racking her +delicate frame, but he could not understand it; he only knew it was +something he could not touch--something against which his arguments +beat helplessly, and so, with an added respect for Maddy Clyde, he +smothered his impatience, and determining to help her all he could, +rode down to Honedale every day, instead of twice a week, as he had +done before. + +Attentions so marked could not fail to be commented upon; and while +poor, unsuspecting Maddy was deriving so much comfort from his daily +visits, deeming that day very long which did not bring him to her, the +Honedale gossips, of which there were many, were busy with her +affairs, talking them over at their numerous tea-drinkings, discussing +them in the streets, and finally at a quilting, where they met in +solemn conclave, deciding, that, "for a girl like Maddy Clyde it did +not look well to have so much to do with that young Remington, who, +everybody knew, was engaged to a somebody in England." + +"Yes, and would have been married long ago, if it wasn't for this +foolin' with Maddy," chimed in Mrs. Joel Spike, throwing the chalk +across the quilt to her sister, Tripheny Marvel, who wondered if Maddy +thought he'd ever have her. + +"Of course he wouldn't. He knew what he was about. He was not green +enough to marry Grandpa Markham's daughter; and if she didn't look +out, she'd get herself into a pretty scrape. It didn't look well, +anyhow, for her to be putting on airs, as she had done ever since big +folks took her up, and she guessed she wouldn't be beholden to nobody +for her larnin'." + +All this and much more was discussed, and by the time the patchwork +thing was done, there remained but little to be said either for or +against Guy Remington and Maddy Clyde which had not been said by +either friend or foe. + +Among the invited guests at that quilting was the wife of Farmer +Green, Maddy's warmest friend in Honedale, and the one who did her +best to defend her against the attacks of those whose remarks she well +knew were caused more by envy than any personal dislike to Maddy, who +used to be so much of a pet until her superior advantages separated +her in a measure from them. Good Mrs. Green was sorely tried. Without +in the least blaming Maddy, she, too, had been troubled at the +frequency of Guy's Visits to the cottage. It was not friendship alone +which took him there, she was sure; and knowing that he was engaged, +she feared for Maddy's happiness at first, and afterward, when people +began to talk, she feared for her good name. Something must be done, +and though she dreaded it greatly, she was the one to do it. +Accordingly, next day she started for the cottage, which Guy had just +left, and this, in her opinion, accounted for the bright color in +Maddy's cheek and the sparkle in her eye. Guy had been there, bringing +and leaving a world of sunshine, but, alas, his chances for coming +ever again as he had done were fearfully small, when, at the close of +Mrs. Green's well-meant visit, Maddy lay on her bed, her white, +frightened face buried in the pillows, and herself half wishing she +had died before the last hour had come, with the terrible awakening it +had brought; awakening to the fact that of all living beings, Guy +Remington was the one she loved the best--the one without whose +presence it seemed to her she could not live, but without which she +now knew she must. + +With the best of intentions Mrs. Green had made a bungle of the whole +affair, but had succeeded in giving Maddy a general impression that +folks were talking awfully about Guy's coming there, and doing for her +so much like an accepted lover, when everybody knew he was engaged, +and wouldn't be likely to marry a poor girl if he wasn't; that unless +she wanted to be ruined teetotally, and lose all her friends, she must +contrive to stop his visits, and not see him so much. + +"Yes, I'll do anything, only please leave me now," Maddy gasped, her +face as white as ashes and her eyes fixed pleadingly upon Mrs. Green, +who, having been young herself, guessed the truth, and, as she arose +to go, laid her motherly hand on Maddy's head, saving kindly: + +"Poor child, it's hard to bear now, but you'll get over it in time." + +"Get over it," Maddy moaned, as she shut and bolted the door after +Mrs. Green, and then threw herself upon the bed, "I never shall till I +die." + +She almost felt that she was dying then, so desolate and so dreary the +future looked to her. What was life worth without Guy, and why had she +been thrown so much in his way; why permitted to love him as she knew +she did, if she must lose him now? Maddy could not cry; there was a +tightness about her eyes, and a keen, cutting pain about her heart as +she tried to pray for strength to do what was right--strength to cast +Guy Remington from her heart where it was a sin for him to be; and +then she asked to be forgiven for the wrong she had unwittingly done +to Lucy Atherstone, who trusted implicitly, and who, in her last +letter, had said: + +"If I had not so much faith in Guy I should be jealous of one who has +so many opportunities for stealing his heart from me. But I trust you, +Maddy Clyde. You would not do a thing to harm me, I am sure, and to +lose Guy now, after these years of cruel waiting, would kill me." + +Sweet Lucy, there was in her heart a faint stirring of fear lest +Maddy Clyde might be a shadow in her pathway, else she had never +written that to her. But Lucy's cause was safe in Maddy's hands. +Always too high-souled to do a treacherous act, she was now sustained +by another and holier principle, which of itself would have kept her +from the wrong. But for a few moments Maddy abandoned herself to the +bliss of fancying what it would be to be loved by Guy Remington, even +as she loved him. And as she thought, there crept into her heart the +certainty that in some degree he did love her; that his friendship was +more than a mere liking for the girl to whom he had been so kind. In +Lucy's absence she was essential to his happiness, and that was why he +sought her society so much. Remembering everything that had passed, +but more particularly the incidents of that memorable night ride to +Honedale with all that had followed since, she could not doubt it, and +softly to herself she whispered, "He loves me, he loves me," while +little throbs of joy beat all over her heart; but only for an instant, +and then the note of joy was changed to sorrow as she thought how she +must henceforth seek to kill that love, both for her own sake and +Lucy's. Guy must not come there any more. She could not bear it now, +even if the neighbors had never meddled with her. She could not see +him as she had done, and not betray her real feelings toward him. He +had been there that day; he would come again tomorrow. She could see +him now just as he would look coming up the walk, easy and self- +possessed, confident of his reception, his handsome face beaming all +over with kind thoughtfulness for her, and his voice full of tender +concern as he asked how she was, and bade Flora see that she did not +overtax herself, and all this must cease. She had seen it, heard it +for the last time. No wonder that Maddy's heart fainted within her, as +she thought how desolate, how dreary would be the days when Guy no +longer came. But the victory was gained at last, and strength imparted +for the task she had to do. + +Going to the table she opened her portfolio, the gift of Guy, and with +her gold pen, also his gift, wrote to him what the neighbors were +saying, and that he must come there no more; at least, only once in a +great while, because if he did, she could not see him. Then, when this +was written, she went down to Uncle Joseph, beginning to call for her, +and sat by him as usual, singing to him the songs he loved so well, +and which this night pleased him especially, because the voice which +sang them was so plaintive, so full of woe. Would he never go to +sleep, or the hand which held hers so firmly relax its hold? Never, it +seemed to Maddy, who sat and sang, while the night-bird on a distant +tree, awakened by the low song, uttered a responsive note, and the +hours crept on to midnight. Human nature could endure no more, and +when the crazy man said to her, "Now sing of Him who died on Calvary," +Maddy's answer was a gaping cry as she fell fainting on the pillow. + +"It was only a nervous headache," she said to the frightened Flora, +who came at Uncle Joseph's call, and helped her young mistress up to +bed. "She should be better in the morning, and she would rather be +alone." + +So Flora left her there, but went often to her door, until assured by +the low breathing sound that Maddy was sleeping at last. It was a +heavy sleep, and when Maddy awakened from it the pain in her temples +was there still; she could not rise, and half glad that she could not, +inasmuch as her illness would be a reason why she could not see Guy if +he came. She did not know he was here already, until she heard his +voice speaking to her grandfather. It was later than she imagined, and +he had ridden down early because he could not stay away. + +"I can't see him, Flora," Maddy said, when the latter came up with the +message that Mr. Remington was there with his buggy, and asked if a +little ride would not do her good. "I can't see him, but give him +this," and she placed in Flora's hand the note, baptized with so many +tears and prayers, and the contents of which made Guy furious; not at +her, but at the neighbors, the inquisitive, envious, ignorant, +meddlesome neighbors, who had dared to talk of him, or to breathe a +suspicious word against Maddy Clyde. He would see; he would make them +sorry for it; they should take back every word; and they should beg +Maddy's forgiveness for the pain they had caused her. + +All this, and much more, Guy thought, as with Maddy's note in his hand +he walked up and down the sitting-room, raging like a young lion, and +threatening vengeance upon everybody. This was not the first +intimation Guy had received of the people's gossip, for only that +morning Mrs. Noah had hinted that his course was not at all calculated +to do Maddy any good, while Agnes had repeated to him some things +which she had heard touching the frequency of his visits to Honedale; +but these were nothing to the calmly worded message which banished him +effectually from Maddy's presence. He knew Maddy, and he knew, she +meant what she wrote, but he could not have it so. He must see her; he +would see her; and so for the next half hour Flora was the bearer of +written messages to and from Maddy's room; messages of earnest +entreaty on the one hand, and of firm denial on the other. At last +Maddy wrote: + +"If you care for me in the least, or for my respect, leave me, and do +not come again until I send for you. I am not insensible to your +kindness. I feel it all; but the world is nearer right than you +suppose. It does not look well for you to come here so much, and I +prefer that you should not. Justice to Lucy requires that you stay +away." + +That ended it! That roused up Guy's pride, and writing back: + +"You shall be obeyed. Good-by." He sprang into his buggy, and Maddy, +listening, with head and heart throbbing alike, heard him as he drove +furiously away. + +Those were long, dreary days which followed, and but for her +grandfather's increasing feebleness Maddy would almost have died. +Anxiety for him, however, kept her from dwelling too much upon +herself, but the excitement sad the care wore upon her sadly, robbing +her eye of its luster and her cheek of its remaining bloom, making +even Mrs. Noah cry when she came one day with Jessie to see how they +were getting on. She had heard from Guy of his banishment, and now +that he stayed away, she was ready to step in; so she came, laden with +sympathy and other more substantial comforts brought from the +Aikenside larder. + +Maddy was glad to see her, and for a time cried softly on her bosom, +while Mrs. Noah's tears kept company with hers. Not a word was said of +Guy, except when Jessie told her he was gone to Boston, and it was so +stupid at home without him. + +With more than her ordinary discretion, Flora kept to herself what had +passed when Guy was last there, so Mrs. Noah knew nothing except what +he had told her, and what she read in Maddy's white, suffering face. +This last was enough to excite all her pity, and she treated the young +girl with the most motherly kindness saying all night, and herself +taking care of grandpa, who was now too ill to sit up. There seemed to +be no disease preying upon him, nothing save old age, and the loss of +one who for more than forty years had shared all his joy and sorrow. +He could not live without her, and one night, three weeks after Guy's +dismissal, he said to Maddy, as she was about to leave him: + +"Sit with me, darling, for a little while, if you are not too tired. +Your grandmother seems near me to-night, and so does Alice, your +mother. Maybe I'll be with them before another day. I hope I may if +God is willing, and there's much I would say to you." + +He was very pale, and the great sweat drops stood on his forehead and +under his white hair, but Maddy wiped them away and listened with a +breaking heart while the aged disciple almost home told her of the +peace, the joy, that shone around his pathway to the tomb, and of the +everlasting arm bearing him so gently over Jordan. Then he talked of +herself, blessing her for all she had been to him, telling her how +happy she had made his life since she came home to stay, and how for a +time he had ached so with fear lest she should choose to go back and +leave him to a stranger. "But my darling stayed with her old grandpa. +She'll never be sorry for it, never. I've tried you sometimes, I know, +for old folks ain't like young; but I'm sorry, Maddy, and you'll +forget it when I'm gone, darling Maddy, precious child;" and the +trembling hand rested caressingly on her bowed head as grandpa went on +to speak of his affairs, his little property which was hers after the +mortgage to Mr. Guy was paid. "I've kept up the interest," he said, +"but I could never get him to take any of the principal. I don't know +why he is so good to me. Tell him, Maddy, how I thanked and blessed +him just before I died; tell him how I used to pray for him every day +that he might choose the better part. And he will--I'm sure he will, +some day. He hasn't been here of late, and though my old eyes are dim, +I can see that your step has got slow, and your face whiter by many +shades, since he stayed away. Maddy, child, the dead tell no secrets, +and I shall soon be dead. Tell me, then, what it is between you two. +Does my girl love Mr. Guy?" + +"Oh, grandpa! grandpa!" Maddy moaned, laying her head beside his own +on the pillow. + +It would be a relief to talk with some one of that terrible pain, +which grew worse every day; of that intense longing just for one sight +of the beloved one; of Guy, still absent from Aikenside, wandering +nobody knew where; and so Maddy told the whole story, while the dying +man listened to her, and smoothing her silken hair, tried to comfort +her. + +"The worst is not over yet," he said. "Guy will offer to make you his +wife, sacrificing Lucy for you, and if he does, what will my darling +do?" + +Maddy's heart leaped up into her throat, and for a moment prevented +her from answering, for the thought of Guy's really offering to make +her his wife, to shield her from evil, to enfold her in his tender +love, made her giddy with joy. But it could not be, and she answered +through her tears: + +"I shall tell him no." + +"God bless my Maddy! She will tell him no for Lucy's sake, and God +will bring it right at last," the old man whispered, his voice growing +very faint and tremulous. "She will tell him no," he kept repeating, +until, rousing up to greater consciousness, he spoke of Uncle Joseph, +and asked what Maddy would do with him; would she send him back to the +asylum, or care for him there? "He will be happier here," he said, +"but it is asking too much of a young girl like you. He may live for +years." + +"I do not know, grandpa. I hope I may do right. I think I shall keep +Uncle Joseph with me," Maddy replied, a shudder creeping over her as +she thought of living out all her youth and possibly middle age with a +lunatic. + +But her grandfather's whispered blessings brought comfort with them, +and a calm quiet fell upon her as she sat there listening to the words +of prayer, and catching now and then her own name and that of Guy's. + +"I am drowsy, Maddy. Watch while I sleep. Perhaps I'll never wake +again," grandpa said, and clasping Maddy's hands he fell away to +sleep, while Maddy kept her watch beside him, herself falling into a +troubled sleep, from which she was aroused by a clammy hand pressing +on her forehead, and Uncle Joseph's voice, which said: "Wake, my +child. There's been a guest here while you slumbered," and he pointed +to the rigid features of the newly dead. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +THE BURDEN GROWS HEAVIER. + + +Of the days which followed, Maddy had no distinct consciousness. She +only knew that other hands than hers cared for the dead, that in the +little parlor a stiff, white figure lay, that neighboring women stole +in, treading on tiptoe, and speaking in hushed voices as they +consulted, not her, but Mrs. Noah, who had come at once, and cared for +her and hers so kindly. That she lay all day in her own room, where +the summer breeze blew softly through the window, bringing the perfume +of summer flowers, the sound of a tolling bell, of grinding wheels, +the notes of a low, sad hymn, sung in faltering tones, and of many +feet moving from the door. Then friendly faces looked in upon her, +asking how she felt, and whispering ominously to each other as she +answered: + +"Very well; is grandpa getting better?" + +Then Mrs. Noah sat with her for a time, fanning her with a palm-leaf +fan and brushing the flies away. Then Flora came up with a man whom +they called "Doctor," and who gave his sundry little pills and powders +dissolved in water, after which they all went out and left her there +with Jessie who had been crying, and whose soft little hands felt so +cool on her hot head, and whose kisses on her lips made the tears +start, and brought a thought of Guy, making her ask, "if he was at the +funeral." She did not know whose funeral, or why she used that word, +only it seemed to her that Jessie just came back from somebody's +grave, and she asked if Guy was there. "No," Jessie said; "mother +wanted to write and tell him, but we don't know where he is." + +And this was all Maddy could recall of the days succeeding the night +of her last watch at her grandfather's side, until one balmy August +afternoon, when on the Honedale hills there lay that smoky haze so +like the autumn time hurrying on apace, and when through her open +window stole the fragrance of the later summer flowers. Then, as if +waking from an ordinary sleep, she woke suddenly to consciousness, and +staring about the room, wondered if it were as late as the western sun +would indicate, and how she came to sleep so long. For a while she lay +thinking, and as she thought, a sad scene came back to her, a night +when her hot hands had been enfolded in those of the dead, and that +dead her grandfather. Was it true, or was she laboring under some +hallucination of the brain? If true, was that white, placid face still +to be seen in the room below, or had they burial him from her sight? +She would know, and with a strange kind of nervous strength she arose, +and throwing on the wrapper and slippers which lay near, descended the +stairs, wondering to find herself so weak, and half shuddering at the +deep stillness of the house; stillness broken only by the ticking of +the clock and the purring of the house cat, which at sight of Maddy +arose from its position near the door and came forward, rubbing its +sides against her dress, and trying in various ways to evince its joy +at seeing one whose caresses it had missed so long. The little bedroom +off the kitchen where grandpa slept and died was vacant; the old +fashioned coat was put away, as was every vestige of the old man save +the broad-rimmed hat which hung upon the wall just where his hands had +hung it, and which looked so much like its owner that with a gush of +tears Maddy sank upon the bed, moaning to herself, "Yes, grandpa is +dead. I remember now. But Uncle Joseph, where is he? Can he too have +died without my knowledge? and she looked round in vain for the +lunatic, not a trace of whom was to be found. His room was in perfect +order, as was everything about the house, showing that Flora was still +the domestic goddess, while Maddy detected also various things which +she recognized as having come from Aikenside. Who sent them? Did Guy, +and had he been there too while she was sick? The thought brought a +throb of joy to Maddy's heart, but it soon passed away as she began +again to wonder if Uncle Joseph too had died, and where Flora was. It +was not far to the Honedale burying ground. Maddy could see the +headstones from where she sat gleaming through the August sunlight; +could discern her mother's, and knew that two fresh mounds at least +were made beside it. But were there three? Was Uncle Joseph there? By +stealing across the meadow in the rear of the house the distance to +the graveyard was shortened more than half, and could not be more than +the eighth part of a mile, She could walk so far, she knew. The fresh +air would do her good, and hunting up her long unused flat, the +impatient girl started, stopping once or twice to rest as a dizzy +faintness came over her, and then continuing on until the spot she +sought was reached, Three graves, one old and sunken, one made when +the last winter's snow was on the hills, the other fresh and new. That +was all, Uncle Joseph was not there, and vague terror entered Maddy's +heart lest he had been taken back to the asylum. + +"I will get him out," she said; "I will take care of him. I should die +with nothing to do; and I promised grandpa----" + +She could get no farther, for the rush of memories which came over +her, and seating herself upon the ground close to the new grave, she +laid her face upon it, and sobbed piteously: + +"Oh, grandpa. I'm so lonely without you all; I almost wish I was lying +here in the quiet yard." + +Then a storm of tears ensued, after which Maddy grew calm, and with +her head still bent low, did not hear the rapid step approaching, the +mans step coming down the grassy road, coming past the marble +tombstones, on to where that wasted figure was crouching upon the +ground. There it stopped, and in a half whisper called, "Maddy! +Maddy!" Then indeed she started, and lifting up her head saw before +her Guy Remington. For a moment she regarded him intently while he +said to her, oh so kindly, so pityingly. + +"Poor child, you have suffered so much, and I never knew of it till a +few days ago." + +At the sound of that loved voice speaking thus to her, everything else +was forgotten, and with a cry of joy Maddy stretched her hands toward +him, moaning out: + +"Oh, Guy, Guy, where have you been, when I wanted you so much?" + +Maddy did not know what she was saying, or half comprehend the effect +it had on Guy, who forgot everything save that she wanted him, had +missed him, had turned to him in her trouble, and it was not in his +nature to resist her appeal. With a spring he was at her side, and +lifting her in his arms seated himself upon her mother's grave; then +straining her tightly to his bosom, he kissed her again and again. +Hot, burning, passionate kisses they were, which took from Maddy all +power of resistance, even had she wished it, which she did not. Too +weak to reason, or see the harm, if harm there were, in being loved by +Guy, she abandoned herself for a brief interval to the bliss of +knowing that she was beloved, and of hearing him tell her so. + +"Darling Maddy," he said, "I went away because you sent me, but now I +have come back, and nothing shall part us again. You are mine; I claim +you here at your mother's grave. Precious Maddy, I did not know of all +this till three days ago, when Agnes' letter found me almost at the +Rocky Mountains. I traveled day and night, reaching Aikenside this +morning, and coming straight to Honedale. I wish I had come before, +now that I know you wanted me. Say that again, Maddy. Tell me again +that you missed and wanted me." + +He was smoothing her hair now, as her bead still lay pillowed upon his +breast, so he could not see the spasm of pain which contorted her +features as be thus appealed to her. Half bewildered, Maddy could not +at first make out whether it were a blissful dream or a reality, her +lying there in Guy's arms with his kisses on her forehead, lips and +cheek, his words of devotion in her ear, and the soft summer sky +smiling down upon her. Alas, it was a dream from which she was +awakened by the thought of one across the sea, whose place she had +usurped, and this it was which brought the grieved expression to her +face as she answered mournfully: + +"I did want you, Guy, when I forgot; but now--oh, Guy--Lucy +Atherstone!" + +With a gesture of impatience Guy was about to answer, when something +in the heavy fall of the little hand from his shoulder alarmed him, +and lifting up the drooping head he saw that Maddy had fainted. Then +back across the meadow Guy bore her to the cottage, where Flora, just +returned from a neighbor's, whither she had gone upon an errand, was +looking for her in much affright, and wondering who had come from +Aikenside with that wet, tired horse, showing so plainly how hard it +had been driven. + +Up again into her little chamber Maddy was carried and laid upon the +bed, which she never left until the golden harvest sheaves were +gathered in, and the hot September sun was ripening the fruits of +autumn. But now she had a new nurse, a constant attendant, who during +the day seldom left her except to talk with and amuse Uncle Joseph, +mourning below because no one sang to him or noticed him as Maddy used +to do. He had not been sent to the asylum, as Maddy feared, but by way +of relieving Flora had been taken to Farmer Green's, where he was so +homesick and discontented that at Guy's instigation he was suffered to +return to the cottage, crying like a little child when the old +familiar spot was reached, kissing his armchair, the cook-stove, the +tongs, Mrs. Noah and Flora, and timidly offering to kiss the Lord +Governor himself, as he persisted in calling Guy, who declined the +honor, but listened quietly to the crazy man's promise "not to spit +the smallest kind of a spit on the floor, or anywhere, except in its +proper place." + +Guy had passed through several states of mind during the interval in +which we have seen so little of him. Furious at one time, and reckless +as to consequences, he had determined to break with Lucy and marry +Maddy, in spite of everybody; then, as a sense of honor came over him, +he resolved to forget Maddy, if possible, and marry Lucy at once. It +was in this last mood, and while roaming over the Western country, +whither after his banishment he had gone, that he wrote to Lucy a +strange kind of letter, saying he had waited for her long enough, and +sick or well he should claim her the coming autumn. To this letter +Lucy had responded quickly, sweetly reproving Guy for his impatience, +softly hinting that latterly he had been quite as culpable as herself +in the matter of deferring their union and appointing the bridal day +for the--of December. After this was settled Guy felt better, though +the old sore spot in his heart, where Maddy Clyde had been, was very +sore still, and sometimes it required all his powers of self-control +to keep from writing to Lucy and asking to be released from an +engagement so irksome as his had become. Neglecting to answer Agnes' +letters when he first left home, she did not know where he was until a +short time before, when she wrote apprising him of grandpa's death and +Maddy's severe illness. This brought him, while Maddy's involuntary +outburst when she met him in the graveyard, changed the whole current +of his intentions. Let what would come, Maddy Clyde should be his wife +and as such he watched over her, nursing her back to life, and by his +manner effectually silencing all remark, so that the neighbors +whispered among themselves what Maddy's prospects were, and, as was +quite natural, were a very little more attentive to the future lady of +Aikenside. Poor Maddy! it was a terrible trial which awaited her, but +it must be met, and so with prayers and tears she fortified herself to +meet it, while Guy, the devoted lover, hung over her, never guessing +of all that was passing in her mind, or how, when he was out of sight, +the lips he had longed so much to kiss, but never had since that day +in the graveyard, quivered with anguish as they asked for strength to +do right. Oh, how Maddy did love the man she must give up, and how +often went up the wailing cry, "Help me, Father, to do my duty, and +give me, too, a greater inclination to do it than I now possess." + +Maddy's heart did fail her sometimes, and she might have yielded to +the temptation but for Lucy's letter, full of eager anticipations of +the time when she should see Guy never to part again. + +"Sometimes," she wrote, "there comes over me a dark foreboding of +evil--a fear that I shall miss the cup now within my reach; but I pray +the bad feelings away. I am sure there is no living being who will +come between us to break my heart, and as I know God doeth all things +well, I trust Him wholly, and cease to doubt." + +It was well the letter came when it did, as it helped Maddy to meet +the hour she so much dreaded, and which came at last on an afternoon +when Mrs. Noah had gone to Aikenside, and Flora had gone on an errand +to a neighbor's, two miles away, thus leaving Guy free to tell the +story, the old, old story, yet always new to him who tells it and her +who listens--story which, as Guy told it, sitting by Maddy's side, +with her hands in his, thrilled her through and through, making the +sweat drops start out around her lips and underneath her hair--story +which made Guy himself pant nervously and tremble like a leaf, so +earnestly he told it; told how long he had loved her, of the picture +withheld, the jealousy he felt each time the doctor named her, the +selfish joy he experienced when he heard the doctor was refused; told +of his growing dissatisfaction with his engagement, his frequent +resolves to break it, his final decision, which that scene in the +graveyard had reversed, and then asked if she would not be his--not +doubtfully, but confidently, eagerly, as if sure of her answer. + +Alas for Guy! he could not believe he heard aright when, turning her +head away for a moment while she prayed for strength, Maddy's answer +came, "I cannot, Guy, I cannot. I acknowledge the love which has +stolen upon me, I know not how, but I cannot do this wrong to Lucy. +Away from me you will love her again. You must. Read this, Guy, then +say if you can desert her." + +She placed Lucy's letter in his hand, and Guy read it with a heart +which ached to its very core. It was cruel to deceive that gentle, +trusting girl writing so lovingly of him, but to lose Maddy was to his +undisciplined nature more dreadful still, and casting the letter aside +he pleaded again, this time with the energy of despair, for he read +his fate in Maddy's face, and when her lips a second time confirmed +her first reply, while she appealed to his sense of honor, of justice, +of right, and told him he could and must forget her, he knew there was +no hope, and man though he was, bowed his head upon Maddy's hands and +wept stormily, mighty, choking sobs, which shook his frame, and seemed +to break up the very fountains of his life. Then to Maddy there came a +terrible temptation. Was it right for two who loved as they did to +live their lives apart?--right in her to force on Guy the fulfillment +of vows he could not literally keep? As mental struggles are always +the more severe, so Maddy's took all her strength away, and for many +minutes she lay so white and still that Guy roused himself to care for +her, thinking of nothing then except to make her better. + +It was a long time ere that interview ended, but when it did there was +on Maddy's face a peaceful expression, which only the sense of having +done right at the cost of a fearful sacrifice could give, while Guy's +bore traces of a great and crushing sorrow, as he went out from +Maddy's presence and felt that to him she was lost forever. He had +promised her he would do right; had said he would marry Lucy, being to +her what a husband should be; had listened while she talked of another +world, where they neither marry nor are given in marriage, and where +it would not be sinful for them to love each other, and as she talked +her face had shone like the face of an angel. He had held one of her +hands at parting, bending low his head, while she laid the other on it +as she blessed him, letting her snowy fingers thread his soft brown +hair and linger caressingly among his curly locks. But that was over +now. They had parted forever. She was lying where he left her, cold, +and white, and faint with dizzy pain. He was riding swiftly toward +Aikenside, his heart beats keeping time to the swift tread of his +horse's feet, and his mind a confused medley of distracted thoughts, +amid which two facts stood out prominent and clear-he had lost Maddy +Clyde, and had promised her to marry Lucy Atherstone. + +For many days after that Guy kept his room, saying he was sick, and +refusing to see any one save Jessie and Mrs. Noah, the latter of whom +guessed in part what had happened, and imputing to him far more credit +than he deserved, petted and pitied and cared for him until he grew +weary of it, and said to her savagely: "You needn't think me so good, +for I am not. I wanted Maddy Clyde, and told her so, but she refused +me and made me promise to marry Lucy; so I'm going to do that very +thing--going to England in a few weeks, or as soon as Maddy is better, +and before the sun of this year sets I shall be a married man." + +After this all Mrs. Noah's sympathy was in favor of Maddy, the good +lady making more than one pilgrimage to Honedale, where she expended +all her arguments trying to make Maddy revoke her decision; but Maddy +was firm in what she deemed right, and as her health began slowly to +improve, and there was no longer an excuse for Guy to tarry, he gave +out to the neighborhood that he was at last to be married, and started +for England the latter part of October, as unhappy and unwilling a +bridegroom, it may be, as ever wait after a bride. + + + + +CHAPTER XXL. + +THE INTERVAL BEFORE THE MARRIAGE. + + +Maddy never knew how she lived through those bright, autumnal days, +when the gorgeous beauty of decaying nature seemed so cruelly to mock +her anguish. As long as Guy was there, breathing the same air with +herself, she kept up, vaguely conscious of a shadowy hope that +something would happen without her instrumentality, something to ease +the weight pressing so hard upon her. But when she heard that he had +really gone, that a line had been received from him after he was on +board the steamer, all hope died out of her heart, and had it been +right she would have prayed that she might die and forget how utterly +miserable she was. + +At last there came to her three letters, one from Lucy, one from the +doctor, and one from Guy himself. Lucy's she opened first, reading of +the sweet girl's great happiness in seeing her darling boy again, of +her sorrow to find him so thin, and pale, and changed, in all save his +extreme kindness to her, his careful study of her wants, and evident +anxiety to please her in every respect. On this Lucy dwelt, until +Maddy's heart seemed to leap up and almost turn over in its casing, so +fiercely it throbbed and ached with anguish. She was out in the +beechen woods when she read the letter, and laying her face in the +grass she sobbed as she had never sobbed before. + +The doctor's next was opened, and Maddy read with blinding tears that +which for a moment increased her pain and sent to her bleeding heart +an added pang of disappointment, or a sense of wrong done to her, she +could not tell which. Dr. Holbrook was to be married the same day with +Lucy, and to Lucy's sister, Margaret. + +"Maggie, I call her," he wrote, "because that name is so much like my +first love, Maddy, the little girl who though I was too old to be her +husband, and so made me very wretched for a time, until I met and knew +Margaret Atherstone. I have told her of you, Maddy; I would not marry +her without, and she seems willing to take me as I am. We shall come +home with Guy, who is the mere wreck of what he was when I last saw +him. He has told me, Maddy, all about it, and though I doubly respect +you now, I cannot say that I think you did quite right. Better that +one should suffer than two, and Lucy's is a nature which will forget +far sooner than yours or Guy's. I pity you all." + +This almost killed Maddy; she did not love the doctor, but the +knowledge that he was to marry another added to her misery, while what +he said of her decision was the climax of the whole. Had her sacrifice +been for nothing? Would it have been better if she had not sent Guy +away? It was anguish unspeakable to believe so, and the shadowy woods +never echoed to so bitter a cry of pain as that with which she laid +her head on the ground, and for a brief moment wished that she might +die. God pitied His child then, and for the next half hour she hardly +knew what she suffered. + +There was Guy's letter yet to read, and with a listless indifference +she opened it, starting as there dropped into her lap a small _carte +de viste_, a perfect likeness of Guy, who sent it, he said, because +he wished her to have so much of himself. It would make him happier to +know she could sometimes look at him just as he should gaze upon her +dear picture after it was a sin to love the original. And this was all +the direct reference he made to the past except where he spoke of +Lucy, telling how happy she was, and how if anything could reconcile +him to his fate, it was the knowing how pure and good and loving was +the wife he was getting. Then he wrote of the doctor and Margaret, +whom he described as a dashing, brilliant girl, the veriest tease and +madcap in the world, and the exact opposite of Maddy. + +"It is strange to me why he chose her after loving you," he wrote; +"but as they seem fond of each other, their chances of happiness are +not inconsiderable." + +This letter, so calm, so cheerful in its tone, had a quieting effect +on Maddy, who read it twice, and then placing it in her bosom, started +for the cottage, meeting on the way with Flora who was seeking for her +in great alarm. Uncle Joseph had had a fit, she said, and fallen upon +the floor, cutting his forehead badly against the sharp point of the +stove. Hurrying on Maddy found that what Flora had said was true, and +sent immediately for the physician, who came at once, but shook his +head doubtfully as he examined his patient. There were all the +symptoms of a fever, he said, bidding Maddy prepare for the worst. +Nothing in the form of trouble could particularly affect Maddy now, +and perhaps it was wisely ordered that Uncle Joseph's illness should +take her thoughts from herself. Prom the very first he refused to take +his medicines from any one save her or Jessie, who with her mother's +permission stayed altogether at the cottage, and who, as Guy's sister, +was a great comfort to Maddy. + +As the fever increased, and Uncle Joseph grew more and more delirious +his cries for Sarah were heartrending, making Jessie weep bitterly as +she said to Maddy: + +"If I knew where this Sarah was I'd go miles on foot to find her and +bring her to him." + +Something like this Jessie said to her mother when she went for a day +to Aikenside, asking her in conclusion if she thought Sarah would go. + +"Perhaps," and Agnes brushed abstractedly her long, flowing hair, +winding it around her jeweled fingers, and then letting the soft curls +fall across her snowy arms. + +"Where do you suppose she is?" was Jessie's next question, but if +Agnes knew, she did not answer, except by reminding her little +daughter that it was past her bedtime. + +The next morning Agnes' eyes were very red, as if she had been wakeful +the entire night, while her white face fully warranted the headache +she professed to have. + +"Jessie," she said, as they sat together at their breakfast, "I am +going to Honedale to-day, going to see Maddy, and shall leave you +here, as I do not care to have us both absent." + +Jessie demurred a little at first, but finally yielded, wondering what +had prompted this visit to the cottage. Maddy wondered so, too, as +from the window she saw Agnes instead of Jessie alighting from the +carriage, and was conscious of a thrill of gratification that Agnes +would have come to see her. But Agnes' business concerned the sick +man, poor Uncle Joseph, who was sleeping when she came, and so did not +hear her voice as in the tidy kitchen she talked to Maddy, appearing +extremely agitated, and flashing her eyes rapidly from one part of the +room to another, resting now upon the tinware hung upon the wall and +now upon the gourd swimming in the water pail standing in the old- +fashioned sink, with the wooden spout, directly over the pile of +stones covering the drain. These things were familiar to the proud +woman; she had seen them before, and the sight of them now brought to +her a most remorseful regret for the past, while her heart ached +cruelly as she wished she had never crossed that threshold, or +crossing it had never brought ruin to one of its inmates. Agnes was +not the same woman whom we first knew. All hope of the doctor had long +since been given up, and as Jessie grew older the mother nature was +stronger within her, subduing her selfishness, and making her far more +gentle and considerate for others than she had been before. To Maddy +she was exceedingly kind, and never more so in manner than now, when +they sat talking together in the humble kitchen at the cottage. + +"You look tired and sick," she said. "Your cares have been too much +for one not yet strong. Let me sit by him till he wakes, and you go up +to bed." + +Very gladly Maddy accepted the offered relief, and utterly worn out +with her constant vigils, she was soon sleeping soundly in her own +room, while Flora, in the little shed, or back room of the house, was +busy with her ironing. Thus there was none to follow Agnes as she went +slowly into the sick-room where Uncle Joseph lay, his thin face +upturned to the light, and his lips occasionally moving as he muttered +in his sleep. There was a strange contrast between that wasted +imbecile and that proud, queenly woman, but she could remember a time +when the superiority was all upon his side, a time when in her +childish estimation he was the embodiment of every manly beauty, and +the knowledge that he loved her, his sister's little hired girl, +filled her with pride and vanity. A great change had come to them both +since those days, and Agnes, watching him and smothering back the cry +of pain which arose to her lips at sight of him, felt that for the +fearful change in him she was answerable. Intellectual, talented, +admired and sought by all he had been once; he was a mere wreck now, +and Agnes' breath came in short, quick gasps, as glancing furtively +around to see that no one was near, she laid her hand upon his +forehead, and parting his thin hair, said, pityingly: "Poor Joseph." + +The touch awoke him, and starting up he stared wildly at her, while +some memory of the past seemed to be struggling through the misty +clouds, obscuring his mental vision. + +"Who are you, lady? Who, with eyes and hair like hers?" + +"I'm the `madam' from Aikenside," Agnes said, quite loudly, as Flora +passed the door. Then when she was gone she added, softly: "I'm Sarah. +Don't you know me? Sarah Agnes Morris." + +It seemed for a moment to burst upon him in its full reality, and to +her dying day Agnes would never forget the look upon his face, the +smile of perfect happiness breaking through the rain of tears, the +love, the tenderness mingled with distrust, which that look betokened +as he continued gazing at her, but said to her not a word. Again her +hand rested on his forehead, and taking it now in his he held it to +the light, laughing insanely at its soft whiteness; then touching the +costly diamonds which flashed upon him the rainbow hues, he said: +"Where's that little bit of a ring I bought for you?" + +She had anticipated this, and took from her pocket a plain gold ring, +kept until that day where no one could find it, and holding it up to +him, said: "Here it is. Do you remember it?" + +"Yes, yes," and his lips began to quiver with a grieved, injured +expression. "He could give you diamonds, and I couldn't. That's why +you left me, wasn't it, Sarah--why you wrote that letter which made my +head into two? It's ached so ever since, and I've missed you so much, +Sarah! They put me in a cell where crazy people were--oh! so many--and +they said that I was mad, when I was only wanting you. I'm not mad +now, am I, darling?" + +His arm was around her neck, and he drew her down until his lips +touched hers. And Agnes suffered it. She could not return the kiss, +but she did not turn away from his, and she let him caress her hair, +and wind it around his fingers, whispering: "This is like Sarah's, and +you are Sarah, are you not?" + +"Yes, I am Sarah," she would answer, while the smile so painful to see +would again break over his face as he told how much he had missed her, +and asked if she had not come to stay till he died. + +"There's something wrong," he said; "somebody dead, and seems as if +somebody else wanted to die--as if Maddy died ever since the Lord +Governor went away. Do you know Governor Guy?" + +"I am his stepmother," Agnes replied, whereupon Uncle Joseph laughed +so long and loud that Maddy awoke, and, alarmed by the noise, came +down to see what was the matter. + +Agnes did not hear her, and as she reached the doorway, she started at +the strange position of the parties--Uncle Joseph still smoothing the +curls which drooped over him, and Agnes saying to him: "You heard his +name was Remington, did you not--James Remington?" + +Like a sudden revelation it came upon Maddy, and she turned to leave, +when Agnes, lifting her head, called her to come in. She did so, and +standing upon the opposite side of the bed, she said, questioningly: +"You are Sarah Morris?" + +For a moment the eyelids quivered, then the neck arched proudly, as if +it were a thing of which she was not ashamed, and Agnes answered: +"Yes, I was Sarah Agnes Morris; once for three months your +grandmother's hired girl, and afterward adopted by a lady who gave me +what education I possess, together with that taste for high life which +prompted me to jilt your Uncle Joseph when a richer man than he +offered himself to me." + +That was all she said--all that Maddy ever knew of her history, as it +was never referred to again, except that evening, when Agnes said to +her, pleadingly: "Neither Guy nor Jessie, nor any one, need know what +I have told you." + +"They shall not," was Maddy's reply; and from that moment the past, so +far as Agnes was concerned, was a sealed page to both. With this bond +of confidence between them, Agnes felt herself strangely drawn toward +Maddy, while, if it were possible, something of her olden love was +renewed for the helpless man who clung to her now instead of Maddy, +refusing to let her go; neither had Agnes any disposition to leave +him. She should stay to the last, so she said; and she did, taking +Maddy's place, and by her faithfulness and care winning golden laurels +in the opinion of the neighbors, who marveled at first to see so gay a +lady at Uncle Joseph's bedside, attributing it all to her friendship +for Maddy, just as they attributed his calling her Sarah to a crazy +freak. She did resemble Sarah Morris a very little, they said; and in +Maddy's presence they sometimes wondered where Sarah was, repeating +strange things which they had heard of her; but Maddy kept the secret +from every one, so that even Jessie never suspected why her mother +stayed day after day at the cottage; watching and waiting until the +last day of Joseph's life. + +She was alone with him then, so that Maddy never knew what passed +between them. She had left them together for an hour, while she did +some errands; and when she returned, Agnes met her at the door, and +with a blanched cheek whispered: "He is dead; he died in my arms, +blessing you and me; do you hear, blessing me! Surely; my sin is now +forgiven?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIL + +BEFORE THE BRIDAL. + + +There was a fresh grave made in the churchyard, and another chair +vacant at the cottage, when Maddy was at last alone. Unfettered by +care and anxiety for sick ones, her aching heart was free to go out +after the loved ones over the sea, go to the elm-shaded mansion she +had heard described so often, and where now two brides were busy with +their preparations for the bridal hurrying on so fast. Since the +letter read in the smoky, October woods, Maddy had not heard from Guy +directly, though Lucy had written since, a few brief lines, telling +how happy she was, how strong she was growing, and how much like +himself Guy was becoming. Maddy had been less than a woman if the last +intelligence had failed to affect her unpleasantly. She did not wish +Guy to regret his decision; but to be forgotten so soon after so +strong protestations of affection, was a little mortifying, and +Maddy's heart throbbed painfully as she read the letter, half hoping +it might prove the last she should receive from Lucy Atherstone. Guy +had left no orders for any changes to be made at Aikenside; but Agnes, +who was largely imbued with a love of bustle and repair, had insisted +that at least the suite of rooms intended for the bride should be +thoroughly renovated with new paper and paint, carpets and furniture. +This plan Mrs. Noah opposed, for she guessed how little Guy would care +for the change; but Agnes was resolved, and as she had great faith in +Maddy's taste, she insisted that she should go to Aikenside, and pass +her judgment upon the improvements. It would do her good, she said-- +little dreaming how much it cost Maddy to comply with her wishes, or +how fearfully the poor, crushed heart ached, as Maddy went through the +handsome rooms fitted up for Guy's young bride; but Mrs. Noah guessed +it all, pitying so much the white-faced girl, whose deep mourning +robes told the loss of dear ones by death; but gave no token of that +great loss, tenfold worse than death. + +"It was wicked in her to fetch you here," she said to Maddy, one day +when in Lucy's room she found her sitting upon the floor, with her +head bowed down upon the window sill. "But law, she's a triflin' +thing, and didn't know 'twould kill you, poor child, poor Maddy!" and +Mrs. Noah laid her hand kindly on Maddy's hair. "Maybe you'd better go +home," she continued, as Maddy made no reply; "it must be hard, to be +here in the rooms, and among the things which by good rights should be +yours." + +"No, Mrs. Noah," and Maddy's voice was strangely unnatural, as she +lifted up her head, revealing a face so haggard and white that Mrs. +Noah was frightened, and asked in much alarm if anything new had +happened. + +"No, nothing; I was going to say that I'd rather stay a little longer +where there are signs and sounds of life. I should die to be alone at +Honedale to-morrow. I may die here, I don't know. Do you know that +to-morrow will be the bridal?" + +Yes, Mrs. Noah knew it; but she hoped it might have escaped Maddy's +mind. + +"Poor child," she said again, "poor child, I mistrust you did wrong to +tell him no!" + +"Oh, Mrs. Noah, don't tell me that; don't make it harder for me to +bear. The tempter has been telling me so, all day, and my heart is so +hard and wicked, I cannot pray as I would. Oh, you don't know how +wretched I am!" and Maddy hid her face in the broad, motherly lap, +sobbing so wildly that Mrs. Noah was greatly perplexed, how to act, or +what to say. + +Years ago, she would have spurned the thought that the grandchild of +the old man who had bowed to his own picture should be mistress of +Aikenside; but she had changed since then, and could she have had her +way, she would have stopped the marriage, and, bringing her boy home, +have given him to the young girl weeping so convulsively in her lap. +But Mrs. Noah could not have her way. The bridal guests were, even +then, assembling in that home beyond the sea. She could not call Guy +back, and so she pitied and caressed the wretched Maddy, saying to her +at last: + +"I'll tell you what is impressed on my mind; this Lucy's got the +consumption, without any kind of doubt, and if you've no objections to +a widower, you may----" + +She did not finish the sentence, for Maddy started in horror. To her +there was something murderous in the very idea, and she thrust it +quickly aside. Guy Remington was not for her, she said, and her wish +was to forget him. If she could get through the dreaded to-morrow, she +should do better. There had been a load upon her the whole day, a +nightmare she could not shake off, and she had come to Lucy's room, in +the hope of leaving her burden there, of praying her pain away. Would +Mrs. Noah leave her a while, and see that no one came? + +The good woman could not refuse, and going out, she left Maddy by the +window, watching the sun as it went down, and then watching; the +wintry twilight deepen over the landscape, until all things were +blended together in one great darkness, and Jessie, seeking for her +found her at last, fainting upon the floor. + +Maddy was glad of the racking headache, which kept her in her bed the +whole of the next day, glad of any excuse to stay away from the +family, talking--all but Mrs. Noah--of Guy, and what was transpiring +in England. They had failed to remember the difference in the +longitude of the two places; but Maddy forgot nothing, and when the +clock struck four, she called Mrs. Noah to her and whispered, faintly: + +"They were to be married at eight in the evening. Allowing for +possible delays, it's over before this and Guy is lost forever!" + +Mrs. Noah had no consolation to offer, and only pressed the hot, +feverish hands, while Maddy turned her face to the wall, and did not +speak again, except to whisper, incoherently, as she half slumbered, +half woke: + +"Did Guy think of me when he promised to love her, and does he, can +he, see how miserable I am?" Maddy was indeed passing through deep +waters, and that night, the fourth of December, the longest, dreariest +she ever knew, could never be forgotten. Once past, the worst was +over, and as the rarest metal is purified by fire, so Maddy came from +the dreadful ordeal strengthened for what was before her. Both Agnes +and Mrs. Noah noticed the strangely beautiful expression of her face, +when she came down to the breakfast-room, while Jessie, as she kissed +her pale cheek, whispered: + +"You look as if you had been with the angels." Guy was not expected +with his bride for two weeks, or more, and as the days dragged on, +Maddy felt that the waiting for him was more intolerable than the +seeing him with Lucy would be. Restless and impatient, she could not +remain quietly at the cottage--while at Aikenside, she longed to +return again to her own home, and in this way the time wore on, until +the anniversary of that day when she had come from New York, and found +Guy waiting for her the station. To stay that day in the house so rife +with memories of the dead was impossible, and Flora was surprised and +delighted to hear that both were going up to Aikenside in the vehicle +hired of Farmer Green, whose officiated as driver. It was nearly noon +when they reached their destination, meeting at the gate with Flora's +brother Tom, who said to them: + +"We've heard from Mr. Guy; the ship is in; they'll be here sure +to-night, and Mrs. Noah is turnin' things upside down with the dinner." + +Leaning back in the buggy, Maddy felt for a moment as if she were +dying. Never until then had she realized how, all the while, she had +been clinging to an indefinable hope, a presentiment that something +might yet occur to spare her from a long lifetime of pain, such as lay +before her if Guy were really lost; but the bubble had burst, leaving +her nothing to hope, nothing to cling to, nothing but black despair; +and half bewildered, she received the noisy greeting of Jessie, who +met her at the door, and dragged her into the drawing-room, decorated +with flowers from the hothouse, told her to guess who was coming. + +"I know; Tom told me; Guy is coming with Lucy," Maddy answered, and +relieving herself from Jessie, she turned to Agnes, asking where Mrs. +Noah was, and if she might go to her for a moment. + +"Oh, Maddy, child, I'm sorry you've come to-day," Mrs. Noah said, as +she chafed Maddy's cold hands, and leading her to the fire, made her +sit down, while she untied her hood, and removed her cloak and furs. + +"I did not know it, or I should have stayed away," Maddy replied; "I +shall not stay, as it is. I cannot see them to-day. Charlie will drive +me back before the train is due; but what did he say? And how is +Lucy?" "He did not mention her. There's the dispatch" and Mrs. Noah +handed to Maddy the telegram, received that morning, and which was +simply as follows: + +"The steamer is here. Shall be at the station at five o'clock P. M. +GUY REMINGTON." + +Twice Maddy read it over, experiencing much the same feeling she would +have experienced had it been her death warrant she was reading. + +"At five o'clock. I must go before that," she said, sighing as she +remembered how, one year ago that day, she was traveling over the very +route where Guy was now traveling with his bride. Did he think of it? +think of his long waiting at the depot, or of that memorable ride, the +events of which grew more and more distinct in her memory, making her +cheeks burn even now, as she recalled his many acts of tenderness and +care. + +Laying the telegram on the table, she went with Mrs. Noah through the +rooms, warmed and made ready for the bride, lingering longest in +Lucy's, which the bridal decorations, and the bright fire blazing in +the grate made singularly inviting. As yet, there were no flowers +there, and Maddy claimed the privilege of arranging them for this room +herself. Agnes had almost stripped the conservatory; but Maddy found +enough to form a most tasteful bouquet, which she placed upon a marble +dressing table; then within a slip of paper which she folded across +the top, she wrote: "Welcome to the bride." + +"They both will recognize my handwriting; they'll know I've been +here," she thought, as with one long, last, sad look at the room, she +walked away. + +They were laying the table for dinner now, and with a kind of dizzy, +uncertain feeling, Maddy watched the servants hurrying to and fro, +bringing out the choicest china, and the glittering silver, in honor +of the bride. Comparatively, it was not long since a little, +frightened, homesick girl, she first sat down with Guy at that table, +from which the proud Agnes would have banished her; but it seemed to +her an age, so much of happiness and pain had come to her since then. +There was a place for her there now, a place near Guy; but she should +not fill it. She could not stay; and she astonished Agnes and Jessie, +just as they were going to make their dinner toilet, by announcing her +intention of going home. She was not dressed to meet Mrs. Remington, +she said, shuddering as for the first time she pronounced a name which +the servants had frequently used, and which jarred on her ear, every +time she heard it. She was not dressed appropriately to meet an +English lady. Flora of course would stay, she said, as it was natural +she should, to greet her new mistress; but she must go, and finding +Charlie Green she bade him bring around the buggy. + +Agnes was not particularly surprised, for a vague suspicion of +something like the truth had gradually been creeping into her brain, +as she noted Maddy's pallid face, and the changes which passed over it +whenever Guy was mentioned. Agnes pitied Maddy, for in her own heart +there was a little burning spot, when she remembered who was to +accompany Dr. Holbrook. So she did not urge her to remain, and she +tried to hush Jessie's lamentations when she heard Maddy was going. + +One long, sad, wistful look at Guy's and Lucy's home, and Maddy +followed Charlie to the buggy waiting for her, bidding him drive +rapidly, as there was every indication of a coming storm. + +The gray, wintry afternoon was drawing to a close, and the December +night was shutting down upon the Honedale hills in sleety rain, when +the cottage was reached, and Maddy, passing up the narrow, slippery +walk, entered the cold, dreary room, where there was neither fire nor +light, nor friendly voice to greet her. No sound save the ticking of +the clock; no welcome save the purring of the house cat, who came +crawling at her feet as she knelt before the stove and tried to kindle +the fire. Charlie Green had offered to go in and do this for her, as +indeed he had offered to return and stay all night, but she had +declined, preferring to be alone, and with stiffened fingers she laid +the kindlings Flora had prepared, and then applying the match, watched +the blue flame as it gradually licked up the smoke and burst into a +cheerful blaze. + +"I shall feel better when it's warm," she said, crouching over the +fire, and shivering with more than bodily cold, + +There was a kind of nameless terror stealing over her as she at +thinking of the year ago when the inmates of three graves across the +meadow were there beneath that very roof where she now sat alone. + +"I'll strike a light," she said, rising to her feet, and trying not to +glance at the shadowy corners filling her with fear. + +The lamp was found, and its friendly beams soon dispersed the darkness +from the corners and the fear from Maddy's heart, but it could not +drive from her mind thoughts of what might at that moment be +transpiring at Aikenside. If the bride and groom came at all that +night, she knew they must have been there for an hour or more, and in +fancy she saw the tired, but happy, Lucy, as up in her pleasant room +she made her toilet for dinner, with Guy standing by and looking on. +Just as he had a right to do. Did he smile approvingly upon his young +wife? Did his eye, when it rested on her, light up with the same +expression she had seen so often when it looked at her? Did he commend +her taste and say his little wife was beautiful, as he kissed her +fair, white cheek, or was there a cloud upon his handsome face, a +shadow on his heart, heavy with thoughts of her, and would he rather +it were Maddy there in the bridal room? If so, his burden was hard +indeed, but not so hard as hers, and kneeling on the floor, poor Maddy +laid her head in the chair, and, 'mid piteous moans, asked God, her +Father, to help them both to bear--help her and Guy--making the latter +love as he ought the gentle girl who had left home and friends to live +with him in a far-distant land; asked, too, that she might tear from +her heart every sinful thought, loving Guy only as she might love the +husband of another. + +The prayer ended, Maddy still sat upon the floor, while over her pale +face the lamplight faintly flickered, showing the dark lines beneath +her eyes and the tear stains on her cheek. Without, the storm still +was raging, and the wintry rain, mingled with sleet and snow, beat +piteously against the curtained windows, while the wind howled +mournfully as it shook the door and sweeping past the cottage went +screaming over the hill. But Maddy heard nothing of the tumult. She +had brought a pillow from the bedroom, and placing it upon the chair, +sat down again upon the floor and rested her head upon it. She did not +even know that her pet cat had crept up beside her, purring +contentedly and occasionally licking her hair, much less did she hear +above the storm the swift tread of horses' feet as some one came +dashing down the road, the rider pausing an instant as he caught a +glimpse of the cottage lamp and then hurrying on to the public house +beyond, where the hostler frowned moodily at being called out to care +for a stranger's horse, the stranger meanwhile turning back a foot to +where the cottage lamp shone a beacon light through the inky darkness. +The stranger reached the little gate and, undoing the fastening, went +hurrying up the walk, his step upon the crackling snow catching +Maddy's ear at last and making her wonder who could be coming there on +such a night as this. It was probably Charlie Green, she said, and +with a feeling of impatience at being intruded upon she arose to her +feet just as the door turned upon its hinges, letting in a powerful +draught of wind, which extinguished the lamp and left her in total +darkness. + +But it did not matter. Maddy had caught a sound, a peculiar cough, +which froze the blood in her veins and made her quake with terror +quite as much as if the footsteps hurrying toward her had been the +footsteps of the dead, instead of belonging, as she knew they did, to +Guy Remington--Guy, who, with garments saturated with rain, felt for +her in the darkness, found her where from faintness she had crouched +again beside the chair, drew her closely to him, in a passionate, +almost painful, hug, and said, oh! so tenderly, so lovingly: + +"Maddy, my darling, my own! We will never be parted again." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +LUCY. + + +Hours had gone by, and the clock hands pointed to twelve, ere Maddy +compelled herself to hear the story Guy had come to tell. She had +thrust him from her at first, speaking to him of Lucy, his wife, and +Guy had answered her back: "I have no wife--I never had one. Lucy is +in heaven," and that was all Maddy knew until the great shock had +spent itself in tears and sobs, which became almost convulsions as she +tried to realize the fact that Lucy Atherstone was dead; that the +bridal robe about which she had written, with girlish frankness, +proved to be her shroud, and that her head that night was not pillowed +on Guy's arm, but was resting under English turf and beneath an +English sky. She could listen at last, but her breath came in panting +gasps; while Guy told her how, on the very morning of the bridal, Lucy +had greeted him with her usual bright smile, appearing and looking +better than he had before seen her look since he reached her mother's +home; how for an hour they sat together alone in a little room sacred +to her, because years before it was there he confessed his love. + +Seated on a low ottoman, with her golden head lying on his lap, she +had this morning told him, in her artless way, bow much she loved him, +and how hard it sometimes was to make her love for the creature second +to her love for the Creator; told him she was not faultless, and asked +that when he found how erring and weak she was, he would bear with her +frailties as she would bear with his; talked with him, too, of Maddy +Clyde, confessing in a soft, low tone, how once or twice a pang of +jealousy had wrung her heart when she read his praises of his pupil. +But she had conquered that; she had prayed it all away, and now, next +to her own sister, she loved Maddy Clyde. Other words, too, were +spoken--words of guileless, pure affection, too sacred even for Guy to +breathe to Maddy; and then Lucy had left him, her hart-bounding step +echoing through the hall and up the winding stairs, down which she +never came again alive, for when Guy next looked upon her she was +lying white as a water lily, her neck and dress and golden hair +stained with the pale red life current oozing from her livid lips. A +blood vessel had been suddenly ruptured, the physician said, and for +her, the fair, young bride, there was no hope. They told her she must +die, for the mother would have them tell her. Once, for a few moments, +there rested on her face a fearfully frightened look, such as a +harmless bird might wear when suddenly caught in a snare. But that +soon passed away as from beneath the closed eyelids the great tears +came gushing, and the stained lips whispered faintly: "God knows best +what's right. Poor Guy!--break it gently to him." + +At this point in the story Guy broke down entirely, sobbing as only +strong men can sob. + +"Maddy," he said, "I felt like a heartless wretch--a most consummate +hypocrite--as, standing by Lucy's side, I met the fond, pitying glance +of her blue eyes, and suffered her poor little hand to part my hair as +she tried to comfort me, even though every word she uttered was +shortening her life; tried to comfort me, the wretch who was there so +unwillingly, and who at this prospect of release hardly knew at first +whether he was more sorry than pleased. You may well start from he in +horror, Maddy. I was just the wretch I describe: but I overcame it, +Maddy, and Heaven is my witness that no thought of you intruded itself +upon me afterward is I stood by my dying Lucy--gentle, patient, loving +to the last. I saw how good, how sweet she was, and something of the +old love, the boy love, came back to me, as I held her in my arms, +where she wished to be. I would have saved her if I could; and when I +called her 'my darling Lucy,' they were not idle words. I kissed her +many times for myself, and once, Maddy, for you. She told me to. She +whispered: 'Kiss me, Guy, for Maddy Clyde. Tell her I'd rather she +should take my place than anybody else--rather my Guy should call her +wife--for I know she will not be jealous if you sometimes talked of +your dead Lucy, and I know she will help lead my boy to that blessed +home where sorrow never comes.' That was the last she ever spoke, and +when the sun went down death had claimed my bride. She died in my +arms, Maddy. I felt the last fluttering of her pulse, the last beat of +her heart. I laid her back upon her pillows. I wiped the blood from +her lips and from her golden curls. I followed her to her early grave. +I saw her buried from my sight, and then, Maddy, I started home; +thoughts of you and thoughts of Lucy blended equally together until +Aikenside was reached. I talked with Mrs. Noah; I heard all of you +there was to tell, and then I talked with Agnes, who was not greatly +surprised, and did not oppose my coming here tonight. I could not +remain there, knowing you were alone. In the bridal chamber I found +your bouquet, with its 'Welcome to the bride.' Maddy, you must be that +bride. Lucy sanctioned it, and the doctor, too, for I told him all. +His own wedding was, of course, deferred, and he did not come home +with me, but he said: 'Tell Maddy not to wait. Life is too short to +waste any happiness. She has my blessing.' And, Maddy, it must be so. +Aikenside needs a mistress; you are all alone. You are mine--mine +forever." + +The storm had died away, and the moonbeams stealing through the window +told that morning was breaking, but neither Guy nor Maddy heeded the +lapse of time. Theirs was a sad kind of happiness as they talked +together, and could Lucy have listened to them she would have felt +satisfied that she was not forgotten. One long, bright curl, cut from +her head by his own hand, was all there was left of her to Guy, save +the hallowed memories of her purity and goodness--memories which would +yet mold the proud, impulsive Guy into the earnest, consistent +Christian which Lucy in her life had desired that he should be, and +which Maddy rejoiced to see him. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +FINALE. + + +The close of a calm September afternoon, and the autumnal sunlight +falls softly upon Aikenside, where a gay party is now assembled. For +four years Maddy Clyde has been mistress there, and in looking back +upon them she wonders how so much happiness as she has known could be +experienced in so short a time. Never but once has the slightest +ripple of sorrow shadowed her heart, and that was when her noble +husband, Guy, said to her, in a voice she knew was earnest and +determined that he could no longer remain deaf to his country's +call--that where the battle storm was raging he was needed, and like a +second Sardanapalus he must not stay at home. Then for a brief season +her bright face was overcast, and her brown eyes dim with weeping. +Giving him to the war seemed like giving him up to death. But women +can be as true heroes as men. Indeed, it oftentimes costs more courage +for a weak, confiding woman to bid her loved ones leave her for the +field of carnage than it costs them to face the cannon's mouth. Maddy +found it so, but Christian patriotism triumphed over all, and stifling +her own grief, she sent him away with smiles, and prayers, and +cheering words of encouragement, turning herself for consolation to +the source from which she never sued for peace in vain. Save that she +missed her husband terribly, she was not lonely, for her beautiful +dark-eyed boy, whom they called Guy, Jr., kept her busy, while not +very many weeks afterward, Guy, Sr., sitting in his tent, read with +moistened eyes of a little golden-haired daughter, whom Maddy named +Lucy Atherstone, and gazed upon a curl of hair she inclosed to the +soldier father, asking if it were not like some other hair now +moldering back to dust within an English churchyard. "Maggie" said it +was, Aunt Maggie, as Guy, Jr., called the wife of Dr. Holbrook, who +had come to Aikenside to stay, while her husband did his duty as +surgeon in the army. That little daughter is a year-old baby now, and +in her short white dress and coral bracelets she sits neglected on the +nursery floor, while mother and Jessie, Maggie and everybody hasten +out into the yard to welcome the returning soldier, Major Guy, whose +arm is in a sling, and whose face is very pale from the effects of +wounds received at Gettysburg, where his daring courage had well-nigh +won for Maddy a widow's heritage. For the present the arm is disabled, +and so he has been discharged, and comes back to the home where warm +words of welcome greet him, from the lowest servant up to his darling +wife, who can only look her joy as he folds her in his well arm, and +kisses her beautiful face. Only Margaret Holbrook seems a little sad, +she had so wanted her husband to come with Guy, but his humanity would +not permit him to leave the suffering beings who needed his care. +Loving messages he sent to her, and her tears were dried when she +heard from Guy how greatly he was beloved by the pale occupants of the +beds of pain, and how much he was doing to relieve their anguish. + +Jessie, grown to be a most beautiful girl of nearly sixteen, is still +a child in actions, and wild with delight at seeing her brother again, +throws her arms around his neck, telling, in almost the same breath, +how proud she is of him, how much she wished to go to him when she +heard he was wounded, how she wishes she was a boy, so she could +enlist, how nicely Flora is married and settled down at the cottage in +Honedale, and then asks if he knows aught of the rebel colonel to whom +just before the war broke out her mother was married, and whose home +was in Richmond. + +Guy knows nothing of him, except that he is still doing what he deems +his duty in fighting for the Confederacy, but from exchanged +prisoners, who had come up from Richmond, he has heard of a beautiful +lady, an officer's wife, and as rumor said, a Northern woman, who +visited them in prison, speaking kind words of sympathy, and once +binding up a drummer boy's aching head with a handkerchief, which he +still retained, and on whose corner could be faintly traced the name +of "Agnes Remington." + +Jessie's eyes are full of tears as she says: + +"Poor mamma, how glad I am I did not go to Virginia with her. It's +months since I heard from her direct. Of course it was she who was so +good to the drummer boy. She cannot be much of a rebel," and Jessie +glances triumphantly at Mrs. Noah, who, never having quite overcome +her dislike of Agnes, had sorely tried Jessie by declaring that her +mother "had found her level at last, and was just where she wanted to +be." + +Good Mrs. Noah, the ancient man whose name she bore would as soon have +thought of leaving the Ark as she of turning a traitor to her country, +and when she heard of the riotous mob raised against the draft, she +talked seriously of going in person to New York "to give 'em a piece +of her mind," and for one whole day refused to speak to Flora's +husband, because he was a "dum dimocrat," and she presumed was opposed +to Lincoln. With the exception of Maddy, no one was more please to see +Guy than herself. He was her boy, the one she brought up, and with all +a mother's fervor she kissed his bronzed cheek, and told him how glad +she was to have him back. + +With his boy on his sound arm, Guy disengaged himself from the noisy +group and went with Maddy to where the little lady, the child he had +never seen, was just beginning to show signs of resentment at being +left so long alone. + +"Lulu, sissy, papa's come; this is papa," the little boy cried, +assuming the honor of the introduction. + +Lulu, as they called her, was not afraid of the tall soldier, and +stretching out her fat, white hands, went to him readily. Blue-eyed +and golden haired, she bore but little resemblance to either father or +mother, but there was a sweet, beautiful face, of which Maddy had +often dreamed, but never seen, and whether it were in the infantile +features of his little girl. Parting lovingly her yellow curls and +kissing her fair cheek, he said to Maddy, softly, just as he always +spoke of that dead one: + +"Maddy, darling, Margaret Holbrook is right--our baby daughter is very +much like our dear lost Lucy Atherstone." + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AIKENSIDE BY MARY J. HOLMES *** + +******** This file should be named aiken10.txt or aiken10.zip ******** + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, aiken11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, aiken10a.txt + +This eBook was produced byJuliet Sutherland, Charles Franks and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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