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| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-01-14 01:19:02 -0800 |
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| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-01-14 01:19:02 -0800 |
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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 74902 ***
+
+
+[Illustration: IN A HALF WHISPER SOME ONE CALLED, “MADDY!
+MADDY!”—_Madeline, Page 326._]
+
+
+
+
+ MADELINE
+
+
+ BY
+
+ MARY J. HOLMES
+
+[Illustration: [Logo]]
+
+ G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY
+ PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+ COPYRIGHT, 1881,
+ DANIEL HOLMES.
+ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
+
+
+
+
+ CONTENTS.
+
+
+ CHAPTER PAGE
+ I. The Examining Committee 7
+ II. Madeline Clyde 23
+ III. The Examination 35
+ IV. Grandpa Markham 53
+ V. The Result 65
+ VI. Convalescence 86
+ VII. The Drive 106
+ VIII. Shadowings of What was to Be 116
+ IX. The Decision 127
+ X. At Aikenside 131
+ XI. Guy at Home 146
+ XII. Lucy’s Letter 173
+ XIII. Gossip 186
+ XIV. Maddy and Lucy 203
+ XV. The Holidays 225
+ XVI. The Doctor and Maddy 256
+ XVII. Womanhood 267
+ XVIII. The Burden 282
+ XIX. Life at the Cottage 302
+ XX. The Burden grows Heavier 322
+ XXI. The Interval before the Marriage 337
+ XXII. Before the Bridal 342
+ XXIII. Lucy 364
+ XXIV. Finale 369
+
+
+
+
+ MADELINE.
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER I.
+ THE EXAMINING COMMITTEE.
+
+
+Twenty-five years ago the people of Devonshire, a little town among the
+New England hills, had the reputation of being rather quarrelsome.
+Sometimes about meek, gentle Mrs. Tiverton, the minister’s wife, whose
+manner of housekeeping, or style of dress, did not exactly suit them;
+sometimes about the minister himself, who vainly imagined that if he
+preached three sermons a week, attended the Wednesday evening
+prayer-meeting, the Thursday evening sewing society, visited all the
+sick, and gave to every beggar that 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 two or three Sundays it was all in vain that Mr. Tiverton read
+the psalm and hymn, and cast troubled glances toward the vacant seats of
+his refractory singers. There was no one to respond, except poor Mr.
+Hodges, who usually selected something in a minor key, and pitched it so
+high that few could follow him; while Mrs. Captain Simpson—whose
+daughter was the organist—rolled her eyes at her next neighbor, or
+fanned herself furiously in token of her disgust.
+
+Latterly, however, there had arisen a new cause for quarrel, before
+which everything else sank into insignificance. Now, though the village
+of Devonshire could boast but one public school-house, 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 slip of paper certifying his or her
+qualification to teach a common school. It was 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 a 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 were
+roused as they had never been before—the aristocracy abusing, and the
+democracy upholding the dismayed trio, who at last 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 the quarrel began, young Dr.
+Holbrook, a native of Boston, had rented the pleasant little office on
+the village common, formerly occupied by old Dr. Carey, whose days of
+practice were over. 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_ unless they happened to be
+sick; that he should make a miserable failure, and be turned out of
+office in less than a month. The people would not listen. Somebody must
+examine the teachers, and that somebody might as well be Dr. Holbrook as
+any one.
+
+“Only be strict with ’em and 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 gal knew her P’s and Q’s,” and
+was also to “cut one or two of the first candidates,” Dr. Holbrook
+accepted the situation, and then waited rather nervously his initiation.
+He was never at his ease in the society of ladies, unless they stood in
+need of his professional services, when he lost sight of _them_ at once,
+and thought only of their disease. His patient once well, however, he
+became nervously shy and embarrassed, retreating as soon as possible
+from her presence to the shelter 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 were ere long to invade his sanctum.
+
+“Something for you, sir. The lady will wait for an answer,” said his
+office boy, passing to his master a little note, and nodding toward the
+street.
+
+Following the direction indicated, the doctor saw near his door an
+old-fashioned one-horse wagon, such as is still occasionally seen in New
+England among the farmers who till the barren soil and rarely indulge in
+anything new. On this occasion it was 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 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 a
+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:
+
+
+“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 and their peculiarities, 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 the thought
+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
+Madeline Clyde’s teeth, than have set himself up before her as some
+horrid ogre, asking what she knew and what she did not know. But the
+choice was not his, and, turning at last to the boy, he said shortly,
+“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 the message, said to the old
+man, “Oh, I am so glad; now, grandpa, we’ll go home. I know you must be
+tired.”
+
+Very slowly Sorrel trotted down the street, the blue ribbons fluttering
+in the wind, and one little ungloved hand 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 kind of a girl, and very good to her grandfather.
+But what should he ask her, and how demean himself towards her, and
+would it be well to “cut her,” as Colonel Lewis had advised him to do to
+one or two of the first? Monday afternoon was frightfully near, he
+thought, as this was only Saturday; and then, feeling that he must be
+prepared, he brought out from the trunk, where, since his arrival in
+Devonshire, they had been quietly lying, books enough to have frightened
+an elder person than poor little Madeline Clyde, riding slowly home, 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 History which she knew by heart. How
+she would have trembled could she have seen the formidable volumes
+heaped upon the doctor’s 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 other books, into which poor
+Madeline had never so much as looked. Arranging them in a row, and half
+wishing himself back again in 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 arrival of some one.
+
+“Can it be Sorrel and the square wagon?” Dr. Holbrook thought. But far
+different from Grandfather Clyde’s turnout was the stylish carriage and
+the spirited bays which the colored coachman stopped in front of the
+white cottage in the same yard with the office, the house where Dr.
+Holbrook boarded, and where, if he married while 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 something which was intended as a sigh of
+regret for “poor, dear papa,” escaped Agnes Remington’s lips as she
+pushed a little curly-haired girl toward Dr. Holbrook.
+
+Mrs. Conner, the lady of the house, had seen them by this time, and came
+running down the walk to meet her distinguished visitor, wondering a
+little to what she was indebted for this call from one who, since her
+marriage with the aristocratic Dr. Remington, had somewhat ignored 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 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 it just now, he had other matters
+to talk about; and so, jamming his pen-knife 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 recovered from 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,” was Guy
+Remington’s reply; whereupon the pen-knife 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 said: “She’ll hardly marry again, though she may. She’s
+young—not over twenty-six—”
+
+“Thirty, if the family Bible does not lie,” said Guy; “but she’d never
+forgive me if she knew I told you that. So let it pass that she’s
+twenty-eight. She certainly is not more than two 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 step-mother’s anxiety to visit plain Mrs.
+Conner the moment she heard that Dr. Holbrook was her boarder. But the
+doctor only laughed merrily at the idea of his being father to Guy, who
+was his college chum and long-tried friend.
+
+Agnes Remington, who was 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 Madeline Clyde, whom he expected 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. She never saw me in her life. Here are
+books, all you will need. You went to a district school a whole week
+that summer when you were staying in the country, with your grandmother.
+You surely have some idea what they do there, 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 at first, and cut one or two. You have no
+idea what a row the town is in.”
+
+“How did the girl look?” Guy asked, and the doctor replied: “Saw nothing
+but her bonnet and a blue ribbon. Came in a queer old go-giggle of a
+wagon, such as your country farmers drive. There was an old man with her
+in a camlet cloak. Guess she won’t be likely to impress 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 risk of a
+climate like ours. If she were here I should be glad, for it is terribly
+lonely up at Aikenside, and I must stay there, you know. It would be a
+shame to let the place run down.”
+
+“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
+Lucy Atherstone, the fair English girl to whom he had become engaged
+when he visited Europe, four years ago, should be strong enough to bear
+transplanting to American soil. Twice since his engagement he had
+visited her, finding her always loving and sweet, but never quite ready
+to come with him to his home in America. He must wait a little longer;
+and he was waiting, satisfied that the girl was worth the sacrifice, as
+indeed she was, for a fairer, sweeter flower never bloomed than Lucy
+Atherstone, his affianced bride. Guy loved to think of her, 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 lady was alighting.
+
+Naturally polite, 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-bye, grandpa. Don’t fear for me, and I hope
+you will have good luck;” then, as he drove away, she ran a step after
+him and said, “Don’t look so sorry, please, 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 where she
+knocked timidly.
+
+Glancing involuntarily at each other, the young men exchanged meaning
+smiles, while the doctor whispered softly, “Verdant—that’s sure.”
+
+As Guy sat nearest the door, it was he who opened it, 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, and
+whom she naturally mistook for Dr. Holbrook, whom she had never seen.
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER II.
+ MADELINE CLYDE.
+
+
+Maddy, her grandfather and grandmother called her, and there was a world
+of unutterable tenderness in the voices of the old couple when they
+spoke that name, while their dim eyes lighted up with pride and joy
+whenever they rested upon the young girl who made the sunlight of their
+home. She was the child of their only daughter, and 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.
+
+For forty years the aged couple had lived in the old red farm-house,
+tilling the barren soil of the rocky homestead, and, save on the sad
+night when they heard that Richard Clyde was lost at sea, and the far
+sadder morning when their daughter died, they had been tolerably free
+from sorrow; 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 upon Mr. Markham, who, to meet the demand,
+had been compelled to mortgage his homestead; the recreant neighbor
+still insisting that long before the mortgage was due he should 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 for mercy from a man like Silas Slocum.
+The money must either be forthcoming, or the red farm-house be sold,
+with its few acres of land; and as among his neighbors there was not one
+who had the money to spare, even if they had been willing to do so, he
+must look for it among strangers.
+
+“If I could only help,” Madeline 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 the committee-man; he likes us, and
+I don’t believe but what he’ll let me have it. I mean to go and see;”
+and, before 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 inquire what
+others thought of a child like her becoming a school-mistress. The
+people thought well of it, and before the close of the next day it was
+generally known through Honedale, as the southern part of Devonshire was
+called, that pretty little Maddy Clyde had been engaged as teacher, and
+was to receive three dollars a week, with the understanding that she
+must board herself. It did not take Madeline long to calculate that
+twelve times three dollars were thirty-six dollars, 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 which there was in certain lights a reddish tinge, which added to its
+richness and 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 differ. There’s a new committee-man, that Dr.
+Holbrook, from Boston, and new ones are apt to be mighty strict, and
+especially young ones like him. They say he is mighty larned, and can
+speak in furrin tongues.”
+
+Instantly Maddy’s face flushed 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 fail. She was called by everybody the very best
+scholar in the Honedale 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 and praised 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 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 gate-posts. But the house is finest of all. There’s a
+drawing-room bigger than a ball-room, 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 her
+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 no ways 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 is so pleasant that 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 for sure!”
+
+“Perhaps we both shall be terribly disappointed,” suggested grandpa, but
+Maddy was more hopeful.
+
+_She_, at least, should not fail; while what she had heard of Guy
+Remington, the master of Aikenside, made her believe that he would
+accede at once to her grandfather’s request.
+
+All that night in her dreams 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 before her the tall, handsome-looking man she had so
+often heard described by Sarah Jones after her return from Aikenside,
+where she had once done some plain sewing for the housekeeper. Even the
+next day, when, by her grandparent’s side, Maddy knelt reverently in the
+small church at Honedale, her thoughts were more intent upon the
+to-morrow and Aikenside than the sacred words her lips were uttering.
+She knew it was wrong, and with a nervous start tried 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 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?
+
+But no such thoughts troubled 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 so soothing an influence upon him, 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, the possibility 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 it 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, and see
+exactly how the rule for extracting the cubic root did read, but Maddy
+forbore, and read only the Pilgrim’s Progress, the Bible, and the book
+brought from the Sunday-school, vainly imagining that by so doing she
+was earning the good she so much desired.
+
+With the earliest dawn of day she was up, and her grandmother heard her
+repeating to herself much of what she fancied Dr. Holbrook might
+question her upon. Even when bending over the wash-tub, 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 fat hands and dimpled arms were
+busy in the suds. Before ten o’clock everything was done, the clothes,
+white as snow-drops in the garden beds, were swinging upon 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, and Madeline was free to pore over her
+books until called to dinner; she could not eat so great was her
+excitement.
+
+Swiftly the hours flew 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. Only
+census-takers did that. 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 on a chair, tried to discover how much of her pantalet was
+visible.
+
+“I could see splendidly in Mr. Remington’s mirrors. Sarah Jones says
+they come to the floor,” 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 roof
+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 under her chin, glanced once more at the rule for 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-bye 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 Maddy 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
+he was seeking was so near, she tripped up the walk, and soon stood in
+the presence of not only Dr. Holbrook, but also of Guy Remington.
+
+
+
+
+ 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? I am afraid I shall forget.”
+
+“Yes, certainly,” and electrified by that young, bird-like voice, the
+sweetest save one he had ever heard, Guy took from the pile of books
+which the doctor had arranged upon the table, the only one at all
+appropriate to the occasion, the others being as far beyond what was
+taught in district schools as his classical education was beyond
+Madeline’s common one.
+
+When a boy of ten, or thereabouts, Guy had spent a part of a summer with
+his grandmother in the country, and for a week had attended a district
+school. But he was so utterly regardless of rules and restrictions,
+talking aloud and walking about whenever the fancy took him, that he was
+ignominiously dismissed at the end of the week, and that was all the
+experience he had ever had in the kind of school Madeline was to teach.
+But even this helped him a little, for remembering that the teacher in
+Farmingham had commenced her operations by sharpening a lead pencil, so
+he now sharpened a similar one, determining as far as he could to follow
+Miss Burr’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 the
+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 in the least which examined that young girl,
+Dr. Holbrook or himself. Viewing it somewhat in the light of a joke, he
+rather enjoyed it; and as the Farmingham 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 recorded with a
+flourish.
+
+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 knew it
+once, but 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
+large 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 the 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 her reply, to which Guy responded,
+“That is very young, Miss Clyde.”
+
+“Yes, but Mr. Green did not mind. He’s the committee-man. He knew how
+young I was. He did not care,” 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 as handsome as if they had been blue, for Lucy
+Atherstone’s were blue; and as he thought of her he was glad she was not
+obliged to sit there in that doctor’s office, and be questioned by him
+or any other man. “Of course, of course,” he said, “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 finger tips, for the
+examination had taken a course 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 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
+does _amo_ mean?”
+
+To most men it would not have seemed a very disagreeable task, teaching
+young Madeline Clyde what _amo_ meant, 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 of this. 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 he 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
+said 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, anyway?”
+
+Then Dr. Holbrook spoke, but to poor, bewildered Maddy his words were
+all a riddle. It was nothing to _him_, whether she knew anything or
+not,—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, especially with the _first_ one. 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 back 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——”
+
+Here 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, and where, in the light badinage which
+followed, they forgot poor little Maddy.
+
+It was the first keen disappointment she had ever known, and it crushed
+her as completely as many an older person has been crushed by heavier
+calamities.
+
+“Disgraced forever 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, except grandpa and grandma? The people will say I do not know
+anything, and I _do_! I _do_! 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 low cry for help, succeeded by a fall, and while in Mrs.
+Conner’s parlor Guy Remington and Dr. Holbrook were chatting gayly with
+Agnes, Madeline was lying upon the office floor, white 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 hands with daffodils and early violets, made her
+way at last to the office, the door of which was partially open. 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
+girl, asking if she were asleep, while she lifted the long, fringed
+lashes drooping on the colorless cheek. The dull, dead expression of the
+eyes sent a chill through Jessie’s heart, 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 before Guy and the doctor both were with
+Madeline, the former holding her in his arms, while he smoothed the
+short hair, thinking 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 so sorry, but I
+could not help it. I forgot everything.”
+
+By this time Mrs. Conner and Agnes had come into the office, asking in
+much surprise who the stranger was, 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
+between them, and simply said it was some one who had come for medical
+advice, and it was possible she was in the habit of fainting; many
+people were. Very daintily, Agnes held back the skirt of her rich silk
+as if fearful that it might come in contact with Madeline’s plain
+delaine; then, as the scene was not very interesting, she returned to
+the house, bidding Jessie do the same. But Jessie refused, choosing to
+stay by Madeline, who by this time had been placed upon the comfortable
+lounge, where she preferred to remain rather than be 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 with Jessie, who, fascinated by the sweet young face,
+knelt by the lounge, and, laying her curly head caressingly against
+Madeline’s arm, aid to her, “Poor girl, you’re sick, and I’m so sorry.
+What makes you sick?”
+
+There was genuine sympathy in that little voice, and with a cry as of
+sudden pain, Maddy clasped the child in her arms and burst into a wild
+fit of weeping, which did her a great deal of 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 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; and now I never can, and the house must be sold.”
+
+“It’s dreadful to be poor!” sighed little Jessie, as her fingers
+threaded the soft, nut-brown hair resting in her lap, where Maddy had
+laid her aching head.
+
+Maddy did not know who this beautiful child was, but her sympathy was
+very sweet, and they talked together confidingly, 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 Guy all about it,” Jessie
+said, as she wound her arms round Madeline’s neck and kissed her at
+parting.
+
+It never occurred to Maddy to ask her name, she felt so stupefied and
+bewildered, and with a responsive kiss she sent her away. Then leaning
+her head upon the table, she forgot everything 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 enliven her a little. 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, he went away, feeling slightly uncomfortable whenever he
+thought of the girl, to whom he knew 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 and logic. Guy is such a
+stupid; I’ll question her myself 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
+woman 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 he was detained so long
+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 before 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-gravelled road round to the
+side kitchen door, Mrs. Noah’s special domain, and as sacred to her 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, she 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 my 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 the old man’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 weaknesses 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 this afternoon
+was much smarter than usual, grandpa thought 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 she was
+fearfully shocked when Grandpa Markham said:
+
+“I come on business with Squire Guy. Are you his gran’marm?”
+
+“His gran’marm!” screamed Mrs. Noah fearfully. “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 Remington—she did not explain that she was only the
+housekeeper—but she simply said:
+
+“If it’s Mr. Guy you want, I can tell you he is not at home, which will
+save you 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 step-mother.
+Perhaps you might tell your business to me; I know all Mr. Guy’s
+affairs.”
+
+“If I might come in, ma’am, and warm me,” grandpa 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 money 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. Maybe I’ll meet him going back, and
+can ask him.”
+
+“I tell you it won’t be any use. Mr. Guy has no three hundred dollars to
+throw away,” was Mrs. Noah’s 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 take to 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 and the tall lookin’ glass. 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 her master’s
+handsome house, in which she had lived so long that, in a way, she
+considered it her own.
+
+Conducting him through the wide 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 such 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 good-natured remark, “How d’ye
+do—pretty well to-day?”
+
+There was a familiar look about the cape of the camlet cloak worn by the
+man in the glass, 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 next, and slyly touched 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
+in the room and the grand piano, and came near bowing again to the
+portrait of the first Mrs. Remington, which hung upon the wall.
+
+“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 the yard, she went back to her vegetable oysters,
+which were in danger of being overdone.
+
+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 wagon, he kept steadily on, while Grandpa Markham,
+determining to speak to 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 failed to
+hear the insolent negro’s remark: “Served you right, old cove, might
+have turned out for a gentleman;” 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 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 the camlet
+cloak. Near by 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
+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 darkey 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 out of 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
+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 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 expresses 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 father 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 trotted 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, 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 tried 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, stopped before Dr. Holbrook’s office, and not the
+square-boxed wagon, with old Sorrel attached, for the former was
+standing quietly in the chip-yard, behind the low red house, while the
+latter, with his nose over the barn-yard fence, was 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 which 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 animadversions against that _prig of a Holbrook_, who was not
+fit to doctor a _cat_, much less “examine a _school-marm_.” But when
+Maddy grew so sick 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, I
+s’pose;” 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, and Farmer Green was sent for the physician, to whom
+he said, with his usual bluntness:
+
+“Well, you nigh about killed our little Maddy 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
+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 young doctor felt
+like treading upon forbidden ground as he entered the room which told so
+plainly of girlish habits, from the fairy slippers hung on a peg, to the
+fanciful little work-box made of cones and acorns. Maddy was asleep, and
+sitting down beside her the doctor asked that the shawl which had been
+pinned before the window to exclude the light 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 much
+about, if seen. It was ghastly pale now, 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 hand lay upon
+the bed-spread, 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 fear that 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; it is faster most than you can count,” Grandma
+Markham whispered; and thus entreated, the doctor took the hot, soft
+hand in his own, its touch sending through his frame a thrill such as
+the touch of no other hand had ever sent.
+
+But 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 round his own as he felt for and found the rapid
+pulse.
+
+“If she would waken,” he said, laying the hand softly down and placing
+his other upon her burning forehead.
+
+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 failure; 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 he first entered the cottage he had been
+struck with the extreme plainness of the furniture, betokening the
+poverty of its inmates; but now he forgot everything except the sick
+girl, who grew more and more restless, and kept talking of him and the
+Latin verb which meant _to love_, and which was not in the grammar.
+
+“Guy was a fool and I was a brute,” the doctor mattered, 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 physician’s mind dwelling upon the little, low
+chamber where Maddy Clyde was lying. As night closed in she awoke to
+partial consciousness, 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 asked “Did he smooth
+my hair and say, ‘poor child?’”
+
+Her grandmother hardly thought he did, though she was not in the room
+all the time. “He had staid a long while and was greatly interested,”
+she said.
+
+Maddy had a vague remembrance of such an incident, and in her heart
+forgave the doctor for his rejection, and thought 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, who came
+in to see her, awoke 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 probably foreclose and the place be sold.
+
+“But never you mind, Maddy,” he said, cheerily, when he saw how excited
+she seemed; “we shall manage somehow. I can rent two or three rooms
+cheap of Mr. Green—he told me so—and with old Sorrel I can work on the
+road, and fetch things from the depot, and in the winter I can shovel
+snow, and clean roofs. We shall not starve—not a bit of it—so don’t you
+worry, it will make you wus, and I’d rather lose the old homestead a
+thousand times over than lose you.”
+
+Maddy did not reply, but the great tears poured down her flushed cheeks,
+as she thought of her feeble old grandfather working on the road and
+shoveling snow to earn his bread; and the fever, which had seemed to be
+abating, returned with double force, 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
+him 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 rode 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 clearly about anything, save Madeline Clyde’s case;
+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 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 arm-chair, 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, and both deserve to be hung. Do you
+remember that Madeline Clyde whom you insulted with your logic, and the
+Catechism, 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 there’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,
+I get terribly mixed up when I hear her talk, and my heart thumps like a
+triphammer. That’s the reason I have not been up to Aikenside. I
+wouldn’t leave Maddy so long as there was hope, but there is none now. I
+did not tell them this morning. I couldn’t make that poor couple feel
+worse than they were 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 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 matter as it was, 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 the _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 _any way_, 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 experimentally about praying, and so he did
+not respond, but he thought of Lucy Atherstone, whose life was one act
+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. I cannot endure to sit here
+doing nothing to make amends. It will look queer, 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 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
+is not _strychnine_.”
+
+Contrary to Guy’s expectations, Agnes did not refuse to let Jessie go
+for a ride, 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 one 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 people 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 exactly know what, I wish I did.”
+
+Guy drew her closer 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, who sometimes
+keeps her eyes open in church when she is on her knees, and looks at the
+bonnets near us. Do you pray, brother Guy?”
+
+The question startled the young man, who did not know what to answer,
+and who was glad that 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 the doctor might be
+persuaded to accompany them. 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 the point of mounting his horse and galloping off
+alone, when Guy drove up with Jessie. It was five miles from Devonshire
+to Honedale, and when they reached a hill which lay half way 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 Devonshire 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
+task was nearly done, and 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 aloud, while every stroke fell like a heavy blow upon the hearts
+of the young men, who a few weeks ago did not know that Maddy Clyde had
+ever had existence.
+
+How long it seemed before another stroke, and Guy was beginning to hope
+they had heard the last when again the sound came floating on the air,
+and Dr. Holbrook’s lip quivered as _he_ now counted aloud, “one, two,
+three, four, five.”
+
+That was all; the bell stopped; and vain were all their listenings to
+catch another sound. Fifteen years only 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 speak but once, when she asked Guy “If it was very far to
+heaven, and if he supposed Maddy had got there by this time?”
+
+“Hush, Jessie; don’t ask such questions,” Guy said; then turning to his
+companion, he continued: “We’ll go just the same. I will do what I can
+for the old man;” and so the carriage drove on, down the hill, across
+the meadow land, and passed a low-roofed house, whose walls inclosed the
+stiffened form of the boy for whom the bell had tolled, and 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 those who
+watched by her 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 way for him to
+pass to Maddy’s bedside. Guy preferred waiting outside 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.
+
+“She is dying, doctor,” said one of the women; 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 minutes.
+
+“There are too many here,” he said. “She needs the air you are
+breathing,” and in his authoritative way he cleared the crowded room of
+the mistaken friends who were unwittingly breathing up Maddy’s very
+life.
+
+The grandparents and Jessie he suffered to remain, and sitting down by
+Maddy he 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 lethargy from Maddy’s brain, and waking her to 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 cursed you, and Guy
+is here, and I, and——”
+
+“Hush, you disturb her,” the doctor said, gently pushing 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; 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 aged
+disciple’s every sigh, had another good in store for him, ordering it so
+that both should come together, just 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 Guy had first met grandpa, and refused his application
+for money.
+
+“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.”
+
+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 had
+braved the hissing flame, and scaling the tottering wall, had dragged
+out 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 of a wound received 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 saw 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 the windows 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, 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—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 pleasure in
+knowing that Guy Remington from Aikenside was interested in her, and had
+brought his sister to see her. Winding her 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.”
+
+“Come, come,” and Dr. Holbrook, who had all the while been standing
+near, took Jessie by the arm and 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 flown into a passion when told that Jessie had been exposed to
+fever, of which she had a great dread.
+
+“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
+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 quickly, 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.”
+
+“Certainly not—how could I?” Agnes replied, as she took her seat at the
+tea-table. But her 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 the 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 way 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, for she was tired
+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 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, 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 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 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
+her cheek, and the brightness to her eyes.
+
+She had been 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 waken her; but for a long time,
+as it seemed to Grandma Markham, who stood a 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 all the other patients on his list. Dr.
+Holbrook was a handsome man, a thorough scholar, and a most skillful
+physician; but 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 when, on his return from
+Cambridge, he was about starting to visit Maddy again, he puzzled his
+brains until they ached with wondering what he could do to give her a
+pleasant surprise and show that he was not so 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 drove up, bearing in his hand a most exquisite
+bouquet, whose fragrance filled the 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 will give them to you, and you can
+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 that extra
+care had been taken with his toilet, that the collar was fresh from the
+laundry, and the new cravat tied in a most unexceptionable manner,
+instead of being twisted in 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-six or twenty-seven?”
+
+“Just your age;—why?” and the doctor looked up 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 should 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 new-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, and never
+dreamed 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 during 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 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 night-gown! 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; and thoughts of meeting again the
+handsome, stylish-looking man, whom she fully believed to be Dr.
+Holbrook, made her rather nervous. Dim remembrances she had of some one
+gliding in and about the room, and when the pain and noise in her head
+was in its highest, a hand large and cool had been laid upon her
+temples, quieting the throbbing, 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 wish 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 night
+dress which grandma brought in place of the gingham wrapper, and which
+became her well, with its daintily-crimped ruffles about the neck and
+wrists, which had grown so small that Maddy sighed to see how loose they
+were as her grandmother buttoned together the wristbands.
+
+“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
+Maddy was; and also how, as grandma expressed it, “She had been
+reckoning on this visit, making herself all a sweat about it.”
+
+Suddenly the doctor felt all his old dread of Maddy Clyde returning. Why
+should she worry 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 out of the
+room, 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 in by 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 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; 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 delirious, 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 Mr. Remington will be glad
+too. _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 once. He is interested in
+you, and brought these down this morning to my office.”
+
+“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 before the words were uttered. She might not think so well of Guy,
+he thought, and there was no harm in withholding the truth.
+
+So Maddy had no suspicion that the face she had thought of so much
+belonged to Guy Remington. She had never seen him, of course; but she
+hoped she should 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.”
+
+“Perhaps I’ll take 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, he knew, by talking to her so
+much; but somehow it was very delightful there in that sick-room, with
+the summer sunshine stealing through the window and falling upon the
+brown head resting on the pillows. Once he fixed the 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 wan’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 people were waiting for him; 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 wore buff, or brown, or tan color;
+but he knew all about Maddy’s dress, and thought the dainty frill around
+her slender throat the prettiest thing that he had ever seen. At last he
+really must go, and, bidding Maddy good-bye, he started on his daily
+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 most becoming attire, 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 the bouquet. She wished me to thank you
+for her.”
+
+“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 boot 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
+that 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 a second Paradise, and asked 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 had 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 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 you have 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. She was Guy’s mother, and my papa
+was ever so old. 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 put this in just for fun, right among the buds,
+where you must look for it.”
+
+
+This note Maddy read and re-read until she knew it by heart, especially
+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 notice
+the clause, “and the doctor too.” His attentions and likings 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 motive-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 more than once, 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 always
+answered evasively:
+
+“A friend from Boston.”
+
+And this he did to shield Guy, who 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, and with his own hands
+adjusted the shawl which grandma wrapped around her, and tied the white
+sun-bonnet 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 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, as just as over the top of
+the 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, and shook 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 is 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 are 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 twelve years older than yourself; and
+Agnes’s husband was more than twenty-five 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 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 twelve
+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-five years—that’s dreadful! She must be glad he’s
+dead. I could never 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 sun-bonnet, and, taking it in her lap, smoothed back her soft
+hair, saying with a long breath: “Oh! I’m so hot;” and then, as if just
+remembering his question, she 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 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.”
+
+Again the doctor thought to tell her of Lucy Atherstone, but he did not,
+and as he saw that Maddy was growing tired and needed to be at home, he
+turned his horse in the direction of the cottage.
+
+“Perhaps you’ll sometimes 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 arm-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 step-mother, and that she was more than twenty-five 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 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 years
+been an inmate of a mad-house.
+
+“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 several 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’ the little we do.
+That’s what ’tis about your uncle Joseph, and I warn all young girls 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_. Perhaps that was the name of his
+treacherous betrothed. And she asked her grandmother if it were not so.
+
+“Yes, Sarah Morris was her name, and her face was handsome as a doll,”
+grandma replied; and, wondering if she was as beautiful as Jessie, or
+Jessie’s mother, Maddy went back to her reveries of the poor maniac in
+the asylum, 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 becoming
+toilet, reclined languidly upon the 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
+subject. When his pretty step-mother 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. He knew, too, that Agnes would rather stay
+there, for her income did not warrant as luxurious a home as he could
+give her, and by remaining at Aikenside during the warmer season she
+could afford to pass 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 wishes I would join then. Do you
+think I can afford it?”
+
+“Oh, yes, that’s splendid, and I’ll stay here while you are gone; 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 I, too, 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 Lauries, ascertaining that Agnes’s plan was that 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 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 sun-bonnet and the
+Scotch plaid shawl she had seen beside him when driving 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 it was so, 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 way-marks came in view, way-marks 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, black curls.
+
+“Yes, I could do that. I have 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 only brother has been an inmate
+of a lunatic asylum for years; and that though they cannot pay his
+expenses, they do what 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’s cheek was very white, though her face was turned 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 existed.”
+
+For a moment there was silence in the room, and then Guy told the doctor
+of what Agnes and himself 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 awoke 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 sha’n’t care how
+long you are gone if I can have Maddy here, and doctor will come up
+every day, will you not?” 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 were willing, I do not think you
+could do better than secure Miss Clyde’s services. Two children will
+thus be happy, for Maddy, as I have told you, thinks Aikenside must be a
+little lower 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 opinion, are better discussed
+alone,” and he turned good-humoredly toward Agnes, who knew it was
+useless to oppose him then.
+
+But she did oppose him 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 his 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 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 reconsidered 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 part of
+the autumn, and that she, Jessie’s mother, wrote to ask if for the sum
+of one dollar per week she was willing 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. Write another note; substitute companion for
+waiting-maid, and offer 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 ‘round besides, she thought three
+dollars far too much. But Guy had commanded, and she generally obeyed
+him, so she wrote another note, which he approved, and, sealing it up,
+sent it by a servant to Madeline.
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER IX.
+ THE DECISION.
+
+
+The reception of Agnes’s 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 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 beautiful lawn almost large enough to be called a
+park, with its shaded paths and winding walks, its flowers and vines,
+its fountains and statuary, its fish-pond and grove, its airy rooms, its
+wide 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,
+dark-haired Jessie, and its manly, noble Guy. Only the image of Agnes,
+flashing in silk and diamonds, was a flaw in the picture. 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 enter upon her duties as 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, 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
+should take poor old deaf Mary Barnes, who complained that he staid so
+long with the child at “Gran’ther 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 interested 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
+the 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 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-byes 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 flowing, but not until the
+dear old home had disappeared, and she was 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 roused him
+by broaching 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 will
+only 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.
+
+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. She was too young, and he would 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 band resting on the
+doctor’s shoulder, was looking round 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 school-girl 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 Muddy 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 came, 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 dress 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 a 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 the 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, and did them up so carefully,”
+she said, her lip beginning to quiver, and her eyes filling with tears,
+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 the 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 lets me wear
+that, except 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 shall 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 ecstacies
+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 neck, and then she was ready for that terrible ordeal, her first
+dinner at Aikenside. The doctor was going to stay, and this revived 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 elegant
+furniture which met her at every turn, Maddy followed to where the
+dreaded Mrs. Noah, in rustling black 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, and remembered that the old man had said
+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, and 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 supposed 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 sha’n’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 champion, at least, at Aikenside.
+
+The dinner was a success, so far as Maddy was concerned. Not a single
+mistake did she make, though her cheeks burned painfully as she felt the
+eyes of the polite waiter fixed so often upon her face, and fancied he
+might be laughing at her. But he was not, and thanks to the kind-hearted
+Guy, he thought of her only with respect, as one who was his 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 her and Jessie’s command, and Paul was never to refuse 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 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 piano 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 ear 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 as 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 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 she improved it well, 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 childish 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
+had been made 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 to her mother, which would leave
+her next to Guy, where he could see every movement she made. Would he
+think her awkward, or would he, as he 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 on the sideboard, which looked
+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
+really goblets, 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 run off the track, and Guy would not
+probably arrive until late in the night, if indeed he did till morning.
+Greatly disappointed, the doctor after dinner took his leave, telling
+the girls they better not sit up. Consequently, at a late hour they both
+retired, sleeping so soundly as not to hear 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’s 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 one else did, she should accept that other
+one, 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 was good, 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 on the morning of her 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 has visited us 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 see 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 as 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.”
+
+“May 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
+white 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.
+Doctor 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 you mean, what I am to do!”
+Maddy gasped her face 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 duties as governess are over, sit in your own room, or the
+school-room, or walk in the back yard, just as the higher servants
+do—such as Mrs. Noah and the seamstress, 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, 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, and her cheeks burned
+at the degradation, and 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, and accidentally wandering that way,
+stumbled 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
+the stranger 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 as he lifted her from the grass and led her
+to a rustic seat at no great distance from them.
+
+“Now, tell me why you are crying so?” he said, brushing from her apron
+the spot of dirt which had settled upon it. “Are you homesick?” he
+continued, and then Maddy burst out crying harder than before.
+
+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 sit with them and eat with them till she told me so. 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 suppose 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 her:
+
+“_I_ am Mr. Guy.”
+
+“YOU, YOU! Oh, I can’t bear it! I shall die!” and Maddy sprang up as
+quickly as if feeling an electric shock.
+
+But Guy’s arm was interposed to stop her, and 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 did
+once; 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 going
+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.
+
+“Perhaps you have forgotten that you were once a school teacher
+yourself,” he said, “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’ 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 round; 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—jealousy! I jealous of that child?” and Agnes’s 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 sometime for his wife. I hope he does;
+I mean to help it on; I’ll tell him to marry 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
+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 that 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 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, as Mrs. Remington had a headache.
+
+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 to 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 the young girl.
+
+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 on
+the following morning, just after breakfast was over, she summoned
+courage to ask Mr. Guy if she might talk with him. 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 like Dr. Holbrook. He was
+haughtier in his manner, 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. Remington, 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 wish 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 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 her 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 seen it
+in all its bearings and triumphal result.
+
+“I am much obliged for your liking me,” he said, a little mischievously.
+“You surely have not much reason to do so when you recall the incidents
+of our first interview. Maddy—Miss Clyde, I mean—I have come to the
+conclusion that I knew less than you did, and I beg your pardon for
+annoying you so terribly.”
+
+Then Guy explained to her briefly 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 believe he would
+have felt it his duty to die also. He was greatly interested in you;
+more indeed than in 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 was anxious for me to get well. He was very kind, and I
+like him very much.”
+
+Mentally chiding himself for trying to find in Maddy’s head an idea
+which evidently never was there, Guy began to speak of her proposition
+to 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 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 as
+you asked me about that day; 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 staid 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 can 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 a little,
+except that she 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 advantage and was as old, she would be what the English call
+cleverer. There was no disparagement to Lucy in his thoughts, only a
+compliment to Maddy, who was waiting for him to answer her question; he
+had offered his services; she had accepted; and with the mental comment,
+“I dread Doc’s chaff the most so I’ll explain to him that I am educating
+her for the future Mrs. 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 spoke?”
+
+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 them, 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 went
+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 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 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, for Guy approached 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 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 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 so 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 your 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 splendid woman, but she needs education, of
+course, and I am going to give it to her. You ought to thank me, instead
+of looking so like a thunder-cloud,” 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 staid 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.
+
+Guy felt himself very good, very generous, very condescending, and very
+forgiving, the earlier 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?” the latter asked. “She liked Maddy
+Clyde herself, but it wasn’t for him to demean himself by turning her
+schoolmaster. Folks would talk awfully, and she couldn’t blame ’em;
+besides, what would Lucy Atherstone 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 and ask 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, 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, and 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.
+ LUCY’S LETTER.
+
+
+At last the answer came, and it was Maddy who brought it to Aikenside.
+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
+post-mark, and that it was in the delicate handwriting of some lady, 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 placing the letter carefully in
+her basket she kept on to Aikenside.
+
+The letter was just like Lucy, 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 her mother 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 Guy, but she
+would think of him, oh! so often, teaching that dear little Maddy Clyde,
+and she should 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 in store for them.
+
+“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 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 I sometimes shrink from the dark grave, which would
+hide me 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 maybe he will hear _you_. Do, Guy,
+please pray for your Lucy, far away over the sea.”
+
+Guy could not resist that touching appeal, and though his lips were all
+unused to prayer, he bowed his head upon his hands and asked that she
+might live, beseeching the Father to send upon him any calamity save
+this one—Lucy must not die. Guy felt better for having prayed. It was
+something to tell Lucy, something that would please her, 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 Lucy’s mother would let her come where doctors were
+skillful, she might get well; but she was determined that no husband
+should be burdened with an ailing wife, and so, if the mountain would
+not come to Mahomet, Mahomet must go to the mountain; and Guy fairly
+leaped from his chair as he exclaimed, “I have it—there’s _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 the 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 his arm-chair. 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 a superfluity of health; and why shouldn’t she? Dr. Holbrook had
+cured Maddy; Dr. Holbrook could cure Lucy; and so for the present
+dismissing Lucy from his mind, he turned to Maddy, and said the time had
+come when he could give those promised lessons, and asked 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 may need me. 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 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?
+
+Controlling her voice as well as she was able, Maddy told him that 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, it might be well for Mr. Markham to take him to
+Honedale awhile; that having been spoken with upon the subject, he
+seemed as anxious as a little child, even crying when the night came
+round 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 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 round 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 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
+Rome. 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 Rome, and the places he had dreamed of as a boy, but never
+hoped to see; and 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 to tell him,
+amid blushes of shame and tears of regret, how she had intended to pay
+him with her very first wages, but now that Uncle Joseph was coming
+home, he must wait a little longer.
+
+“Will you 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 as she explained.
+
+Thinking they would rather be alone, Guy left them together in the
+lighted hall, and then, 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 will let you pay it, too. Does that
+satisfy you?”
+
+“Yes,” Maddy said, 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, perhaps. 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. It was to
+him 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
+very lonely without him.
+
+“Would you, Maddy? Are you in earnest? Would you be the 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 him. 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 well, especially as it was backed by Maddy’s eyes,
+full 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 an education.
+
+“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 livid with horror at 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 bitter 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 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 bed-room intended
+for Uncle Joseph, and Guy, as he glanced at the furniture, thought
+within himself how he would send down from Aikenside some of the unused
+articles piled away on the garret when he refurnished his house.
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER XIII.
+ GOSSIP.
+
+
+In course of time Uncle Joseph came, as was arranged, and on the day
+following Maddy and Guy went 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 her 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 fancy 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 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 by a series of headaches, so severe and
+protracted that Dr. Holbrook had pronounced her really sick, and had
+been unusually attentive. Very anxiously she had waited for the result
+of Maddy’s visit to the poor lunatic, and her face was white 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 so 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 so gay as she meant to be in Boston. Jessie, too, when consulted,
+said she would far rather remain at Aikenside; and so one November
+morning, Agnes kissed her little daughter, and bidding good-bye 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 he 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 there, as he 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 her 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. 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.
+
+It did not take long for the people in the neighborhood to hear that Guy
+Remington had turned schoolmaster, and had in his library for two hours
+or more each day Jessie’s little girl-governess, about whose 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 _fiancée_ and was 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 soon 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
+gave her four, esteeming them the pleasantest of the whole twenty-four.
+Guy was proud of Maddy’s improvement, and often praised her 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 had learned.
+
+It mattered nothing to Guy that the 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 “catch” 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 his first visit to Uncle Joseph, Guy
+never accompanied her. Jessie, on the contrary, went often to Honedale,
+where the lunatic always greeted her coming, stealing up closely to her,
+and whispering softly, “My Daisy has come again.”
+
+He had called her _Sarah_ at first, and then changed the name to
+“Daisy,” which he persisted in calling her, watching from his window for
+her coming, and crying whenever Maddy appeared without her. At first
+Agnes, in her letters, 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 this 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
+even 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, people will keep on talking so long as
+you keep her there in the house; and it’s hardly fair toward Lucy.”
+
+Latterly Guy had fancied that the doctor did not like the educating
+process, while even Mrs. Noah managed to keep Maddy 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 would
+know, at all events; and summoning Mrs. Noah to his presence, he read
+her that part of Agnes’s letter pertaining to Maddy, and 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 often 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-teachin’?”
+
+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 people
+meddling with him, that he thought of Lucy Atherstone _all_ the time,
+and he did not know what more he could do; that it was 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 in the way, 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 as
+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 his real self. Still, he would not believe it, or
+confess to himself how strong a place in his affection was held by the
+beautiful girl, now no longer a child. It was almost a year since that
+April afternoon when he first saw Maddy Clyde, and from a timid, bashful
+child, of fourteen and a half, she had grown to the rather tall and
+self-possessed maiden of fifteen and a half, almost sixteen, or, 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 was done 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 this comparison,
+but rather Mrs. Noah’s next remark, which affected him unpleasantly.
+
+“Of course she’ll make a splendid woman,” Mrs. Noah said. “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, and then good-bye 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?”
+
+Guy 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;” Guy’s voice faltered a little, but
+he recovered himself and went on: “I will tell her about Lucy to-night,
+but I can’t send her away. Neither will she be happy to go back, for
+though the best of people, they are not like Maddy, and you know it.”
+
+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 she cared.
+
+“And during the vacations, where must she go?” Guy asked.
+
+“Go where she pleases, of course. As Jessie is so fond of her, and they
+are so 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 anybody 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 must needs 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 thought:
+
+“I ought to have taken him in hand long ago;” then 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 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.
+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 intentions, 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 his friends, 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 room.
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER XIV.
+ MADDY AND LUCY.
+
+
+Supper was over, and Guy had returned to his library. He had not
+stopped, as he usually did, to romp with Jessie or talk to Maddy Clyde,
+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 that she must stay with her while Maddy went
+to Mr. Guy, who wanted to talk with her.
+
+“Is he angry with me, Mrs. Noah?” Maddy asked, and, remembering his
+moody looks when she went in quest of the book, she 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 muslin 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, he told
+her he had concluded 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, where her vacation 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 goal
+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 would 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.
+
+“Oh, Mr. Remington, you are so good to me; what makes you?” she cried;
+and then she told him how much she wished to be a teacher, so as to help
+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 with them now, you
+seem to be 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?”
+
+Maddy never had, and with the 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 was engaged, and that some time
+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 before 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 curious 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 it
+mean? 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 upon the arm of his chair 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 have been so happy here that I
+guess I thought it might go on forever. I am afraid Miss Atherstone will
+not fancy me, and I know I shall not feel as free here, after she comes,
+as I do now. Then your being so good in 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, and it made Guy
+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, and less a child, he 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 master; and while talking
+with Jessie of the grand times they should have at school, she marveled
+at that little 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 Switzerland, where she expected to spend
+the summer, half hoping Guy might join her there, though she could not
+urge it, as her mother 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 at all 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?”
+
+“Darling little Lucy, I do love her very dearly,” was Guy’s comment, as
+he finished reading her letter, feeling for the moment 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 many times he had crossed the sea to no purpose, he said, half
+petulantly:
+
+“I’ve been to England for nothing times enough. When that mother of hers
+says I may have her daughter, 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 was to accompany
+them if she chose, and having a general supervision of her child. This
+was Guy’s plan, and it 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 principle 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.
+
+“My picture? 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. This, it must be remembered, was in the day of ambrotypes, and
+before the introduction of photographs.
+
+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 all 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 to 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 went into raptures, and Maddy
+blushed to hear her own praises. Guy said nothing, except to ask that
+Maddy should sit again; the first 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 Agnes was waiting for him. Three 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,” Jessie said, half-poutingly; then, as she
+remembered the second sitting, she begged of Guy to get it for her.
+
+But he did not seem inclined to comply with her request, and kept
+putting her off, until, despairing of success, Jessie, when alone with
+the doctor, tried her powers of persuasion on him, 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 it;
+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 to do so was sufficient. Consequently, Guy little
+guessed that the doctor knew what it was he carried so carefully in his
+coat pocket, looking at it often when alone in his own room, and
+admiring its soft, girlish beauty, 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 to New York with Maddy,
+her lessons were suspended, and Aikenside for the time being was turned
+into a vast dress-making 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’s dislike was wearing away,
+particularly as of late she had seen no signs of special attention on
+the doctor’s part. He had recovered from his weakness, she thought, and
+she was very gracious toward Maddy, who, naturally forgiving, began to
+like her better than she had ever deemed 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. Woman-like, 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 lest 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, the great city,
+which to the simple-hearted old man seemed a very Babylon of iniquity,
+was different, and for a time he objected 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 a daily 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.”
+
+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 had asked for 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 eyes were dimmer, and rested on her
+with no suspicious glance, as, partially reassured, she glided across
+the threshold, and bowed civilly when Guy presented grandfather to her.
+
+A little anxious as to how her grandfather would acquit himself, Maddy
+sat by, wondering why Agnes appeared so ill at ease, and why her
+grandfather 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 taken 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 nothin’ 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’s 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, whom he calls _madam_. He
+says, for ten minutes on the stretch: ‘God bless the madam—the madam—the
+madam!’ that’s because you are good to Maddy. You’re sick, lady; talkin’
+about crazy folks makes you faint,” grandpa added hastily, as Agnes
+turned white as 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 remorse, as he walked through
+the hall, or 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, growing so profusely within the borders.
+
+“Take them to him, will you?” and her hands shook as she passed to
+Grandpa Markham the gift which would thrill poor crazy Joseph with a
+strange delight, making him hold converse awhile with the unseen
+presence which he called “she,” and then to 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 and the letters he wrote to
+Lucy. Nothing but these and 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
+talk one whit, for the people marveled more than ever, feeling confident
+now that he was educating his own wife, and making sundry spiteful
+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, just as Maddy had smiled upon him when, in Madam
+——’s parlor, he bade her good-bye. The doctor could not have that
+picture, he finally decided. “Hal ought to be satisfied with getting
+Maddy, as of course he will, for am I not educating her for that very
+purpose?” he said to himself; 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 No. 1. 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 to be.
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER XV.
+ THE HOLIDAYS.
+
+
+The summer vacation had been spent by the Remingtons 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
+afternoon to call upon Miss Clyde. He was glad she was not at Aikenside;
+he would rather meet her at the cottage, 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 suspicions 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 of 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 this in her face when he
+bade her good-bye, 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 birthday, and all who were at all
+desirable 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 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?” 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 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 in his notions.”
+
+“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 _theater_ anyhow. He
+considers that in the same block with the bottomless pit.”
+
+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 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 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 are many 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.”
+
+“_I!_” 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 prickling 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 Maddy’s guardian or brother, I ask your
+permission to offer her the love which, whether she accepts it or not,
+is hers.”
+
+Guy had never fell 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, Maria has
+grown 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 until he
+reached Honedale, where a pair of soft, brown eyes smiled up into his
+face, and a little warm hand was clasped in his, as Maddy came out to
+the gate to meet him.
+
+She was very glad to see him. The cottage, with its humble adornings,
+did seem lonely, and 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 place
+she once loved so well. She had been there five days, 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 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 wish to see her? If not, she
+could be indifferent too, and when they did meet, she could show him how
+little she cared!
+
+At Guy she was not particularly piqued. She did not take his attentions
+as a matter of course, and did not think it very strange that since
+bringing her there on the night of her return from New York, he had not
+once called upon her; still, she thought more of him, if possible, than
+of the doctor, during those five days, and was rather anxious to see
+him. She had something to show him—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 Maddy had learned that Lucy’s mother
+was averse to the match, and had always been; that she had in her mind
+an English lord, who would make her daughter “My lady;” and this was the
+secret of her so long deferring her daughter’s marriage. In her last
+letter to Maddy, however, Lucy had written with more than her usual
+spirit that she should come into possession of her property on her
+twenty-fifth birthday and be really her own mistress. 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 would be glad to see this letter,
+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.”
+
+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 am of age 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 is 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.”
+
+Maddy had never attended a big party in her life, and 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 festival 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 seen there 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 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; the blue silk would be useful after the party;
+it was what you needed; and so he bought it and paid two dollars 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,
+though Maddy thought her grandfather would say it was too low in the
+neck, but Sarah overruled her objections, assisted by Guy, who, when the
+dress was complete and tried on for the last time, was called in by
+Jessie to see if “Maddy must have a piece sewed on, as she suggested.”
+The neck was _au fait_, Guy said, laughing at Maddy for being so
+old-maidish, 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 ecstacies again. Clasping the ornaments on Maddy’s neck
+and arms, she danced around her, declaring there never was anything more
+beautiful, or anybody so pretty as Maddy was in her party dress. Maddy
+was fond of jewelry—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 had anticipated, but Maddy was not so happy in
+possession of the coveted ornaments as she had thought she should be. 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 her spirits rose
+at last; 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 is 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 wish to
+ask him.” And, unmindful of Agnes’s darkened frown, or Guy’s look of
+wonder, Maddy darted from the room, and ran hastily down to the hall
+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 and beautiful, almost took his breath
+away. And yet, as he stood with her hand in his, and surveyed her from
+head to foot, he felt that he would rather have 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 golden 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 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 hall, where they would be less observed by
+any one passing through it.
+
+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 is hardly 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 are very becoming,” he said. “You would not look as well without
+them; so you had better wear them to-night, and to-morrow, if you will
+grant me an interview, I will talk with you further.”
+
+He said all this to gain the desired 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 flowing hair, came in for
+a full share of attention. But amid the gay throng there was none so
+fair or beautiful as Maddy, who deported herself with as much ease and
+grace as if she had all her life 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 that song. I cannot do it
+justice;” 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 have done 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,
+bird-like voice trembled for a moment with fear, and then, gaining
+confidence 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—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—that is, if Mr. Remington does not object. I dare say old Mr.
+and Mrs. Deacon Crane will start for home instanter at the first note of
+anything as wicked as Money Musk.”
+
+When the party was first talked about, Agnes had proposed that it be a
+regular dancing party, with suitable music provided for it. But Guy, who
+knew how such a thing would shock the puritanical prejudices of many of
+the people of Sommerville, who held dancing as a sin, said, “No—he
+wished all his guests to enjoy themselves. So he would not hire music,
+or have dancing as a rule. If any of the young people wished to amuse
+themselves that way, they were welcome to do so, and he presumed some
+one of their number could play sufficiently well for quadrilles, and
+possibly waltzing.” So, when appealed to on the subject by Miss Cutler,
+he replied, “Certainly; dance by all means if you wish to, and Maddy is
+willing to play.”
+
+Maddy bowed, and struck into a spirited waltz, which set many of the
+young people to whirling in circles, and produced the result which Maria
+so much desired, viz.: it took 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 towards 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 on his arm, 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—I shall find you a partner.”
+
+“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 shall ask
+you to dance with me by-and-bye.”
+
+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, who was waiting for him, 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 said, laughing a little spitefully,
+and feeling 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:
+
+“Not lack of brains, certainly. Education and circumstances have much to
+do with one’s views upon that subject. For my part, I like to see people
+consistent. Now, this 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 members promise to renounce;” and Guy bowed towards Maria,
+who, knowing that she was one of the church members 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 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 Maddy’s cheeks as the notes
+before her ran together, and the keys assumed the form of one huge key
+which she 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 up-stairs 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 and how she acted, and 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 so fast, and both tried to take you up. I think
+Miss Cutler real hateful, for she said, mean like, ‘Do you see them pull
+her, as if it was of the slightest consequence which carried her out?’”
+
+“Jessie!” Guy interposed sternly; while the doctor, who had spent the
+night at Aikenside, looked disapprovingly at the little girl, who
+subsided into silence after saying, in an under-tone, “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
+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 as 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
+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, who was 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 common-place remarks about the party, asking how
+Maddy had 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 ought to have divined it ere this; and if
+so, why didn’t she blush, or do 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, I believe I 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’m 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 could 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 silenced 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 grow
+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 your wife; 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!” 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 in the least, 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 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 Mr. Remington.”
+
+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 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 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. Maddy, as
+she listened, felt for him a strange kind of a 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 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 this girl who never could 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 that in time she
+should learn to love him. She would try so hard, she would 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, too
+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, except
+_Guy_. “I must tell him,” the doctor said, “because he knew 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 bye-gones, a thing
+never again to be talked about; and offering him her hand, she looked
+for an instant earnestly into his face, and 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-bye 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 responsible. Once there came over her the wild impulse to bid
+him stay, to say that she would be his wife; but, before 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 mind. 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 will 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 give 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 afterwards, 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 sick bed, 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
+come 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
+further than that. Neither did she ask Guy a word about her, though she
+knew he must have seen her. She did 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 romped 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 Maddy
+was up, and, unmindful of the snow falling so rapidly, started on that
+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 wintry
+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 would 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 wished 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, 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
+little feet resting on the stove-hearth the over-shoes, so full of
+melting snow. Maddy cared nothing 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 shoulders as she continued her
+questionings.
+
+“She is not dead, you say; but do you think—does anybody 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 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 her. At last, as she heard a clock in the adjoining room strike
+eight, she started up, exclaiming, “I have staid 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 word to have your room and the parlors
+warmed, and a nice hot supper 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
+went to John, asking him if it would be possible to get through to
+Honedale 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
+take a pair of farm horses. They can endure more. Tell Flora to send my
+traveling shawl—Miss Clyde may need it—and an extra carriage robe, and a
+bottle of wine, and my buckskin gloves, and bring Tom 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 supper of buttered toast, muffins, steak, and hot
+coffee, which Guy ordered from the small hotel just in rear of the
+depot. Tired, nervous, and almost helpless, she allowed Guy himself to
+prepare the 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, however, she never for a moment
+forgot her grandmother—though she did forget, in a measure, her anxiety,
+and was able to think 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 when John appeared, his crisp wool powdered with snow,
+which clung to his outer garments, and literally covered his dark cloth
+cap.
+
+“The snow was mighty deep,” he said, bowing to Maddy, “and the wind was
+getting colder. It was 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 before 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 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 kind 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 were 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 under gone 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 child-like 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 in that cottage, Maddy’s home, they
+recurred to him with tenfold intensity, for 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.
+
+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 gate of Heaven. This tribute to the Saviour 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 so 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 staid.
+
+“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 object 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 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 staid if a whole regiment of Mrs. Noahs had confronted him instead
+of one.
+
+Maddy wished it; that was reason enough for him; and giving a few
+directions to John, he staid, 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, criticising
+all their movements, as they vainly fancied he was. 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, and 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 thought of the future during the two
+days that white, rigid form lay in the 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 mourners, had driven away, taking both Guy and Mrs.
+Noah—when the neighbors, too, had gone, leaving only herself and the
+little girl who had been hired as help sitting by the fire, with the
+grandfather and the imbecile Uncle Joseph—then it was that she first
+began to feel the pressure of the burden—began to ask herself if she
+could live thus always, or at least for 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, the poor old grandfather, 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
+crazy way, took up the theme, begging like a very child that Maddy might
+be inclined to stay—that no young man 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 substance of Uncle Joseph’s 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 the 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, and
+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, and 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! 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 then was 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
+to Honedale 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 her thoughts went backward to that
+night ride in the snow-storm, and the numberless attentions he had paid
+then. She should 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 which the delighted old man
+whispered over the young girl, taking so cheerfully the burden from
+which many would have shrunk.
+
+With her grandfather’s hand upon her head, Maddy could almost feel that
+the blessing was descending; but in her own little room, 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 to 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, childish prayer,
+that God would help her do right; 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 other’s
+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 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 sometimes 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 seemed
+blended into one great good, just within her reach, and when the long
+clock below stairs struck three she did not hear it, but with the
+tear-stains upon her face she lay nestled among the 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 fire-place, 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.
+During her grandmother’s illness, Maddy’s room had been left to the care
+of the hired girl, Nettie, and 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 arrange 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
+fit for you to be sleeping with her. Mr. Remington was angry enough when
+he found it out.”
+
+“Mr. Remington, Flora? How should he know of our sleeping arrangements?”
+Maddy asked, but Flora evaded a direct reply, saying, “There were 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 nearly 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 so 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. Remington’s work. He
+thought I’d better come, as you would need help to get things set to
+rights, so you could go back to school.”
+
+Maddy felt her heart coming up in her throat, but she answered calmly,
+“Mr. Remington 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 are you going to do?”
+
+“Stay here and take care of grandpa,” Maddy aid, 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. Remington 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
+to every one. 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, where the rag carpet and the
+six cane-seated chairs and the Boston rocker were kept, 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, and telling her she
+looked tired and thin; then making her take the chair he had vacated, he
+stood over her, 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, 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 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. He
+talked of Jessie, of Aikenside, of the pleasant 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, where 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 opened the door and 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 could not repress a
+smile, while 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 very 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 round 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
+at home. Say, grandpa, which do you prefer?” and Maddy tried to speak
+playfully, though her heart-beats were almost audible as she waited for
+the answer.
+
+Grandpa could not deceive her. “He wanted his darling sorely, and he
+wanted her to be happy,” he said. Perhaps they could 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 staid with her old
+grandpa to the last?
+
+He looked very pale and thin, and his hair was as 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 hold on him her resolution would give way.
+
+It was in vain that Guy strove to change Maddy’s decision, 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 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 should at least call
+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 go up to Aikenside. Agnes would not go to
+Honedale neither would she give other reasons for the obstinacy than the
+apparently foolish one that she did not wish to see a crazy man, as such
+things made her nervous. Still, she did not object to Jessie’s going as
+often as she liked, and she sent by her many little delicacies from
+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 was less cheerful
+in its tone; and care for the imbecile Joseph, who clung to her as a
+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 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 asleep. Then if he woke, 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 hours to Maddy, and when 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 often 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, a life with him would be 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, and not as she used to be when he knew her. “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, poor Maddy, are doing for me
+what it should have been her place to do? Had I a voice,” and the crazy
+man would grow 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 he could have borne 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 young Remington, who, everybody knew,
+was engaged to 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 won’t. He knows what he is about. He is not green enough
+to marry Grandpa Markham’s daughter; and if she don’t look out, she’ll
+get herself into a pretty scrape. It don’t look well, anyhow, for her to
+be putting on airs, as she has done ever since big folks took her up.”
+
+All this and much more was said, and by the time the patchwork quilt 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 by 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 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 was not; 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 rose to
+go, laid her motherly hand on Maddy’s head, saying 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, 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 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 her
+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.”
+
+There was in Lucy’s 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, 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 came
+and went in 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 for 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 to-morrow, and she could see him just as he would look
+coming up the walk, easy and self-possessed, confident of his reception,
+his handsome face beaming 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 there. 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 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, who was 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, 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 awoke the pain in her temples was still there; she could
+not rise, and was 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 there 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, ignorant, meddlesome neighbors, who had
+dared to talk of him, or to breathe a suspicious word against Maddy
+Clyde. 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 roused Guy’s pride, and writing back:
+
+“You shall be obeyed. Good-bye!”—he sprang into his buggy, and Maddy
+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, and making 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 staid away,
+she was ready to step in; so she came laden with sympathy and other more
+substantial comforts brought from Aikenside.
+
+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 that “he had 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
+ached so with fear lest she should choose to go back and leave him to a
+stranger. “But my darling staid with her old grandpa. She’ll never be
+sorry for it. 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 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 staid 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 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! You 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 listening to the words of prayer,
+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 went to sleep while
+Maddy kept her watch beside him, until she too fell into a troubled
+sleep, from which she was roused 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 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 her sundry little pills and powders, 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 she meant, or why she used that word, only it seemed to her that
+Jessie had just come 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, pallid
+face still to be seen in the room below, or had they buried him from her
+sight? She would know, and with a strange kind of nervous strength she
+rose, 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—a 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 bed-room 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 around 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, and
+Maddy could see the head-stones 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 hat, 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.
+There were 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 further, 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 down did not hear the rapid step coming down the grassy
+road, past the marble tomb-stones, to where she was crouching upon the
+ground. There it stopped, and in a half whisper some one called, “Maddy!
+Maddy!”
+
+Then she started, and lifting up her head saw before her Guy Remington.
+For a moment she regarded him intently, while he said to her, kindly,
+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 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 to resist, 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. Dear Maddy, I did not know of all this
+till three days ago, when Agnes’s letter found me almost at the Rocky
+Mountains. Then 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, 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, that she
+was there in Guy’s arms, with his kisses on her forehead, lips and
+cheek, his words of love 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, whoso 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, who had 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, which showed so plainly how hard
+it had been driven.
+
+They carried Maddy again into her little chamber, 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
+arm-chair, 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 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 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. He had neglected to answer Agnes’s letters when he
+first left home, and she did not know where he was until a short time
+before his return, when she wrote apprising him of grandpa’s death and
+Maddy’s severe illness. This brought him at once, and 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 constantly, 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 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;
+crying often, “Help me, Father, to do my duty, and give me, too, a
+greater inclination to do it than I now possess.”
+
+Maddy’s heart failed her sometimes, and she might have yielded to the
+temptation but for a letter from Lucy, 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 just 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, so
+old, yet always new to him who tells it and to her who listens, the
+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; the story which made Guy
+himself pant nervously and tremble like a leaf, so earnestly he told her
+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; 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, with 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
+was 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, and be to her what a
+husband should be; and he had listened while she talked of another
+world, where they neither marry or 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 hold one of her hands
+at parting, bending low his head, while she laid the other on it as she
+blessed him, letting her fingers thread his soft brown hair for a moment
+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. I am 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 influence was in favor of Maddy, and the good
+lady made 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 started
+for England the latter part of October, as unhappy and unwilling a
+bridegroom, it may be, as ever went 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. She opened Lucy’s first, and read of
+the sweet girl’s great happiness in seeing Guy 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, so fiercely it throbbed and
+ached with anguish. She was out in the woods when she read the letter,
+and laying her face in the grass she sobbed as she never sobbed before.
+
+The doctor’s letter was opened next, and Maddy read with blinding tears
+that which for a moment increased her pain and sent to her 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 Guy,
+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 thought 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 everything, 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 be married 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 leafless 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 at last and was glad that he made no direct reference to the
+past except when 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 mad-cap 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. The wound was very serious, he
+said, and fever might ensue. 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 staid altogether at the
+cottage, and who, as Guy’s sister, was a great comfort to Maddy.
+
+As the fever which the doctor had predicted, increased, and Uncle Joseph
+grew more and more delirious, his cries for Sarah were heart-rending,
+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,
+supposing she could be found.
+
+“Perhaps,” and Agnes brushed abstractedly her long flowing hair, winding
+it around her 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 bed-time.
+
+The next morning Agnes’s 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 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 should have
+come to see her. But Agnes’s business was with 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 casting her eyes rapidly from one part of the room to another,
+resting now upon the tinware hanging on the wall, and now upon the gourd
+swimming in the water-pail which stood 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 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 changed in various ways. 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
+you. Let me sit by your uncle 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 back room of the house, was busy with her
+ironing. Thus there was no one to see 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, as she
+watched him and smothered the cry of pain which rose 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’s breath came in short,
+quick gasps as, glancing furtively round 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, with eyes and hair like _hers_?”
+
+“I’m the ‘madam,’ from Aikenside,” Agnes said, quite loud, as Flora
+passed the door. Then when she was gone she added, softly, “I’m Sarah.
+Don’t you know me? Sarah Agnes Morris.”
+
+The truth 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 without 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, she
+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. 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 round 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 him, 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 answered, while the smile so painful to see again
+broke 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 is dead, and it 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 step-mother,” Agnes replied, whereupon Uncle Joseph laughed so
+long and loud that Maddy woke, 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, 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, when a mere child, I was for
+three months your grandmother’s hired girl, and afterwards 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 towards
+Maddy, while, if it were possible, something of her olden love was
+revived 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, 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 for 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, and if she was happy with the
+old man whom she married, and who they had heard was not so rich after
+all, as most of the money belonged to the son, who inherited it from his
+mother; but Maddy kept the secret from every one, so that even Jessie
+never suspected why her mother staid day after day at the cottage;
+watching and waiting until the last day of Joseph’s life.
+
+She was alone with him when he died, and 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. 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, where Maddy was at last alone. Unfettered by care and
+anxiety for sick ones, her aching heart was free to go to the stately
+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 leafless October woods, Maddy had not heard from
+Guy directly, though Lucy had written 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 intended for Guy’s young bride; but Mrs. Noah guessed
+it all, and pitied 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 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 say 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 knew 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 now, 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 bitterly 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 awhile, 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 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 nine she called Mrs. Noah to
+her and whispered faintly:
+
+“They were to be married before twelve, you know, so it was over two
+hours ago, 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 the day and the night
+of the fourth of December were the longest, dreariest she ever knew, and
+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 or three weeks, 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—and when 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 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 hot-house, and 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 not have come,” 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 in. 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 to
+Honedale, 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, 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 round 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, and bade 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 years 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 in her pleasant room she made her toilet for
+dinner, with Guy standing by and looking on. 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 bed-room, 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 the horse of a stranger, who
+went back on 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 rose to her feet just
+as the door turned upon its hinges, letting in a powerful draught of
+wind which extinguished the light, 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 towards her had been the footsteps of
+the dead, instead of belonging, as she knew they did, to Guy
+Remington—who, with garments saturated with rain, felt for her in the
+darkness, and found her where from faintness she had crouched again
+beside the chair, and drawing her closely to him in a passionate, almost
+painful embrace, said, so tenderly, so lovingly:
+
+“Maddy, my darling, my own! We shall never be parted again.”
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER XXIII.
+ LUCY.
+
+
+Hours went by, and the hands of the clock 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, “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 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 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
+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 and still, her neck and dress and golden hair stained
+with the pale life-blood oozing from her livid lips. A blood-vessel had
+been suddenly ruptured, the physician said, adding that it was what he
+had been fearing for some time, and now it had come—and there was no
+hope. They told her she must die, for the mother would have them tell
+her. Once, for a few moments, there was on her face a 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 is 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 the 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 glad. 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 afterwards as I
+stood by my dying Lucy. I saw how good, how sweet she was, and something
+of the old 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 do so. 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 would not be jealous if you sometimes talked of your dead Lucy, and
+I know she will help lead you 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
+to-night. I could not remain there, knowing you were here alone, even
+though some old fogies might say it was not proper—God knows what is in
+my heart. 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 sat talking
+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 man 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.
+
+
+It is 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 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; and stifling her own grief, Maddy
+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; and, save that she missed her husband
+terribly, she was not lonely, for her beautiful dark-eyed boy, whom they
+called Guy, junior, kept her busy, while not many weeks after her
+husband’s departure, Guy read with moistened eyes of a little
+golden-haired daughter, whom Maddy had named Lucy Atherstone, and gazed
+upon a curl of hair she inclosed, asking if it were not like some other
+hair now moldering back to dust within an English churchyard. “Maggie
+says it is,” she wrote, alluding to the wife of Dr. Holbrook, who had
+come to Aikenside to stay, while her husband also 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 sits neglected on the nursery
+floor, while her mother and Jessie and Maggie Holbrook 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 has come 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, for she had
+hoped her husband would 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 wished she was a boy, so she could enlist, how
+nicely Flora is married and settled at the cottage in Honedale, and then
+asks if he knows anything of the Confederate 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 fighting for the
+Confederacy, but from exchanged prisoners, who had come in 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 to all, and once binding up a drummer boy’s aching
+head with a handkerchief, which he still retained as a memento of her,
+and on whose corner could be faintly traced the name of “Agnes
+Remington.”
+
+Jessie’s eyes are full of tears as she says:
+
+“Dear mamma. 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 so very bad,” 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 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 wanted the south to
+beat. 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 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 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 fancy or not, Guy thought
+it beamed upon him again 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:
+
+“Yes, darling, Margaret Holbrook is right—our baby daughter is very much
+like our dear lost Lucy Atherstone.”
+
+
+ THE END.
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+
+
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+ thousands of admirers. It is an artistic conception; a true romance,
+ which has about it a quality of real life. It is a dramatic tale
+ equal in many respects to the “Prisoner of Zenda,” and fully as
+ interesting. Cloth bound, gilt top.
+
+ 1.50
+
+
+ THE MAN WHO DARED.
+
+ By JOHN P. RITTER. Mr. Ritter has achieved a work of rare interest. It
+ is a great historical picture of the time of Robespierre, in which
+ fact and fancy are welded together in a fine realization of the
+ spirit of the times. It has all the elements of a genuine romance,
+ and is an unusually fascinating historical romance. Illustrated.
+ Cloth bound, gilt top.
+
+ 1.25
+
+
+ THE DAY OF TEMPTATION.
+
+ By WM. LE QUEUX. This is one of this author’s best stories. It is
+ thrilling and realistic, and bears out a mystery which carries the
+ reader through a labyrinth of strange experiences. Cloth bound.
+
+ 1.50
+
+
+ THE STORY OF THE ROUGH RIDERS.
+
+ By EDWARD MARSHALL. The most intensely interesting book of modern
+ times. It is devoted entirely to this one famous regiment. It
+ contains a _complete roster of the regiment_, and is profusely
+ illustrated from photographs and drawings. Cloth bound.
+
+ 1.50
+
+
+ WATERS THAT PASS AWAY.
+
+ By N. B. WINSTON. “There is a deep lesson of life to be learned from a
+ book like this, and in it one may study character, and the
+ infallible trend of social consequences, sorrow ever following sin,
+ and sin in its turn yielding to joy when true repentance follows
+ after.”—_Philadelphia Item._ Cloth bound.
+
+ 1.25
+
+
+ THE RETURN OF THE O’MAHONY.
+
+ By HAROLD FREDERIC. To those who have read “The Damnation of Theron
+ Ware,” and “Seth’s Brother’s Wife,” there will be found in this
+ extremely delightful novel, “The Return of the O’Mahony,” a book
+ that will gratify the reader much more than any other book of the
+ times. Illustrated, and with portrait of the author. Cloth bound,
+ deckle edge, gilt top.
+
+ 1.50
+
+
+ A CHEQUE FOR THREE THOUSAND.
+
+ By ARTHUR HENRY VEYSEY. (Tenth edition.) It’s a jolly good story,
+ bright and clear. Dramatic, full of life and action and a brilliant
+ farce from end to end. You cannot put it down until you finish it,
+ and you will mention it many a time when you want to relate
+ something novel and odd among your friends. Attractively bound in
+ cloth.
+
+ 1.00
+
+
+ A PEDIGREE IN PAWN.
+
+ By ARTHUR HENRY VEYSEY. Author of “A Cheque for Three Thousand,” which
+ has run into its _seventh edition_. Original, bright, sparkling fun
+ runs all through “A Pedigree in Pawn.” It will be talked about and
+ laughed over more than any other book of the year. Illustrated with
+ 14 character drawings. Cloth bound.
+
+ 1.25
+
+
+ HATS OFF.
+
+ By ARTHUR HENRY VEYSEY. Author of “A Cheque for Three Thousand,” etc.
+ A splendid story for summer reading. Are you tired, blue? Read HATS
+ OFF! Do you want a story for the hammock? Read HATS OFF! Do you want
+ a story with “go,” with an original plot? Read HATS OFF! Do you want
+ to laugh? Read HATS OFF!
+
+ Cloth bound. 1.25
+ Paper covers. 50
+
+
+ THE STATEROOM OPPOSITE.
+
+ By ARTHUR HENRY VEYSEY. Author of “A Cheque for Three Thousand,” etc.
+ Is a well balanced detective story. It is not overdrawn as such
+ books usually are, but full of mysterious and vital interest. It is
+ a departure from Mr. Veysey’s previous humorous style in “A Cheque
+ for Three Thousand,” and “A Pedigree in Pawn,” proving him to be a
+ remarkably versatile writer. Most of the events take place on
+ shipboard. It is a powerful story, with a most dramatic climax, and
+ inimitably original characters.
+
+ Cloth bound. 1.25
+ Paper covers. 50
+
+
+ CLEO THE MAGNIFICENT; or, The Muse of the Real.
+
+ By LOUIS ZANGWILL. _The Boston Times_ says: “The story is drawn with a
+ master hand and the characters stand forth in clear relief. It is in
+ every way worthy of Mr. Zangwill’s reputation.” One of the best
+ novels of the year. Cloth bound.
+
+ 1.50
+
+
+ THE DRONES MUST DIE.
+
+ By MAX NORDAU. _Sixth Edition._ “As purely original as if no other
+ novel had ever been written. The open secret of such writing is that
+ it is the result of the experience and the observation of one of the
+ keenest observers—a man who exaggerates nothing and sets down naught
+ in malice, but sees with incomparable clearness, and writes down
+ what he sees.”—_The Bookseller and Newsman._
+
+ 2.00
+
+
+ TWO ODD GIRLS.
+
+ A charming novel, by JOHN A. PETERS. A bright, clever and interesting
+ story is this, with a vein of humor underlying and running through
+ it. The style of the novel is brilliant and will be read with
+ pleasure and avidity by all who peruse its first page. Cloth bound.
+
+ 1.50
+
+
+ MOTHER TRUTH’S MELODIES.
+
+ By MRS. E. P. MILLER. A kindergarten of the most useful knowledge for
+ children, 450 illustrations. “Every lover of children and of truth
+ will be interested in this charming book; every house in the land
+ should have a copy; it will entertain and instruct more truly and
+ more sensibly than any other book. It is made up of simple stories
+ in verse, the jingle of which may be music in the children’s ears,
+ and the pictures a delight to little eyes; made in a form to attract
+ the attention of the smallest children, and one to readily fix in
+ their memory the stories told.” Cloth bound.
+
+ 1.50
+
+
+ THE TWENTIETH CENTURY COOK BOOK.
+
+ By MRS. C. F. MORITZ and ADELE KAHN. A modern and complete household
+ cook book such as this is, since cooking has come to be a science no
+ less than an art must find a welcome and become the most popular
+ cook book of all the many now published.
+
+ “It can hardly be realized that there is anything worth eating
+ that its receipt cannot be found in this volume. This volume has
+ been carefully compiled and contains not only the receipts for
+ an elaborate menu, but also the modest ones have been
+ considered.”—_Bookseller and Newsman._ Bound in oil cloth, for
+ kitchen use.
+
+ 1.50
+
+
+ THE WHITE DEVIL OF VERDE.
+
+ By LUCIE FRANCE PIERCE. This is a story of pure love and stirring
+ action. It is crisp, bright, often thrilling and is exceptionally
+ well-written, the style is clear, and the plot distinctly life-like.
+ There is not a character introduced that does not make an immediate
+ and successful appeal to the imagination of the reader. It is a
+ delightful tale of Western life. Cloth bound.
+
+ 1.25
+
+
+ TRUE DETECTIVE STORIES.
+
+ From the Pinkerton Archives. By CLEVELAND MOFFETT. The absorbing
+ stories told here by Mr. Moffett are statements of actual facts
+ repeated without exaggeration or false coloring. The author, by the
+ help of the Pinkerton Agency, has given the inside history of famous
+ cases which the general public only know of through newspaper
+ accounts. Cloth bound.
+
+ .75
+
+
+ THE COMPLETE WORKS OF ARTEMUS WARD.
+
+ (CHARLES FARRAR BROWNE.)
+
+ With a biographical sketch of the author by MELVILLE D. LANDON. The
+ present edition is of a work which has been for more than thirty
+ years prominently before the public, and which may justly be said to
+ have maintained a standard character. It is issued because of a
+ demand for a _better edition_ than has ever been published.
+
+ In order to supply this acknowledged want, the publishers have
+ enlarged and perfected this edition by adding some matter not
+ heretofore published in book form.
+
+ A large 12mo. printed from new electro plates, with 28 full page
+ illustrations, and Photogravure Portrait of the author, handsomely
+ bound in cloth, gilt top.
+
+ 2.00
+
+
+ AN AMERICAN CITIZEN.
+
+ By MADELEINE LUCETTE RYLEY. The fact that the play of “An American
+ Citizen” has had the most successful run of any modern drama should
+ guarantee a wide sale of this book. The talented and successful
+ writer has displayed a wonderful skill in developing the plot, all
+ the outlines of the play are artistically rounded into a complete
+ novel, which the reader will find intensely interesting from the
+ first line to the end. Cloth bound.
+
+ 1.50
+
+
+ THE RAINBOW FEATHER.
+
+ By FERGUS HUME. Author of “The Mystery of a Hansom Cab,” “Claude Duval
+ of Ninety-five,” etc., etc. Published simultaneously with the London
+ edition. This is a wonderfully clever story, intensely interesting,
+ the mystery is kept up to the end, and when the reader lays down the
+ book it is with the satisfaction of having been fully entertained by
+ a remarkably fascinating tale. Cloth bound.
+
+ 1.25
+
+
+ HOUSES OF GLASS.
+
+ By WALLACE LLOYD, M.D. It is more important than most books, and
+ deserves special attention for several reasons. From a purely
+ literary standpoint it has claims, being exceedingly well-written,
+ and most profoundly felt. Besides being founded upon philosophy, the
+ story is firm, clear-cut, and so interesting as to lift the book far
+ above the level of ordinary romances. Cloth bound.
+
+ 1.50
+
+
+ BEVERLY OSGOOD; or, When the Great City is Awake.
+
+ By JANE VALENTINE. This romance sets forth New York life as seen by a
+ student of city conditions of both rich and poor. In Nina Palermo,
+ the heroine, is a convincing illustration of the fearful effect of
+ evil circumstances on the life of an innocent and beautiful but poor
+ girl. The wide influence of truly good and Christian women toward
+ uplifting the fallen and quietly aiding reform, is also portrayed in
+ the character of “My Lady.” It is a work which should do much good.
+ Cloth bound.
+
+ 1.50
+
+
+ MY FRIEND THE CAPTAIN; or, Two Yankees in Europe.
+
+ By W. L. TERHUNE. The book is one which has much value as a guide book
+ for people going abroad. It has much of interest to those who have
+ never been abroad. Mr. Terhune’s camera served him well, and the
+ book is embellished with a hundred or more illustrations from his
+ photographs. Cloth bound.
+
+ 1.50
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+
+
+
+ TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
+
+
+ ● Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.
+ ● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 74902 ***
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+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 74902 ***</div>
+
+<div class='tnotes covernote'>
+
+<p class='c000'><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong></p>
+
+<p class='c000'>New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='figcenter id001'>
+<img src='images/i_frontis.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic001'>
+<p>IN A HALF WHISPER SOME ONE CALLED, “MADDY! MADDY!”—<i>Madeline, Page <a href='#Page_326'>326</a>.</i></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='titlepage'>
+
+<div>
+ <h1 class='c001'>MADELINE</h1>
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c002'>
+ <div>BY</div>
+ <div class='c003'><span class='xlarge'>MARY J. HOLMES</span></div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/i_title.jpg' alt='[Logo]' class='ig001'>
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+ <div class='nf-center'>
+ <div><span class='large'>G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY</span></div>
+ <div><span class='large'>PUBLISHERS      NEW YORK</span></div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c004'>
+ <div><span class='small'>COPYRIGHT, 1881,</span></div>
+ <div><span class='small'>DANIEL HOLMES.</span></div>
+ <div><span class='small'>ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.</span></div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_v'>v</span>
+ <h2 class='c005'>CONTENTS.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<table class='table0'>
+ <tr>
+ <th class='c006'>CHAPTER</th>
+ <th class='c007'> </th>
+ <th class='c008'>PAGE</th>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c006'>I.</td>
+ <td class='c007'>The Examining Committee</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_7'>7</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c006'>II.</td>
+ <td class='c007'>Madeline Clyde</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_23'>23</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c006'>III.</td>
+ <td class='c007'>The Examination</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_35'>35</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c006'>IV.</td>
+ <td class='c007'>Grandpa Markham</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_53'>53</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c006'>V.</td>
+ <td class='c007'>The Result</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_65'>65</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c006'>VI.</td>
+ <td class='c007'>Convalescence</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_86'>86</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c006'>VII.</td>
+ <td class='c007'>The Drive</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_106'>106</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c006'>VIII.</td>
+ <td class='c007'>Shadowings of What was to Be</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_116'>116</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c006'>IX.</td>
+ <td class='c007'>The Decision</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_127'>127</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c006'>X.</td>
+ <td class='c007'>At Aikenside</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_131'>131</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c006'>XI.</td>
+ <td class='c007'>Guy at Home</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_146'>146</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c006'>XII.</td>
+ <td class='c007'>Lucy’s Letter</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_173'>173</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c006'>XIII.</td>
+ <td class='c007'>Gossip</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_186'>186</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c006'>XIV.</td>
+ <td class='c007'>Maddy and Lucy</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_203'>203</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_vi'>vi</span>XV.</td>
+ <td class='c007'>The Holidays</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_225'>225</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c006'>XVI.</td>
+ <td class='c007'>The Doctor and Maddy</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_256'>256</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c006'>XVII.</td>
+ <td class='c007'>Womanhood</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_267'>267</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c006'>XVIII.</td>
+ <td class='c007'>The Burden</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_282'>282</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c006'>XIX.</td>
+ <td class='c007'>Life at the Cottage</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_302'>302</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c006'>XX.</td>
+ <td class='c007'>The Burden grows Heavier</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_322'>322</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c006'>XXI.</td>
+ <td class='c007'>The Interval before the Marriage</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_337'>337</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c006'>XXII.</td>
+ <td class='c007'>Before the Bridal</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_342'>342</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c006'>XXIII.</td>
+ <td class='c007'>Lucy</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_364'>364</a></td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c006'>XXIV.</td>
+ <td class='c007'>Finale</td>
+ <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_369'>369</a></td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+<div class='chapter ph1'>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c004'>
+ <div>MADELINE.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>
+ <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER I.<br> <span class='c009'>THE EXAMINING COMMITTEE.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='c010'>
+ <img class='drop-capi' src='images/di_007.jpg' width='100' alt=''>
+</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
+Twenty-five years ago the people of
+Devonshire, a little town among the
+New England hills, had the reputation
+of being rather quarrelsome. Sometimes about meek,
+gentle Mrs. Tiverton, the minister’s wife, whose manner
+of housekeeping, or style of dress, did not exactly
+suit them; sometimes about the minister himself,
+who vainly imagined that if he preached three
+sermons a week, attended the Wednesday evening
+prayer-meeting, the Thursday evening sewing society,
+visited all the sick, and gave to every beggar
+that called at his door, besides superintending the
+Sunday-school, he was earning his salary of six hundred
+per year.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>Sometimes, and that not rarely, the quarrel crept
+into the choir, and then for two or three Sundays it
+was all in vain that Mr. Tiverton read the psalm
+and hymn, and cast troubled glances toward the
+vacant seats of his refractory singers. There was
+no one to respond, except poor Mr. Hodges, who
+usually selected something in a minor key, and
+pitched it so high that few could follow him; while
+Mrs. Captain Simpson—whose daughter was the organist—rolled
+her eyes at her next neighbor, or
+fanned herself furiously in token of her disgust.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Latterly, however, there had arisen a new cause
+for quarrel, before which everything else sank into
+insignificance. Now, though the village of Devonshire
+could boast but one public school-house,
+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 slip of paper certifying his
+or her qualification to teach a common school. It
+was strange that over such an office so fierce a feud
+should have arisen; but when Mr. Tiverton, Squire
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>Lamb, and Lawyer Whittemore, in the full conviction
+that they were doing right, refused a certificate
+of scholarship to a 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 were roused as they had never been before—the
+aristocracy abusing, and the democracy
+upholding the dismayed trio, who at last quietly
+resigned their office, and Devonshire was without a
+school committee.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 the quarrel began,
+young Dr. Holbrook, a native of Boston, had rented
+the pleasant little office on the village common, formerly
+occupied by old Dr. Carey, whose days of
+practice were over. 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>in vain that he remonstrated, saying he knew nothing
+whatever of the qualifications requisite for a
+teacher; that he could not talk to <i>girls</i> unless they
+happened to be sick; that he should make a miserable
+failure, and be turned out of office in less
+than a month. The people would not listen. Somebody
+must examine the teachers, and that somebody
+might as well be Dr. Holbrook as any one.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Only be strict with ’em and 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 <i>cut</i> one or two at first; that’ll
+give you a name for being particular, which is just
+the thing.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Accordingly, with no definite idea as to what was
+expected of him, except that he was to find out
+“whether a gal knew her P’s and Q’s,” and was also
+to “cut one or two of the first candidates,” Dr.
+Holbrook accepted the situation, and then waited
+rather nervously his initiation. He was never at his
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>ease in the society of ladies, unless they stood
+in need of his professional services, when he lost
+sight of <i>them</i> at once, and thought only of their disease.
+His patient once well, however, he became
+nervously shy and embarrassed, retreating as soon
+as possible from her presence to the shelter 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 were ere long to invade his
+sanctum.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Something for you, sir. The lady will wait for
+an answer,” said his office boy, passing to his master
+a little note, and nodding toward the street.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Following the direction indicated, the doctor saw
+near his door an old-fashioned one-horse wagon, such
+as is still occasionally seen in New England among
+the farmers who till the barren soil and rarely indulge
+in anything new. On this occasion it was 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 him a
+pleasing, patriarchal appearance, which interested the
+doctor far more than did the flutter of the blue ribbon
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>beside him, even though the bonnet that ribbon
+tied shaded the face of a young girl.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>The note was from her, and, tearing it open, the
+doctor read, in a pretty, girlish handwriting:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Dr. Holbrook.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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:</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“<span class='sc'>Dr. Holbrook—Sir</span>: Will you be at leisure to
+examine me on Monday afternoon, at three o’clock?</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“<span class='sc'>Madeline A. Clyde.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>“P. S.—For particular reasons I hope you can attend
+to me as early as Monday.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>M. A. C.”</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Dr. Holbrook knew very little of girls and their
+peculiarities, 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 the thought
+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 Madeline
+Clyde’s teeth, than have set himself up before
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>her as some horrid ogre, asking what she knew and
+what she did not know. But the choice was not
+his, and, turning at last to the boy, he said shortly,
+“Tell her to come.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 <i>did</i> strike him that the voice was singularly
+sweet, which, after the boy had delivered the message,
+said to the old man, “Oh, I am so glad; now, grandpa,
+we’ll go home. I know you must be tired.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Very slowly Sorrel trotted down the street, the
+blue ribbons fluttering in the wind, and one little ungloved
+hand 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 kind of a girl, and very good to her
+grandfather. But what should he ask her, and how
+demean himself towards her, and would it be well to
+“cut her,” as Colonel Lewis had advised him to do to
+one or two of the first? Monday afternoon was frightfully
+near, he thought, as this was only Saturday; and
+then, feeling that he must be prepared, he brought out
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>from the trunk, where, since his arrival in Devonshire,
+they had been quietly lying, books enough to have
+frightened an elder person than poor little Madeline
+Clyde, riding slowly home, 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 History which she knew by heart. How she
+would have trembled could she have seen the formidable
+volumes heaped upon the doctor’s 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
+other books, into which poor Madeline had never so
+much as looked. Arranging them in a row, and half
+wishing himself back again in 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 class='c011'>“One hour more,” he said to himself, just as the
+roll of wheels and a cloud of dust announced the
+arrival of some one.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Can it be Sorrel and the square wagon?” Dr.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>Holbrook thought. But far different from Grandfather
+Clyde’s turnout was the stylish carriage and the
+spirited bays which the colored coachman stopped in
+front of the white cottage in the same yard with the
+office, the house where Dr. Holbrook boarded, and
+where, if he married while in Devonshire, he would
+most likely bring his wife.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Guy Remington, the very chap of all others
+whom I’d rather see, and, as I live, there’s Agnes
+with Jessie. Who knew <i>she</i> 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 class='c011'>“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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>friend,” and something which was intended as a sigh
+of regret for “poor, dear papa,” escaped Agnes Remington’s
+lips as she pushed a little curly-haired girl
+toward Dr. Holbrook.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Mrs. Conner, the lady of the house, had seen them
+by this time, and came running down the walk to
+meet her distinguished visitor, wondering a little to
+what she was indebted for this call from one who,
+since her marriage with the aristocratic Dr. Remington,
+had somewhat ignored 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 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 it just now, he had
+other matters to talk about; and so, jamming his pen-knife
+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 class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>“Oh, yes. She recovered from 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,” was Guy Remington’s reply; whereupon
+the pen-knife 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 said:
+“She’ll hardly marry again, though she may. She’s
+young—not over twenty-six—”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Thirty, if the family Bible does not lie,” said
+Guy; “but she’d never forgive me if she knew I told
+you that. So let it pass that she’s twenty-eight. She
+certainly is not more than two 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 step-mother’s anxiety to visit plain Mrs.
+Conner the moment she heard that Dr. Holbrook was
+her boarder. But the doctor only laughed merrily at
+the idea of his being father to Guy, who was his
+college chum and long-tried friend.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Agnes Remington, who was reclining languidly in
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>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 Madeline Clyde, whom he expected 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.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Oh, take it, then; take my place, Guy,” the
+doctor exclaimed, eagerly. “She does not know me
+from Adam. She never saw me in her life. Here are
+books, all you will need. You went to a district
+school a whole week that summer when you were
+staying in the country, with your grandmother.
+You surely have some idea what they do there, 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 class='c011'>Guy Remington liked anything savoring of a
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>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 <i>commence</i> the
+examination, provided the doctor would sit by, and
+occasionally come to his aid.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“You must write the certificate, of course,” he
+said, “testifying that she is qualified to teach.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Yes, certainly, Guy, if she is; but maybe she
+won’t be, and my orders are, to be strict—very strict
+at first, and cut one or two. You have no idea what a
+row the town is in.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“How did the girl look?” Guy asked, and the
+doctor replied: “Saw nothing but her bonnet and a
+blue ribbon. Came in a queer old go-giggle of a
+wagon, such as your country farmers drive. There
+was an old man with her in a camlet cloak. Guess
+she won’t be likely to impress 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 class='c011'>“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 risk of a
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>climate like ours. If she were here I should be glad,
+for it is terribly lonely up at Aikenside, and I must
+stay there, you know. It would be a shame to let the
+place run down.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>But no such doubts dwelt in the mind of Guy
+Remington. Eminently fitted for domestic happiness,
+he looked forward anxiously to the time when Lucy
+Atherstone, the fair English girl to whom he had become
+engaged when he visited Europe, four years ago,
+should be strong enough to bear transplanting to
+American soil. Twice since his engagement he had
+visited her, finding her always loving and sweet, but
+never quite ready to come with him to his home in
+America. He must wait a little longer; and he was
+waiting, satisfied that the girl was worth the sacrifice,
+as indeed she was, for a fairer, sweeter flower never
+bloomed than Lucy Atherstone, his affianced bride.
+Guy loved to think of her, 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>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 <i>go-giggle</i> was stopping in front of the
+office, and that from it a young lady was alighting.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Naturally polite, 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-bye, grandpa. Don’t fear for me, and I hope
+you will have good luck;” then, as he drove away,
+she ran a step after him and said, “Don’t look so sorry,
+please, 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 class='c011'>“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 where
+she knocked timidly.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Glancing involuntarily at each other, the young
+men exchanged meaning smiles, while the doctor
+whispered softly, “Verdant—that’s sure.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>As Guy sat nearest the door, it was he who opened
+it, 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, and whom she naturally
+mistook for Dr. Holbrook, whom she had never seen.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>
+ <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER II.<br> <span class='c009'>MADELINE CLYDE.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='c010'>
+ <img class='drop-capi' src='images/di_023.jpg' width='100' alt=''>
+</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
+Maddy, her grandfather and grandmother
+called her, and there was a world of unutterable
+tenderness in the voices of the
+old couple when they spoke that name, while their
+dim eyes lighted up with pride and joy whenever
+they rested upon the young girl who made the sunlight
+of their home. She was the child of their only
+daughter, and 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.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>For forty years the aged couple had lived in the
+old red farm-house, tilling the barren soil of the
+rocky homestead, and, save on the sad night when
+they heard that Richard Clyde was lost at sea, and
+the far sadder morning when their daughter died,
+they had been tolerably free from sorrow; and, truly
+thankful for the blessings so long vouchsafed them,
+they had retired each night in peace with God and
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>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 upon
+Mr. Markham, who, to meet the demand, had been
+compelled to mortgage his homestead; the recreant
+neighbor still insisting that long before the mortgage
+was due he should 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 for mercy from a man
+like Silas Slocum. The money must either be forthcoming,
+or the red farm-house be sold, with its few
+acres of land; and as among his neighbors there
+was not one who had the money to spare, even
+if they had been willing to do so, he must look
+for it among strangers.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“If I could only help,” Madeline 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 the committee-man; he
+likes us, and I don’t believe but what he’ll let me have
+it. I mean to go and see;” and, before the old
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>people had recovered from their astonishment, Madeline
+had caught her bonnet and shawl and was flying
+down the road.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+inquire what others thought of a child like her becoming
+a school-mistress. The people thought well of it,
+and before the close of the next day it was generally
+known through Honedale, as the southern part of
+Devonshire was called, that pretty little Maddy Clyde
+had been engaged as teacher, and was to receive three
+dollars a week, with the understanding that she must
+board herself. It did not take Madeline long to calculate
+that twelve times three dollars were thirty-six
+dollars, 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 class='c011'>“You can tell them that you are sure of paying
+thirty-six dollars in the fall, and if I do well, maybe
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>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 class='c011'>She <i>did</i> 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 class='c011'>“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 which there was in certain lights a
+reddish tinge, which added to its richness and
+beauty.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 differ. There’s a new
+committee-man, that Dr. Holbrook, from Boston, and
+new ones are apt to be mighty strict, and especially
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>young ones like him. They say he is mighty larned,
+and can speak in furrin tongues.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Instantly Maddy’s face flushed 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 fail. She was called by everybody the
+very best scholar in the Honedale 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 and
+praised so much. Of course she should not fail, though
+she <i>did</i> 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 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>town, and ask its young master for the loan of three
+hundred dollars.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“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 gate-posts.
+But the house is finest of all. There’s a drawing-room
+bigger than a ball-room, with carpets that let your
+feet sink in so far; pictures and mirrors clear to the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>floor—think of that, grandpa! a looking-glass so tall
+that one can see the very bottom of her 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 class='c011'>“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 no ways likely you’ll ever live
+in the like of it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>Grandpa Markham shook his head.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“They have, but it’s mostly their ruination; so
+don’t build castles in the air about this Guy Remington.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“<i>Me!</i> 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>one bit proud, and is so pleasant that 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 for sure!”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Perhaps we both shall be terribly disappointed,”
+suggested grandpa, but Maddy was more hopeful.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'><i>She</i>, at least, should not fail; while what she had
+heard of Guy Remington, the master of Aikenside,
+made her believe that he would accede at once to her
+grandfather’s request.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>All that night in her dreams 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 before her the tall, handsome-looking
+man she had so often heard described by Sarah Jones
+after her return from Aikenside, where she had once
+done some plain sewing for the housekeeper. Even
+the next day, when, by her grandparent’s side, Maddy
+knelt reverently in the small church at Honedale, her
+thoughts were more intent upon the to-morrow and
+Aikenside than the sacred words her lips were uttering.
+She knew it was wrong, and with a nervous start tried
+to bring her mind back from decimal fractions to
+what the minister was saying; but Maddy was mortal,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>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 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?</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>But no such thoughts troubled 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 so soothing
+an influence upon him, 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, the possibility 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 it as yet, and so to her that
+April Sunday was long and wearisome. How she did
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>wish she might just look over the geography, by way
+of refreshing her memory, and see exactly how the
+rule for extracting the cubic root did read, but Maddy
+forbore, and read only the Pilgrim’s Progress, the
+Bible, and the book brought from the Sunday-school,
+vainly imagining that by so doing she was earning the
+good she so much desired.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>With the earliest dawn of day she was up, and her
+grandmother heard her repeating to herself much of
+what she fancied Dr. Holbrook might question her
+upon. Even when bending over the wash-tub, 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 fat hands and dimpled arms were busy
+in the suds. Before ten o’clock everything was done,
+the clothes, white as snow-drops in the garden beds,
+were swinging upon 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,
+and Madeline was free to pore over her books until
+called to dinner; she could not eat so great was her
+excitement.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Swiftly the hours flew until it was time to be getting
+ready, when again the short hair was deplored, as
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>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. Only census-takers did that.
+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 on a chair,
+tried to discover how much of her pantalet was
+visible.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I could see splendidly in Mr. Remington’s mirrors.
+Sarah Jones says they come to the floor,” 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 roof 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 class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>and fine linen, she pinned on her little neat plaid
+shawl, and, tying the blue ribbons of her coarse straw
+hat under her chin, glanced once more at the rule for
+the formidable cube root, and then hurried down to
+where her grandfather and old Sorrel were waiting for
+her.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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-bye 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
+Maddy 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 he was seeking was so near, she
+tripped up the walk, and soon stood in the presence of
+not only Dr. Holbrook, but also of Guy Remington.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>
+ <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER III.<br> <span class='c009'>THE EXAMINATION.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='c010'>
+ <img class='drop-capi' src='images/di_035.jpg' width='100' alt=''>
+</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
+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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>How terribly still it was for the time during which
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>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 class='c011'>“Would you be so kind, sir, as to begin? I am
+afraid I shall forget.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Yes, certainly,” and electrified by that young,
+bird-like voice, the sweetest save one he had ever
+heard, Guy took from the pile of books which the
+doctor had arranged upon the table, the only one at all
+appropriate to the occasion, the others being as far
+beyond what was taught in district schools as his
+classical education was beyond Madeline’s common
+one.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>When a boy of ten, or thereabouts, Guy had spent
+a part of a summer with his grandmother in the
+country, and for a week had attended a district school.
+But he was so utterly regardless of rules and restrictions,
+talking aloud and walking about whenever
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>the fancy took him, that he was ignominiously dismissed
+at the end of the week, and that was all the
+experience he had ever had in the kind of school
+Madeline was to teach. But even this helped him a
+little, for remembering that the teacher in Farmingham
+had commenced her operations by sharpening a lead
+pencil, so he now sharpened a similar one, determining
+as far as he could to follow Miss Burr’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 the 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 in the least which
+examined that young girl, Dr. Holbrook or himself.
+Viewing it somewhat in the light of a joke, he rather
+enjoyed it; and as the Farmingham 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 class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>“Madeline Amelia Clyde,” was the meek reply,
+which Guy recorded with a flourish.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“Who gave you this name?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>In all her preconceived ideas of this examination,
+she had never dreamed of being <i>catechised</i>, 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 knew it once, but I did not know it was
+necessary in order to teach school.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Certainly, no; I do not think it is. I beg your
+pardon,” were Guy Remington’s ejaculatory replies, as
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>he glanced from Madeline to the open door of the
+adjoining room, where was visible a <i>slate</i>, on which, in
+large letters, the amused doctor had written “Blockhead.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 the
+pile of books and commenced the examination in
+earnest, asking first her age.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Going on fifteen,” sounded older to Madeline
+than “fourteen and a half,” so “Going on fifteen,”
+was her reply, to which Guy responded, “That is very
+young, Miss Clyde.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Yes, but Mr. Green did not mind. He’s the
+committee-man. He knew how young I was. He
+did not care,” Madeline said, eagerly, her great
+brown eyes growing large with the look of fear
+which came so suddenly into them.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Guy noticed the eyes then, and thought them
+very bright and handsome for brown, but not as
+handsome as if they had been blue, for Lucy Atherstone’s
+were blue; and as he thought of her he was
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>glad she was not obliged to sit there in that doctor’s
+office, and be questioned by him or any
+other man. “Of course, of course,” he said, “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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>Maddy felt the hot blood tingling to her very
+finger tips, for the examination had taken a course
+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 class='c011'>“Perhaps then you can conjugate the verb <i>amo</i>,”
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>Guy said, his manner indicating the doubt he was
+beginning to feel as to her qualifications.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Maddy knew what <i>conjugate</i> 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 <i>must</i> say something, and with a gasp she began:
+“<i>I amo, thou amoest, he amoes. Plural: We
+amo, ye or you amo, they amo.</i>”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“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 does <i>amo</i>
+mean?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>To most men it would not have seemed a very disagreeable
+task, teaching young Madeline Clyde what
+<i>amo</i> meant, 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 <i>amo</i>.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“It is a Latin verb, and means to <i>love</i>,” Guy said,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>with an emphasis on the last word, which would have
+made Maddy blush had she been less anxious and
+frightened.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+“<i>minus</i> into <i>minus</i> could produce <i>plus</i>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“Oh, sir, no more of this. It makes my head so
+dizzy. They don’t teach that in common schools. Ask
+me something I do know.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>“What do they teach? Perhaps you can enlighten
+me?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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 he 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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>her. Still she did not lose a syllable of what was
+said 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,
+anyway?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Then Dr. Holbrook spoke, but to poor, bewildered
+Maddy his words were all a riddle. It was nothing to
+<i>him</i>, whether she knew anything or not,—who was <i>he</i>
+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, especially with the <i>first</i> one. 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 back 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 class='c011'>“He need not write that,” she said, huskily, pointing
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>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 class='c011'>Here 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 class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>left her, and with the doctor repaired to the house,
+where Agnes was impatiently waiting for them, and
+where, in the light badinage which followed, they
+forgot poor little Maddy.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>It was the first keen disappointment she had ever
+known, and it crushed her as completely as many an
+older person has been crushed by heavier calamities.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Disgraced forever 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, except grandpa and grandma? The people
+will say I do not know anything, and I <i>do</i>! I <i>do</i>! 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 class='c011'>There was a low cry for help, succeeded by a fall,
+and while in Mrs. Conner’s parlor Guy Remington and
+Dr. Holbrook were chatting gayly with Agnes, Madeline
+was lying upon the office floor, white and insensible.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 hands with daffodils and early violets,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>made her way at last to the office, the door of which
+was partially open. 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 girl, asking
+if she were asleep, while she lifted the long, fringed
+lashes drooping on the colorless cheek. The dull,
+dead expression of the eyes sent a chill through
+Jessie’s heart, and hurrying to the house she cried,
+“Oh, brother Guy, somebody’s dead in the office, and
+her bonnet is all jammed!”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Scarcely were the words uttered before Guy
+and the doctor both were with Madeline, the former
+holding her in his arms, while he smoothed the short
+hair, thinking 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
+so sorry, but I could not help it. I forgot everything.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>By this time Mrs. Conner and Agnes had come
+into the office, asking in much surprise who the
+stranger was, 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 between them, and
+simply said it was some one who had come for medical
+advice, and it was possible she was in the habit of
+fainting; many people were. Very daintily, Agnes
+held back the skirt of her rich silk as if fearful that it
+might come in contact with Madeline’s plain delaine;
+then, as the scene was not very interesting, she returned
+to the house, bidding Jessie do the same.
+But Jessie refused, choosing to stay by Madeline,
+who by this time had been placed upon the comfortable
+lounge, where she preferred to remain rather
+than be taken to the house, as Guy proposed.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I’m better now, much better,” she said. “Leave
+me, please. I’d rather be alone.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>So they left her with Jessie, who, fascinated by
+the sweet young face, knelt by the lounge, and, laying
+her curly head caressingly against Madeline’s arm,
+aid to her, “Poor girl, you’re sick, and I’m so sorry.
+What makes you sick?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>There was genuine sympathy in that little voice,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>and with a cry as of sudden pain, Maddy clasped the
+child in her arms and burst into a wild fit of weeping,
+which did her a great deal of 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 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; and now I never
+can, and the house must be sold.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“It’s dreadful to be poor!” sighed little Jessie, as
+her fingers threaded the soft, nut-brown hair resting
+in her lap, where Maddy had laid her aching head.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Maddy did not know who this beautiful child was,
+but her sympathy was very sweet, and they talked
+together confidingly, as children will, until Mrs. Agnes’
+voice was heard calling to her little girl that it
+was time to go.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I love you, Maddy, and I mean to tell brother
+Guy all about it,” Jessie said, as she wound her arms
+round Madeline’s neck and kissed her at parting.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>It never occurred to Maddy to ask her name, she
+felt so stupefied and bewildered, and with a responsive
+kiss she sent her away. Then leaning her head
+upon the table, she forgot everything but her own
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>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 enliven her a little.
+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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>There was a call just then for Dr. Holbrook; and
+leaving his office in charge of Tom, he went away,
+feeling slightly uncomfortable whenever he thought
+of the girl, to whom he knew that justice had not
+been done.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I half wish I had examined her myself,” he said.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>“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 and logic. Guy
+is such a stupid; I’ll question her myself 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 class='c011'>Never in his life before had Dr. Holbrook been as
+much interested in any woman 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 he was detained so long 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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“You failed, Maddy?” the old man said, fixing
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>about her feet the warm buffalo robe, for the night
+wind was blowing cool.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Yes, grandpa, I failed.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+before the old man answered back:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“And, Maddy, I failed, too.”</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>
+ <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER IV.<br> <span class='c009'>GRANDPA MARKHAM.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='c010'>
+ <img class='drop-capi' src='images/di_053.jpg' width='100' alt=''>
+</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
+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-gravelled road round to the side
+kitchen door, Mrs. Noah’s special domain, and as
+sacred to her as Betsey Trotwood’s patch of green.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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, she 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
+my turf and gravel?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I—I beg your pardon. I lost my way, I guess,
+there was so many turnin’s. I’m sorry, but a little
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>rain will fetch it right,” grandpa said, glancing ruefully
+at the ruts in the gravel and the marks on the
+turf.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Mrs. Noah was not at heart an unkind woman, and
+something in the benignant expression of the old man’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 weaknesses 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 this afternoon was much smarter than usual,
+grandpa thought 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 she
+was fearfully shocked when Grandpa Markham said:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I come on business with Squire Guy. Are you
+his gran’marm?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>“His gran’marm!” screamed Mrs. Noah fearfully.
+“Bless you, man, Squire Guy, as you call him, is
+twenty-five years old.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>As Grandpa Markham was rather blind he failed to
+see the point, but knew that in some way he had given
+offense.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I beg your pardon, ma’am. I was sure you was
+some kin—maybe an <i>a’nt</i>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>No, she was not even that, but, willing enough to
+let the old man believe her a Remington—she did not
+explain that she was only the housekeeper—but she
+simply said:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“If it’s Mr. Guy you want, I can tell you he is not
+at home, which will save you getting out.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“He’s gone over to Devonshire with the young
+lady, his step-mother. Perhaps you might tell your
+business to me; I know all Mr. Guy’s affairs.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“If I might come in, ma’am, and warm me,” grandpa
+answered, meekly, as through the open door he
+caught glimpses of a cheerful fire. “It’s mighty chilly
+for such as me.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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 money to
+a stranger like him.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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. Maybe I’ll meet him going back, and
+can ask him.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I tell you it won’t be any use. Mr. Guy has no
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>three hundred dollars to throw away,” was Mrs. Noah’s
+sharp rejoinder.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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 take to 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 and the tall lookin’ glass. I’ll take
+off my shoes, if you say so.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>and cream, she enjoyed nothing more than showing
+her master’s handsome house, in which she had lived
+so long that, in a way, she considered it her own.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Conducting him through the wide 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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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
+such 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 good-natured remark,
+“How d’ye do—pretty well to-day?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>There was a familiar look about the cape of the
+camlet cloak worn by the man in the glass, and
+Grandpa Markham’s face turned crimson as the truth
+burst upon him.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“How ’shamed of me Maddy would be,” he thought,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>glancing sidewise at Mrs. Noah, who had witnessed
+the blunder, and was now looking from the window to
+hide her laughter.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 next, and slyly
+touched 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 in the room and the
+grand piano, and came near bowing again to the
+portrait of the first Mrs. Remington, which hung upon
+the wall.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>Mrs. Noah received his thanks graciously and led
+him to the yard, where Sorrel stood waiting for him.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Odd, but clever as the day is long,” was Mrs.
+Noah’s comment, as, after seeing him safe out of the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span>yard, she went back to her vegetable oysters, which
+were in danger of being overdone.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+wagon, he kept steadily on, while Grandpa Markham,
+determining to speak to 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 failed to hear
+the insolent negro’s remark: “Served you right, old
+cove, might have turned out for a gentleman;”
+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 demanded
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>“What he meant by serving an old man so shameful
+a trick, and then insulting him?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 the camlet cloak. Near by 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 class='c011'>“Tell him <i>I</i> want it done at once,” he said,
+authoritatively, as if he knew his name carried weight
+with it; then turning to grandpa, he asked again
+if he were hurt.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“That darkey 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 class='c011'>“No, young man. Don’t be rash. He’ll never do’t
+again; and sprigs like him think they’ve a right to
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>make fun of old codgers like me,” was grandpa’s meek
+expostulation.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Do, pray, Guy, how long must we wait here?”
+Agnes asked, impatiently, leaning out of 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 class='c011'>“What did you say? You have been to Aikenside
+to see me?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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 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
+boots in the hills of sand, he said at last, “Candidly,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>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 expresses
+it, intends building a mill on some property
+which has come, or is coming, into his hands.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“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 <i>friends</i>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>“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
+father 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 trotted 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 class='c011'>“Poor Maddy! I dread tellin’ her the most, she
+was so sure,” grandpa whispered, as he stopped before
+the office, where Maddy waited for him.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>But Maddy’s disappointment was keener than his
+own, and so, after the sorrowful words, “And I failed,
+too,” he tried 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 class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>
+ <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER V.<br> <span class='c009'>THE RESULT.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='c010'>
+ <img class='drop-capi' src='images/di_065.jpg' width='100' alt=''>
+</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
+It was Farmer Green’s new buggy and Farmer
+Green’s bay colt which, three days later,
+stopped before Dr. Holbrook’s office, and
+not the square-boxed wagon, with old Sorrel attached,
+for the former was standing quietly in the chip-yard,
+behind the low red house, while the latter, with his
+nose over the barn-yard fence, was 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 which Grandma Markham had spun
+and woven herself.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>Green, too, shared the feeling, and numerous at first
+were his animadversions against that <i>prig of a Holbrook</i>,
+who was not fit to doctor a <i>cat</i>, much less
+“examine a <i>school-marm</i>.” But when Maddy grew so
+sick 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 class='c011'>“He’s great on fevers,” he said, “and is good on
+curin’ sick folks, I s’pose;” 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, and Farmer Green was sent for the
+physician, to whom he said, with his usual bluntness:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Well, you nigh about killed our little Maddy
+t’other day, when you refused the stifficut, and now
+we want you to cure her.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“Keeps talkin’ about the big books, the Latin and
+the Hebrew, and even 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 class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>The doctor did not try to excuse himself, but hastily
+took down the medicines he thought he might
+need, and stowed them carefully away.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>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>
+
+<hr class='c012'>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 young doctor felt like treading
+upon forbidden ground as he entered the room
+which told so plainly of girlish habits, from the fairy
+slippers hung on a peg, to the fanciful little work-box
+made of cones and acorns. Maddy was asleep, and
+sitting down beside her the doctor asked that the shawl
+which had been pinned before the window to exclude
+the light might be removed, so that he could see her,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>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 much about, if seen. It
+was ghastly pale now, 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 hand lay upon the bed-spread,
+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 fear that 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 class='c011'>“Feel her pulse, doctor; it is faster most than
+you can count,” Grandma Markham whispered; and
+thus entreated, the doctor took the hot, 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 class='c011'>But somehow the act reassured him. All fear of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>Maddy vanished, leaving behind only an intense
+desire to help, if possible, the young girl whose fingers
+seemed to cling round his own as he felt for and found
+the rapid pulse.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“If she would waken,” he said, laying the hand
+softly down and placing his other upon her burning
+forehead.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 failure; 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 he first entered the cottage
+he had been struck with the extreme plainness of the
+furniture, betokening the poverty of its inmates; but
+now he forgot everything except the sick girl, who
+grew more and more restless, and kept talking of him
+and the Latin verb which meant <i>to love</i>, and which
+was not in the grammar.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Guy was a fool and I was a brute,” the doctor
+mattered, as he folded up the bits of paper whose
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>contents he hoped might do much toward saving
+Maddy’s life.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 physician’s mind dwelling upon the little, low
+chamber where Maddy Clyde was lying. As night
+closed in she awoke to partial consciousness, 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 asked
+“Did he smooth my hair and say, ‘poor child?’”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Her grandmother hardly thought he did, though
+she was not in the room all the time. “He had staid
+a long while and was greatly interested,” she said.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Maddy had a vague remembrance of such an
+incident, and in her heart forgave the doctor for his
+rejection, and thought 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, who came in to see her,
+awoke 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>grandpa told her honestly at last that Slocum would
+probably foreclose and the place be sold.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“But never you mind, Maddy,” he said, cheerily,
+when he saw how excited she seemed; “we shall
+manage somehow. I can rent two or three rooms
+cheap of Mr. Green—he told me so—and with old
+Sorrel I can work on the road, and fetch things from
+the depot, and in the winter I can shovel snow, and
+clean roofs. We shall not starve—not a bit of it—so
+don’t you worry, it will make you wus, and I’d
+rather lose the old homestead a thousand times over
+than lose you.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Maddy did not reply, but the great tears poured
+down her flushed cheeks, as she thought of her feeble
+old grandfather working on the road and shoveling
+snow to earn his bread; and the fever, which had
+seemed to be abating, returned with double force, 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 him to see that
+the house was not sold; to tell them she was earning
+thirty-six dollars by teaching school; that <i>Beauty</i>
+should be sold to save their dear old home. All this
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>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 class='c011'>If the doctor had hated himself the previous day
+when he rode 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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“Put anybody you like in my place,” he said;
+“anybody but Guy Remington. Don’t, <i>for thunder’s
+sake</i>, take him.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+clearly about anything, save Madeline Clyde’s
+case; and during the next few weeks his other patients
+waited many times in vain for his coming, while
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>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 to Devonshire to say that as <i>Jessie</i> 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 arm-chair, Guy waited until he came.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“Guy,” and the doctor came closely to him,
+whispering huskily, “you and I are murderers in the
+first degree, and both deserve to be hung. Do you
+remember that Madeline Clyde whom you insulted
+with your logic, and the Catechism, 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>it. I’d give it to him out and out. But there’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, I get terribly mixed up when
+I hear her talk, and my heart thumps like a triphammer.
+That’s the reason I have not been up to
+Aikenside. I wouldn’t leave Maddy so long as there
+was hope, but there is none now. I did not tell them
+this morning. I couldn’t make that poor couple feel
+worse than they were 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 <i>her</i> die—I don’t like to see anybody die,
+but <i>her</i>, 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 class='c011'>Here the doctor stopped, wholly out of breath,
+while Guy for a moment sat without speaking a word.
+Jessie, in his hearing, had told her mother what the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>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 matter as it
+was, 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 class='c011'>“Doc,” he said, laying his hand on the doctor’s
+arm, “I am the <i>old hunks</i>, 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 class='c011'>“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 <i>any way</i>, 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 class='c011'>Guy didn’t know very much experimentally about
+praying, and so he did not respond, but he thought of
+Lucy Atherstone, whose life was one act of prayer and
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>praise, and he wished <i>she</i> 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. I cannot endure to sit here doing
+nothing to make amends. It will look queer, 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
+mother, forgetting that <i>she</i> was once a teacher, is disgusted.
+Yes, I’ll take Jessie with me, but <i>you</i> 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 is not <i>strychnine</i>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Contrary to Guy’s expectations, Agnes did not
+refuse to let Jessie go for a ride, 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 class='c011'>“I did like her so much that day,” she said, “and
+one looked so sorry, too. It’s terrible to die!”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Then she plied Guy with questions, concerning
+Maddy’s probable future. “Would she go to heaven,
+<i>sure</i>?” and when Guy answered at random, “<i>Yes</i>,”
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>she asked, “<i>How</i> did he <i>know</i>? Had he heard that
+Maddy was that kind of <i>good</i> which lets people 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 exactly
+know what, I wish I did.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Guy drew her closer to him, but to that childish
+yearning for knowledge he could not respond, so he
+said:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Who taught you all this, little one?—not your
+mother, surely.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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, who sometimes
+keeps her eyes open in church when she is on her
+knees, and looks at the bonnets near us. Do you
+pray, brother Guy?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>The question startled the young man, who did not
+know what to answer, and who was glad that 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 class='c011'>They would go to the village, Guy said, hoping
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>that the doctor might be persuaded to accompany
+them. 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
+the point of mounting his horse and galloping off
+alone, when Guy drove up with Jessie. It was five
+miles from Devonshire to Honedale, and when they
+reached a hill which lay half way 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 class='c011'>It was the Devonshire 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 task was
+nearly done, and it only remained for him to strike
+the age, and tell how many years the departed one
+had numbered.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine,
+ten;” Jessie counted aloud, while every stroke fell
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>like a heavy blow upon the hearts of the young
+men, who a few weeks ago did not know that
+Maddy Clyde had ever had existence.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>How long it seemed before another stroke, and
+Guy was beginning to hope they had heard the last
+when again the sound came floating on the air,
+and Dr. Holbrook’s lip quivered as <i>he</i> now counted
+aloud, “one, two, three, four, five.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>That was all; the bell stopped; and vain were
+all their listenings to catch another sound. Fifteen
+years only had passed over the form now forever
+still.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“She was fifteen,” Guy whispered, remembering
+distinctly to have heard that number from Maddy
+herself.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>Jessie did not speak but 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 class='c011'>“Hush, Jessie; don’t ask such questions,” Guy
+said; then turning to his companion, he continued:
+“We’ll go just the same. I will do what I can
+for the old man;” and so the carriage drove on,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>down the hill, across the meadow land, and passed
+a low-roofed house, whose walls inclosed the stiffened
+form of the boy for whom the bell had
+tolled, and who had been the patient of another
+than Dr. Holbrook.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Maddy was not dead, but the paroxysm of restlessness
+had passed, and she lay now in a heavy
+sleep so nearly resembling death that those who
+watched by her 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 way for him to pass to Maddy’s
+bedside. Guy preferred waiting outside 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 class='c011'>“She is dying, doctor,” said one of the women;
+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 minutes.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“There are too many here,” he said. “She
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>needs the air you are breathing,” and in his authoritative
+way he cleared the crowded room of
+the mistaken friends who were unwittingly breathing
+up Maddy’s very life.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>The grandparents and Jessie he suffered to remain,
+and sitting down by Maddy he 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 lethargy from Maddy’s brain,
+and waking her to 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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“Where am I now? Have I never come home,
+and is this Dr. Holbrook’s office?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“No, no; it’s home, your home, and you are getting
+well,” Jessie cried, bending over the bewildered
+girl. “Dr. Holbrook has cursed you, and Guy is here,
+and I, and——”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Hush, you disturb her,” the doctor said, gently
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>pushing Jessie away, and himself asking Maddy how
+she felt.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>She did not recognize him. She only had a vague
+idea that he might be <i>some</i> doctor, but not Dr. Holbrook;
+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 aged disciple’s
+every sigh, had another good in store for him,
+ordering it so that both should come together, just as
+the two disappointments had come hand in hand.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>to go back to the day Guy had first met grandpa,
+and refused his application for money.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 <i>not</i> be sold.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“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 had braved the hissing
+flame, and scaling the tottering wall, had dragged out
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>one who, until that hour, was to him an utter
+stranger.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Pushing back his snowy hair, Grandfather Markham
+showed upon his temple a long white scar of
+a wound received 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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>Guy looked keenly now at the man whose besetting
+sin was pride, and as he saw 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 class='c011'>Meantime for Maddy Dr. Holbrook had prescribed
+perfect quiet, bidding them darken the windows from
+which the shade had been removed, and ordering all
+save the grandmother to leave the room and let the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span>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, 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 <i>Guy</i>, I know—he’s so good.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 pleasure in knowing
+that Guy Remington from Aikenside was interested
+in her, and had brought his sister to see her.
+Winding her arms around Jessie’s neck, she kissed
+the soft, warm cheek, and said, “You’ll come again, I
+hope.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Yes, every day, if mamma will let me. I don’t
+mind it a bit, if you are poor.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Come, come,” and Dr. Holbrook, who had all the
+while been standing near, took Jessie by the arm and
+led her out to where Guy was waiting for her.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>
+ <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER VI.<br> <span class='c009'>CONVALESCENCE.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='c010'>
+ <img class='drop-capi' src='images/di_086.jpg' width='100' alt=''>
+</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
+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 flown into a passion when told
+that Jessie had been exposed to fever, of which she
+had a great dread.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 on her
+white, round arm.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I’ll be answerable for any disease Jessie caught
+at Mr. Markham’s,” the doctor replied:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“At Mr. Who’s? What did you call him?”
+Agnes asked quickly, the bright color on her cheek
+fading as the doctor replied:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Markham—an old man who lives in Honedale.
+You never knew him, of course.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Certainly not—how could I?” Agnes replied,
+as she took her seat at the tea-table. But her
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>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 class='c011'>“What was the girl’s name?” she asked; “the
+one you went to see?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Maddy, mother—Madeline Clyde. She’s so pretty.
+I’m going to see her again. May I?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Agnes did not reply directly, but continued to
+question the child with regard to the cottage which
+Jessie thought so funny, slanting way 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 class='c011'>“Yes, yes, I know,” Agnes said at last, impatiently,
+for she was tired of hearing of the cottage
+whose humble exterior and interior she knew so much
+better than Jessie herself.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>But this was not to be divulged; for surely the
+haughty Agnes Remington, 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, I do
+not wish you to associate with such people;” and
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>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 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 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 class='c011'>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 her cheek, and the brightness to her
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>She had been 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 waken her; but
+for a long time, as it seemed to Grandma Markham,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>who stood a 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 all the other patients on his
+list. Dr. Holbrook was a handsome man, a thorough
+scholar, and a most skillful physician; but 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 when, on his return from
+Cambridge, he was about starting to visit Maddy
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span>again, he puzzled his brains until they ached with
+wondering what he could do to give her a pleasant
+surprise and show that he was not so formidable
+a personage as her past experience might lead her
+to think.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 drove up,
+bearing in his hand a most exquisite bouquet, whose
+fragrance filled the office at once, and whose beauty
+elicited an exclamation of delight even from the
+matter-of-fact Dr. Holbrook.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 will give them to you, and you
+can present them as if coming from yourself.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>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 class='c011'>For a moment Guy regarded his friend attentively,
+noticing that extra care had been taken with
+his toilet, that the collar was fresh from the laundry,
+and the new cravat tied in a most unexceptionable
+manner, instead of being twisted in a hard knot,
+with the ends looking as if they had been chewed.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Doc,” he said, when his survey was completed,
+“how old are you—twenty-six or twenty-seven?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Just your age;—why?” and the doctor looked up
+with an expression so wholly innocent of Guy’s real
+meaning, that the latter, instead of telling why, replied:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Oh! nothing; only I was wondering if you
+would do to be my father. Agnes, I verily believe
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>is more than half in love with you; but, on the
+whole, I should not like to be your son; so I guess
+you’d better take some one younger—say <i>Jessie</i>.
+You are only eighteen years her senior.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Innocent as the new-born babe,” was Guy’s mental
+comment, as he congratulated himself on his larger
+and more varied experience.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>And truly Dr. Holbrook <i>was</i> as simple-hearted as
+a child, and never dreamed 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>
+
+<hr class='c012'>
+
+<p class='c011'>Maddy had gained rapidly during 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>permitted to receive him in the rocking-chair, instead
+of lying there in bed; and when this plan was
+vetoed as utterly impossible, she asked anxiously:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“And must I see him in this night-gown! Can’t
+I have on my pink gingham wrapper?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Hitherto Maddy had been too sick to care at
+all about her personal appearance, but it was different
+now; and thoughts of meeting again the
+handsome, stylish-looking man, whom she fully believed
+to be Dr. Holbrook, made her rather nervous.
+Dim remembrances she had of some one
+gliding in and about the room, and when the pain
+and noise in her head was in its highest, a hand
+large and cool had been laid upon her temples,
+quieting the throbbing, 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 wish to be unkind. Yes, I forgive him;
+for I really was very stupid that afternoon.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>And so, in a most forgiving frame of mind,
+Maddy submitted to the night dress which grandma
+brought in place of the gingham wrapper, and
+which became her well, with its daintily-crimped
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span>ruffles about the neck and wrists, which had grown
+so small that Maddy sighed to see how loose they
+were as her grandmother buttoned together the wristbands.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I have been very sick,” she said. “Are my
+cheeks as thin as my arms?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>From Mrs. Markham, who met him in the door,
+he learned how much better Maddy was; and also
+how, as grandma expressed it, “She had been reckoning
+on this visit, making herself all a sweat about it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Suddenly the doctor felt all his old dread of
+Maddy Clyde returning. Why should she worry
+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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span>she would stay out of the room, 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 in by himself.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 better if he treated
+her just as he would Jessie, the doctor confronted
+her at once, and asked:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“How is my little patient to-day?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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; 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>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 class='c011'>“Poor child, are you afraid of me—the doctor,—Dr.
+Holbrook?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Maddy did not try to withdraw her hand, but,
+raising her eyes, swimming in tears, to his face, she
+stammered out:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“What does it mean, and where is he—the one
+who—asked me—those dreadful questions? I thought
+that was Dr. Holbrook.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>Maddy was disappointed, and it took her some
+time to rally sufficiently to convince the doctor that
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>she was not delirious, 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 class='c011'>“You like flowers, I know, and these are for you.
+I——”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Oh! thank you, thank you, doctor: I am so glad.
+I love them so much, and you <i>are</i> 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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“I am glad you like them, Miss Clyde, and Mr.
+Remington will be glad too. <i>He</i> sent them to you
+from his conservatory.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“Yes, Jessie’s brother. He came here with her
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>once. He is interested in you, and brought these
+down this morning to my office.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“It was Jessie, I guess, who sent them,” Maddy
+suggested, but the doctor persisted that it was Guy.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“He wished me to present them with his compliments.
+He thought they might please you.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>The doctor opened his lips to tell her she had seen
+him, but changed his mind before the words were uttered.
+She might not think so well of Guy, he
+thought, and there was no harm in withholding the
+truth.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>So Maddy had no suspicion that the face she had
+thought of so much belonged to Guy Remington.
+She had never seen him, of course; but she hoped she
+should 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 class='c011'>“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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>word to him. He is very rich, and handsome, and
+splendid, isn’t he?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Yes, Guy’s rich and handsome, and everybody
+likes him. We were in college together.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“Perhaps I’ll take 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 class='c011'>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, he knew, by talking to her so much; but somehow
+it was very delightful there in that sick-room,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>with the summer sunshine stealing through the window
+and falling upon the brown head resting on the
+pillows. Once he fixed the 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 wan’t in a
+hurry, she’d leave him with Maddy a spell, as there
+were a few chores she must do.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>The doctor knew that at least a dozen people were
+waiting for him; but still he was in no hurry, he said,
+and so for half an hour longer he sat there talking of
+<i>Guy</i>, and <i>Jessie</i>, and <i>Aikenside</i>, 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 wore buff, or brown, or tan
+color; but he knew all about Maddy’s dress, and
+thought the dainty frill around her slender throat the
+prettiest thing that he had ever seen. At last he
+really must go, and, bidding Maddy good-bye, he
+started on his daily round of visits.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>most becoming attire, 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 class='c011'>“I have seen Maddy Clyde. She asked for you,
+and why you do not come to see her, as you promised.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Mother won’t let me,” Jessie answered. “She says
+they are not fit associates for a Remington.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>She was improving rapidly, the doctor said, adding,
+“You ought to have seen her delight when I
+gave her the bouquet. She wished me to thank you
+for her.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>“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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“Please say in your report that the worst thing
+about this <i>Clyde girl</i> is that she aspires to be a
+teacher, and possibly a <i>governess</i>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>There was an emphasis on the last word which
+silenced Agnes and set her to beating her French
+boot on the carpet; while Guy, turning back to the
+doctor, replied to his remark:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“She was pleased, then?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Yes; she must be vastly fond of flowers, though
+I sometimes fancied that 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 a second Paradise, and
+asked innumerable questions about you and Jessie,
+too.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Did she honor <i>me</i> with an inquiry?” Agnes
+asked, her tone indicative of sarcasm, though she was
+greatly interested as well as relieved by the reply.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>“Yes; she said she had heard that Jessie’s mother
+was a beautiful woman, and asked if you were not
+born in England.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>Guy did not go down to Honedale—but fruit and
+flowers, and 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 class='c011'>It was as follows:</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“<span class='sc'>Dear Maddy</span>:</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I think you have 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span><i>first</i> ma is dead. She was Guy’s mother, and my papa
+was ever so old. 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?</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“Yours, respectfully,</div>
+ <div class='line in8'>“<span class='sc'>Jessie Agnes Remington</span>.</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>“P. S.—I am going to put this in just for fun,
+right among the buds, where you must look for it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This note Maddy read and re-read until she knew
+it by heart, especially 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 notice the
+clause, “and the doctor too.” His attentions and
+likings 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 motive-power did not
+lie deeper than a great friendliness for one who had
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>been instrumental in saving her life. They had talked
+over the matter of her examination more than once,
+the doctor blaming himself more than was necessary
+for his ignorance as to what was required of a
+teacher; but when she asked <i>who</i> was his proxy, he
+always answered evasively:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“A friend from Boston.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>And this he did to shield Guy, who he knew was
+enshrined in the little maiden’s heart as a paragon of
+all excellence.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>
+ <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER VII.<br> <span class='c009'>THE DRIVE.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='c010'>
+ <img class='drop-capi' src='images/di_106.jpg' width='100' alt=''>
+</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
+Latterly the doctor had taken to driving
+in his buggy, and when Maddy was strong
+enough he took her with him one day,
+and with his own hands adjusted the shawl which
+grandma wrapped around her, and tied the white sun-bonnet
+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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>The doctor, however, did not so construe it. He
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>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
+to tell Maddy Clyde about Lucy Atherstone, who, in
+all probability, would one day come to Aikenside as
+its mistress.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Yes, Guy will undoubtedly marry,” he began, as
+just as over the top of the 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 class='c011'>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, and shook back her wealth of curls
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>with the air and manner of a young, coquettish
+girl.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Oh, what a handsome lady! Who is she?”
+Maddy asked, turning to look after the carriage now
+swiftly descending the hill.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“That is Jessie’s mother, Mrs. Agnes Remington,”
+the doctor replied. “She’ll feel flattered with
+your compliment.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“I wonder if I’ll ever wear a bracelet like that?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>“And when will that be?” the doctor asked.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“Oh, I’m so sorry,” and Maddy’s eyes expressed
+all the sorrow she professed to feel. “You ought to
+be, now you are so old.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>The doctor colored crimson, and stopping his horse
+under the dim shadow of a maple in a little hollow, he
+said:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I’m not so very old, Maddy; only twelve years
+older than yourself; and Agnes’s husband was more
+than twenty-five years <i>her</i> senior.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>The doctor did not know why he dragged that last
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>in, when it had nothing whatever to do with their
+conversation; but as the most trivial thing often leads
+to great results, so 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 twelve 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 class='c011'>“Oh, oh! over twenty-five years—that’s dreadful!
+She must be glad he’s dead. I could never marry a
+man more than five years older than I am.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>Wholly unsuspicious of the wild storm beating in
+his heart, Maddy untied her white sun-bonnet, and,
+taking it in her lap, smoothed back her soft hair, saying
+with a long breath: “Oh! I’m so hot;” and then,
+as if just remembering his question, she 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>eyes full upon the doctor, who was wiping from his
+lips the great drops of water, induced not so much by
+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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“Poor, was she?” Maddy rejoined. “Then maybe
+Mr. Guy will some day marry a poor girl.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Again the doctor thought to tell her of Lucy
+Atherstone, but he did not, and as he saw that Maddy
+was growing tired and needed to be at home, he
+turned his horse in the direction of the cottage.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Perhaps you’ll sometimes 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 class='c011'>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,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>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 arm-chair was whispering over his weekly paper.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Did you meet a grand lady in a carriage?”
+grandma asked, as Maddy sat down beside her.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Yes; and Dr. Holbrook said it was Mrs. Remington,
+from Aikenside, Mr. Guy’s step-mother, and
+that she was more than twenty-five 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 class='c011'>“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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>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 uncle Joseph,
+who’s been in the hospital at Worcester goin’ on nine
+years.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“It <i>was</i>!” 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 years been an inmate of a
+mad-house.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Tell me about it,” Maddy continued, bringing a
+pillow, and lying down upon the faded lounge beneath
+the window.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“There is no great to tell, only he was many years
+younger than I. He’s only forty-one now, and was
+several 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>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’ the little we do. That’s what ’tis
+about your uncle Joseph, and I warn all young girls
+not to think too much of nobody. They are bound to
+get sick of ’em, and it makes dreadful work.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>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 <i>Sarah</i>. Perhaps that was the
+name of his treacherous betrothed. And she asked
+her grandmother if it were not so.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Yes, Sarah Morris was her name, and her face
+was handsome as a doll,” grandma replied; and, wondering
+if she was as beautiful as Jessie, or Jessie’s
+mother, Maddy went back to her reveries of the poor
+maniac in the asylum, whom Sarah Morris had
+wronged so cruelly.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>
+ <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER VIII.<br> <span class='c009'>SHADOWINGS OF WHAT WAS TO BE.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='c010'>
+ <img class='drop-capi' src='images/di_116.jpg' width='100' alt=''>
+</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
+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 becoming toilet,
+reclined languidly upon the 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 class='c011'>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 subject. When his pretty step-mother 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>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. He knew, too, that Agnes would rather stay
+there, for her income did not warrant as luxurious a
+home as he could give her, and by remaining at Aikenside
+during the warmer season she could afford to pass
+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 class='c011'>As if divining his thoughts Agnes said to him
+rather abruptly:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Guy, Ellen Laurie writes me that they are all
+going to Saratoga for a time, and then to Newport,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>and she wishes I would join then. Do you think I can
+afford it?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes, that’s splendid, and I’ll stay here while
+you are gone; 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 class='c011'>Smoothing her bright hair and pinching her soft
+cheek, Guy replied:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“That means, I suppose, that I can afford it, don’t
+it? but I, too, was thinking just now about your
+staying here, where you really do improve.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Then turning to Agnes he made some inquiries as
+to the plans proposed by the Lauries, ascertaining
+that Agnes’s plan was that 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 class='c011'>Guy could not find much pleasure in escorting
+Agnes to a fashionable watering-place, particularly as
+he was 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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 sun-bonnet and
+the Scotch plaid shawl she had seen beside him when
+driving 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 it
+was so, 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 <i>she</i> was. But they did not; she was quite
+sure of that; and so she had ventured to pass their
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>door, her heart throbbing with a strange sensation as
+the old way-marks came in view, way-marks 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 class='c011'>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?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Guy looked up quickly, wondering where Agnes
+could have seen the doctor, who, conscious of a sudden
+pang, answered naturally:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“Oh, yes; that patient about whom Jessie has
+gone mad. I am glad to have seen her.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>There was unmistakable irony in her voice now,
+and turning from her to Guy, the doctor continued:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“Jessie!” said Agnes and Guy, simultaneously,
+while the doctor laughingly pulled one of her long,
+black curls.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Yes, I could do that. I have thought of it, but
+they might not accept it, as they are proud as well as
+poor.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Mr. Markham has no one to care for but his wife
+and this Madeline, has he?” Agnes asked; and the
+doctor replied:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I did not suppose so until a few days since, when
+I learned from a Mr. Green that Mrs. Markham’s
+youngest and only brother has been an inmate of a
+lunatic asylum for years; and that though they cannot
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>pay his expenses, they do what they can toward
+providing him with comforts.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“Is insanity hereditary in this family?” Guy asked.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Agnes’s cheek was very white, though her face was
+turned 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 existed.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>For a moment there was silence in the room, and
+then Guy told the doctor of what Agnes and himself
+were speaking when he arrived.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I suppose it’s of no use asking you to join us for
+a week or so.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“There was not,” the doctor said. “His patients
+needed him and he must stay at home.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 awoke Mrs. Agnes at once from her
+reverie.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Guy,” she exclaimed, “are you crazy? That
+child Jessie’s governess! No, indeed! I shall have
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>a teacher from Boston—one whose manners and style
+are unexceptionable.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“Oh, it will be splendid! Can she come to-morrow?
+I sha’n’t care how long you are gone if I can
+have Maddy here, and doctor will come up every day,
+will you not?” and the soft eyes looked up pleadingly
+into the doctor’s face.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“It is not settled yet that Maddy comes,” the doctor
+replied; adding, as an answer to Guy’s question:
+“If Agnes were willing, I do not think you could do
+better than secure Miss Clyde’s services. Two children
+will thus be happy, for Maddy, as I have told
+you, thinks Aikenside must be a little lower than Paradise.
+I shall be happy to open negotiations, if you say
+so.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I’ll ride down and let you know to-morrow,” Guy
+said. “These domestic matters, where there is a difference
+of opinion, are better discussed alone,” and
+he turned good-humoredly toward Agnes, who knew
+it was useless to oppose him then.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span>But she did oppose him 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 his end without further altercation.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>Accordingly, next morning, as Guy was in his library
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>reading his papers, she went to him, and folding
+her white hands upon his shoulder, said very prettily:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I was real cross last night, and let my foolish
+pride get the ascendency. But I have reconsidered the
+matter, and am willing for this Miss Clyde to come,
+provided you still think it best.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“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 part of
+the autumn, and that she, Jessie’s mother, wrote to
+ask if for the sum of one dollar per week she was willing
+to come to Aikenside as governess, or waiting-maid.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Or <i>what</i>?” Guy asked, as she read to him what
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>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. Write another note;
+substitute companion for waiting-maid, and offer her
+three dollars per week, instead of one.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 ‘round besides, she thought three
+dollars far too much. But Guy had commanded, and
+she generally obeyed him, so she wrote another note,
+which he approved, and, sealing it up, sent it by a
+servant to Madeline.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>
+ <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER IX.<br> <span class='c009'>THE DECISION.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='c010'>
+ <img class='drop-capi' src='images/di_127.jpg' width='100' alt=''>
+</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
+The reception of Agnes’s 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 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 beautiful lawn
+almost large enough to be called a park, with its
+shaded paths and winding walks, its flowers and vines,
+its fountains and statuary, its fish-pond and grove, its
+airy rooms, its wide 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,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>its bay-windows and long piazzas, its sweet-faced,
+dark-haired Jessie, and its manly, noble Guy.
+Only the image of Agnes, flashing in silk and diamonds,
+was a flaw in the picture. 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 enter upon her duties as
+teacher to little Jessie.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>to transplant her to another soil, while, hidden in his
+heart, 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 should
+take poor old deaf Mary Barnes, who complained that
+he staid so long with the child at “Gran’ther Markham’s”
+as to have but a moment to spare for her.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>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 interested that in his
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>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 the 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 class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>
+ <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER X.<br> <span class='c009'>AT AIKENSIDE.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='c010'>
+ <img class='drop-capi' src='images/di_131.jpg' width='100' alt=''>
+</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
+It was a long, tiresome ride for grandpa,
+from Honedale to Aikenside, and 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 class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>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 class='c011'>“Grandpa, do you think I could ever be ashamed
+of you and grandma?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“That may be, but I shan’t be ashamed of <i>you</i>.
+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 class='c011'>“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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>wipe those blue cups again, and how she should probably
+feel when she did.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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-byes and received
+her grandfather’s blessing.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 flowing, but not until
+the dear old home had disappeared, and she was some
+distance on the road to Aikenside.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I wonder how I shall like Mrs. Remington and
+Mr. Guy?” was the first remark she made.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“You’ll not see them immediately. They left this
+morning for Saratoga,” the doctor replied.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Left! Mr. Guy gone?” Maddy repeated, in a disappointed
+tone.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Are you very sorry?” the doctor asked, and
+Maddy replied:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>“I did want to see him once; you know I never
+have.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 roused
+him by broaching the subject of the unpaid bill, asking
+if he’d please not trouble grandpa, but wait until she
+could pay it.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Perhaps it’s wrong asking it when you were so
+good, but if you will only take me for payment,” and
+Maddy’s soft brown eyes were lifted to his face.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Yes, Maddy, I’ll take <i>you</i> for payment,” the
+doctor said, smiling, half seriously, as his eyes rested
+fondly upon her.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>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. She was too young, and
+he would 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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>In her excitement Maddy had risen, and with one
+band resting on the doctor’s shoulder, was looking
+round 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 school-girl 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 class='c011'>“Mother wanted you to sleep the other side of the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>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 Muddy stopped her,
+saying:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I have but one;—that’s all.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“I’ve been to dinner.” And Maddy looked up in
+some surprise.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 came, and the table is all
+set out so nicely for two. Can you carve, and do you
+like green turtle soup?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Maddy was bewildered, but managed to reply that
+she could not carve, that she never saw any green
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>turtle soup, and that she supposed she should wear to
+dinner the dress she had on.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Why, we always change, even Mrs. Noah,” Jessie
+exclaimed, bending over the open trunk, and examining
+its contents.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Two calicoes, a blue muslin, a gingham, and a 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 class='c011'>Maddy had seen the look Jessie gave the 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 class='c011'>“And grandma said they were so nice, too, and
+did them up so carefully,” she said, her lip beginning
+to quiver, and her eyes filling with tears,
+thoughts of home came rushing over her.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+the hall, and as the doctor knew a book was to have
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>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 class='c011'>“Homesick so soon?” he said, advancing to her
+side, and then, amid a torrent of tears, the whole came
+out.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 <i>carve</i>—she could <i>not</i> eat <i>mud-turtle</i> 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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“That!” and Maddy looked confounded. “Why
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>grandma never lets me wear that, except Sunday;
+that’s my very best dress.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“But what shall 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 class='c011'>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 ecstacies
+over the blue muslin, which was becoming to Maddy
+and greatly enhanced her girlish beauty. The tear-stains
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>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
+neck, and then she was ready for that terrible ordeal,
+her first dinner at Aikenside. The doctor was going
+to stay, and this revived her somewhat.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“You must come to the housekeeper’s room and
+see her first,” Jessie said, and with a beating heart and
+brain bewildered by the elegant furniture which met
+her at every turn, Maddy followed to where the
+dreaded Mrs. Noah, in rustling black silk and a thread
+lace collar, sat sewing, and greatly enjoying the leisure
+she had in her master’s absence.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Mrs. Noah knew who Maddy was, and remembered
+that the old man had said 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, and 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 supposed 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>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 class='c011'>“I am glad to see you, Miss Clyde,” she said;
+“very glad.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Maddy’s lip quivered a little and her voice shook
+as she replied:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Please call me Maddy. They do at home, and I
+sha’n’t be quite so—so——”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 champion, at least, at
+Aikenside.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>The dinner was a success, so far as Maddy was
+concerned. Not a single mistake did she make,
+though her cheeks burned painfully as she felt the
+eyes of the polite waiter fixed so often upon her face,
+and fancied he might be laughing at her. But he was
+not, and thanks to the kind-hearted Guy, he thought
+of her only with respect, as one who was his superior
+and must be treated accordingly. Knowing how different
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>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 her and Jessie’s command, and Paul was
+never to refuse 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 watched him
+with a swelling heart until he was lost to view in the
+deepening twilight.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>Feeling that she must be homesick, Mrs. Noah suggested
+that she try the fine piano in the little music
+room.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Maybe you can’t play, but you can drum ‘Days
+of Absence,’ as most girls do,” and opening the piano
+she bade Maddy “thump as long as she liked.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 ear 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>was that she could play now a great deal better than
+herself.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 as Jessie.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 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 she improved it well, 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 class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>while with childish 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 <i>him</i>, and
+what he would think of <i>her</i>.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>
+ <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XI.<br> <span class='c009'>GUY AT HOME.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='c010'>
+ <img class='drop-capi' src='images/di_146.jpg' width='100' alt=''>
+</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
+Saturday came at last, a balmy September
+day, when all nature seemed conspiring
+to welcome the travelers for whom so extensive
+preparations had been made 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 to her mother, which would leave her
+next to Guy, where he could see every movement she
+made. Would he think her awkward, or would he, as
+he hoped, be so much absorbed with the doctor as not
+to notice her? Suppose she should drop her fork, or
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>upset one of those queer looking goblets on the sideboard,
+which looked 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 really goblets, 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 class='c011'>“Oh, must <i>I</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 class='c011'>Six o’clock came, but no travelers. Then an hour
+went by, and there came a telegram that the cars had
+run off the track, and Guy would not probably arrive
+until late in the night, if indeed he did till morning.
+Greatly disappointed, the doctor after dinner took his
+leave, telling the girls they better not sit up. Consequently,
+at a late hour they both retired, sleeping so
+soundly as not to hear 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>impatient one which sounded as if its owner were
+tired and cross.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Agnes and Guy had come. As a whole, Agnes’s
+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 one else did, she should accept that
+other one, 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 was good,
+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 on the morning of her 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 class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>“He has visited us ever so much, staying ever so
+long. I know Maddy likes him; <i>I</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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“Flora,” she said, “I see you are arranging the
+table for four. Have we company?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“But, ma’am,” and Flora hesitated, “she’s very
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>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 as good as anybody.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“May I ask him,” Flora persisted, her hand still on
+the plate.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>Meantime, Maddy had put on her prettiest delaine,
+tied her little dainty white 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span>crimsoned her cheek, while her heart throbbed wildly
+beneath the rich morning-dress. Doctor 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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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
+<i>put down</i> 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 class='c011'>“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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span>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 class='c011'>“Yes—no—I don’t know. Oh, pray tell me what
+you mean, what I am to do!” Maddy gasped her face
+white as ashes, and her eyes wearing as yet only a
+scared, uncertain look.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>With little, graceful tosses of the head, which set
+in motion every one of the brown curls, Mrs. Agnes
+replied:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>cannot be with Jessie all the while, you will, when
+your duties as governess are over, sit in your own
+room, or the school-room, or walk in the back yard,
+just as the higher servants do—such as Mrs. Noah and
+the seamstress, 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 class='c011'>When Mrs. Agnes had finished, 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, and her cheeks burned
+at the degradation, and 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 class='c011'>Once alone, the torrent burst forth, and burying
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>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, and
+accidentally wandering that way, stumbled 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 the stranger 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 as he lifted her from
+the grass and led her to a rustic seat at no great distance
+from them.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Now, tell me why you are crying so?” he said,
+brushing from her apron the spot of dirt which had
+settled upon it. “Are you homesick?” he continued,
+and then Maddy burst out crying harder than before.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>She forgot that he was a stranger, forgot everything
+except that he sympathized with her.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Oh, sir,” she sobbed, “I was <i>so</i> 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 sit with them and eat with them till
+she told me so. Oh, dear, dear!” and choked with
+tears, Maddy stopped a moment to take breath.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“Go on!” so sternly, that she started, and replied:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I know you are angry with me and I ought not to
+have told you.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I am not angry—not at you, at least—go on,” was
+Guy’s reply, and Maddy continued:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>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 <i>nigger</i> 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 class='c011'>“And how is it now?” Guy asked, wondering who
+in the world she thought he was. “How is it now?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I suppose it’s wicked to feel such things on Sunday,
+but, somehow, what she said keeps making me so
+bad that I <i>know</i> I hate <i>her</i>, and I <i>guess</i> I hate Mr.
+Guy!”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>This was Maddy’s answer, spoken deliberately,
+while she looked up at the young man, who with a
+comical expression about his mouth, answered her:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“<i>I</i> am Mr. Guy.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“<span class='sc'>You, you!</span> Oh, I can’t bear it! I shall die!”
+and Maddy sprang up as quickly as if feeling an electric
+shock.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>But Guy’s arm was interposed to stop her, and held
+her back, while he asked where she was going.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 did once;
+but now, oh! what do you think of me?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Nothing bad, I assure you,” Guy said, still holding
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span>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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>They went to the house together, but separated in
+the hall; Maddy going 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 class='c011'>“Perhaps you have forgotten that you were once a
+school teacher yourself,” he said, “and before that
+time mercy knows what you were—<i>a hired girl</i>, perhaps;
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span>your present airs would seem to warrant as
+much!”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“Pray, Guy, do not be so angry; I know I am
+foolish about some things, and proud people who
+‘come up’ 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 round; 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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“Guy—jealousy! I jealous of that child?” and
+Agnes’s voice was expressive of the utmost consternation.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Yes, jealous of that child; you think that
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>because the doctor has been kind to her, perhaps
+he wants her sometime for his wife. I hope he does;
+I mean to help it on; I’ll tell him to marry 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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span>governesses were treated by their employers, but to
+have <i>Agnes</i> 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 class='c011'>“Yes, call Miss Clyde; tell her I sent for her,”
+was Guy’s answer, and Mrs. Noah repaired to Maddy’s
+room, finding her still sobbing bitterly.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“But I am not to eat with them,” Maddy began,
+when Mrs. Noah stopped her by explaining that Guy
+ruled that house, and Agnes had been completely
+routed.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>This did not quiet Maddy particularly, and her
+heart beat painfully as she descended to the parlor,
+where Guy was walking up and down.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Come, Miss Clyde, Jessie is nearly famished,” he
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>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, as Mrs. Remington
+had a headache.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 to 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 the young
+girl.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 on the following
+morning, just after breakfast was over, she summoned
+courage to ask Mr. Guy if she might talk with him.
+Leading the way to his library, he bade her sit down,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>while he took the chair opposite, and then waited for
+her to commence.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Maddy was afraid of Guy. He did not seem like
+Dr. Holbrook. He was haughtier in his manner, 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 class='c011'>“Mr. Remington, I can’t stay here after all that
+has happened. It would not be pleasant for me or
+Mrs. Remington, 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 wish you to like me.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>pretty, he thought, and 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 her
+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 seen it in all
+its bearings and triumphal result.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I am much obliged for your liking me,” he said,
+a little mischievously. “You surely have not much
+reason to do so when you recall the incidents of our
+first interview. Maddy—Miss Clyde, I mean—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 class='c011'>Then Guy explained to her briefly how it all had
+happened, blaming himself far more than he did the
+doctor, who, he said, had repented bitterly.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Had you died, Miss Clyde, when you were so
+sick, I believe he would have felt it his duty to die
+also. He was greatly interested in you; more indeed
+than in 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 class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>“Yes, I think he was anxious for me to get well.
+He was very kind, and I like him very much.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Mentally chiding himself for trying to find in
+Maddy’s head an idea which evidently never was
+there, Guy began to speak of her proposition to 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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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 was teaching a pretty, attractive girl like
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span>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 class='c011'>“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 as you asked
+me about that day; 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 staid 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 can I begin?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Guy had never met with so much frankness and
+simplicity in any one, unless it were in Lucy Atherstone,
+of whom Maddy reminded him a little, except
+that she was more practical, more—he hardly knew
+what—only there was a difference, and a thought
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>crossed his mind that if Maddy had had all Lucy’s
+advantage and was as old, she would be what the
+English call cleverer. There was no disparagement to
+Lucy in his thoughts, only a compliment to Maddy,
+who was waiting for him to answer her question; he
+had offered his services; she had accepted; and with
+the mental comment, “I dread Doc’s chaff the most
+so I’ll explain to him that I am educating her for the
+future Mrs. Holbrook,” he replied:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 spoke?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“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 them, 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span>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 class='c011'>“What made him crazy?” Guy asked, and after a
+moment’s hesitancy Maddy replied:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 <i>rich</i> man who
+was a great deal older even than Uncle Joseph; that
+was the hardest part, and he went 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 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 class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>“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 class='c011'>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 on the
+lawn before he reached the house.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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, for Guy
+approached the subject himself by saying:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Guess, Hal, what crazy project I have just
+embarked in.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I know without guessing; Maddy told me,” and
+the doctor’s eyebrows were elevated 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 class='c011'>“And so you don’t approve?” was Guy’s next
+remark, to which the doctor replied:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Why yes; it’s a grand thing for her, providing
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span>you know enough to teach her; but, Guy, this is
+a confounded gossiping neighborhood, and folks will
+talk, I’m afraid.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>It annoyed the doctor to have Guy praise Maddy,
+but he would not show it, and answered calmly:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“It’s all right in you, but just because the poor
+girl is Maddy Clyde, folks will talk. She is too handsome
+for Madam Grundy to let alone. If <i>Lucy</i> 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 class='c011'>“Jealous, as I live!” and Guy’s hand came down
+playfully on the doctor’s shoulder. “I did not suppose
+you had got so far as that. You are afraid of
+the effect it may have on me teaching a sweet-faced
+little girl how to conjugate <i>amo</i>; and to cover up
+your own interest, you bring Lucy forward as an
+argument. Eh, Hal, have I not probed your secret?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>The doctor was in no mood for joking, and only
+smiled gloomily, while Guy continued:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Honestly, doctor, I am doing it for you. I
+imagine you fancy her, as well you may. She’ll make
+a splendid woman, but she needs education, of course,
+and I am going to give it to her. You ought to thank
+me, instead of looking so like a thunder-cloud,” and
+Guy laughed merrily.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>The doctor was ashamed of his mood, and could
+not tell what spirit prompted him to answer:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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
+staid 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 class='c011'>Guy felt himself very good, very generous, very
+condescending, and very forgiving, the earlier portion
+of the afternoon; but later in the day he began to
+view Guy Remington in the light of a martyr, said
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>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 class='c011'>“Was he beside himself, or what?” the latter
+asked. “She liked Maddy Clyde herself, but it wasn’t
+for him to demean himself by turning her schoolmaster.
+Folks would talk awfully, and she couldn’t
+blame ’em; besides, what would Lucy Atherstone say
+to his bein’ alone in a room with a girl as pretty as
+Maddy? It was a duty he owed <i>her</i> at any rate to tell
+her all about it, and if she said ’twas right, why,
+go it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>This was the drift of Mrs. Noah’s remarks, and as
+Guy depended much on her judgment, he decided to
+write to Lucy and ask 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, 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span>Mrs. Noah said about it, and his final determination to
+consult her. Then he described Maddy herself, and
+told how pure, how innocent, how artless and beautiful
+she was, and asked if Lucy feared aught from his
+association with her.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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 class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span>
+ <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XII.<br> <span class='c009'>LUCY’S LETTER.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='c010'>
+ <img class='drop-capi' src='images/di_173.jpg' width='100' alt=''>
+</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
+At last the answer came, and it was Maddy
+who brought it to Aikenside. 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 post-mark, and
+that it was in the delicate handwriting of some lady,
+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 placing the letter carefully in her basket she kept
+on to Aikenside.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>The letter was just like Lucy, 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 her mother would
+let her come. That pain in her side was not any better,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span>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 Guy, but she would think of him, oh!
+so often, teaching that dear little Maddy Clyde, and
+she should 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 in store for them.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 wife, or I
+have ever called you husband. Heaven <i>is</i> 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 I sometimes shrink from the dark grave,
+which would hide me 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 maybe he will
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>hear <i>you</i>. Do, Guy, please pray for your Lucy, far
+away over the sea.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Guy could not resist that touching appeal, and
+though his lips were all unused to prayer, he bowed his
+head upon his hands and asked that she might live,
+beseeching the Father to send upon him any calamity
+save this one—Lucy must not die. Guy felt better
+for having prayed. It was something to tell Lucy,
+something that would please her, 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
+Lucy’s mother would let her come where doctors were
+skillful, she might get well; but she was determined
+that no husband should be burdened with an ailing
+wife, and so, if the mountain would not come to
+Mahomet, Mahomet must go to the mountain; and
+Guy fairly leaped from his chair as he exclaimed, “I
+have it—there’s <i>Doc</i>!—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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>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 the day had been so
+long.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 his arm-chair.
+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 a superfluity of health;
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>and why shouldn’t she? Dr. Holbrook had cured
+Maddy; Dr. Holbrook could cure Lucy; and so for
+the present dismissing Lucy from his mind, he turned
+to Maddy, and said the time had come when he could
+give those promised lessons, and asked if she would
+commence to-morrow, after she was through with
+Jessie, and what she would prefer to take up first.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Oh, Mr. Remington,” and Maddy began to cry,
+“I am afraid I cannot stay! they need me at home,
+or may need me. Grandpa said so, and I don’t want
+to go, though I know it’s wicked not to; oh, dear,
+dear!”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 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?</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Controlling her voice as well as she was able,
+Maddy told him that 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, it might be well for Mr.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>Markham to take him to Honedale awhile; that
+having been spoken with upon the subject, he seemed
+as anxious as a little child, even crying when the
+night came round 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 class='c011'>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 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 class='c011'>As Guy had half expected, the doctor came round
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>that evening, and inviting him into his private room,
+Guy proceeded at once to unfold his scheme, asking
+him first:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“How much he probably received a year for his
+services as physician.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“Because 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
+Rome. 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 class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>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 Rome, and the places he
+had dreamed of as a boy, but never hoped to see; and
+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 to tell him, amid blushes of shame and
+tears of regret, how she had intended to pay him with
+her very first wages, but now that Uncle Joseph was
+coming home, he must wait a little longer.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Will you 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
+as she explained.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Thinking they would rather be alone, Guy left
+them together in the lighted hall, and then, sitting
+down on the sofa, and making Maddy sit beside him,
+the doctor began:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Maddy, you know I mean what I say, at least to
+you, and when I tell you that I never think of that
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>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 class='c011'>He did not get any further, for Maddy hastily
+interrupted him, and while her eyes flashed with pride,
+exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I will not be a charity patient! I say <i>I will not</i>!
+I’d be a hired girl before I’d do it!”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“I tell you, Maddy, honestly, that when I want
+that bill liquidated I’ll ask you. I certainly will, and
+will let you pay it, too. Does that satisfy you?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Yes,” Maddy said, and after a little the doctor
+continued:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“By the way, Maddy, I have some idea of going
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span>to Europe for a few months, or a year, perhaps. You
+know it does a physician good to study awhile in
+Paris. What do you think of it? Shall I go?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>The doctor had become quite necessary to Maddy’s
+happiness. It was to him 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 very lonely without him.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Would you, Maddy? Are you in earnest?
+Would you be the 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 class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>they were older and needed her more, it was their duty
+to leave her with him. 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 well, especially as it was backed by Maddy’s
+eyes, full 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
+an education.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>Maddy was very happy after it was settled, and
+chatted gayly with her grandmother while Guy went
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span>out with her grandfather, who wished to speak with
+him alone.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 livid with horror at 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 bitter
+as I should repent the rashness.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Guy attempted to speak, but grandpa motioned
+him to be silent, while he went on:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span>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 class='c011'>Grandpa felt relieved when he had said all this to
+Guy, who listened politely, smiling at the idea of
+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 bed-room intended for Uncle Joseph, and
+Guy, as he glanced at the furniture, thought within
+himself how he would send down from Aikenside
+some of the unused articles piled away on the garret
+when he refurnished his house.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>
+ <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XIII.<br> <span class='c009'>GOSSIP.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='c010'>
+ <img class='drop-capi' src='images/di_186.jpg' width='100' alt=''>
+</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
+In course of time Uncle Joseph came, as was
+arranged, and on the day following Maddy
+and Guy went 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 <i>Mr. Remington</i>, 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 class='c011'>“Much too young; he was older than I, and I am
+over forty. It’s all right.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 her 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 class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>Uncle Joseph seemed to fancy 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 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 by a series
+of headaches, so severe and protracted that Dr. Holbrook
+had pronounced her really sick, and had been
+unusually attentive. Very anxiously she had waited
+for the result of Maddy’s visit to the poor lunatic, and
+her face was white as marble as she heard him described,
+while a faint sigh escaped her when Maddy
+told what he had said of <i>Sarah</i>.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Agnes was changed somewhat of late. She had
+grown more thoughtful and quiet, while her manner
+toward Maddy was not so haughty as formerly. Guy
+thought her improved, and thus was not so delighted
+as he would otherwise have been, when, one day, about
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>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 class='c011'>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 so gay as she meant to be in
+Boston. Jessie, too, when consulted, said she would
+far rather remain at Aikenside; and so one November
+morning, Agnes kissed her little daughter, and
+bidding good-bye 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 class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span>and keep him as long as possible. But he
+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 class='c011'>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 there, as he 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
+her 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span>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. 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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>Guy was luxurious in his tastes and it seemed to
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>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 class='c011'>It did not take long for the people in the neighborhood
+to hear that Guy Remington had turned schoolmaster,
+and had in his library for two hours or more
+each day Jessie’s little girl-governess, about whose
+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
+<i>fiancée</i> and was educating a wife.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 soon 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 gave her four,
+esteeming them the pleasantest of the whole twenty-four.
+Guy was proud of Maddy’s improvement, and
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>often praised her 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 had learned.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>It mattered nothing to Guy that the 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 “catch”
+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 his first
+visit to Uncle Joseph, Guy never accompanied her.
+Jessie, on the contrary, went often to Honedale, where
+the lunatic always greeted her coming, stealing up
+closely to her, and whispering softly, “My Daisy has
+come again.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>He had called her <i>Sarah</i> at first, and then changed
+the name to “Daisy,” which he persisted in calling
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span>her, watching from his window for her coming, and
+crying whenever Maddy appeared without her. At
+first Agnes, in her letters, 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 class='c011'>A few weeks after this 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 even 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, people will keep on talking so long
+as you keep her there in the house; and it’s hardly
+fair toward Lucy.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Latterly Guy had fancied that the doctor did not
+like the educating process, while even Mrs. Noah
+managed to keep Maddy out of his way as soon
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>as the lessons were ended. What did they mean?
+What were they afraid of, and why did they presume
+to interfere with him? He would know, at all
+events; and summoning Mrs. Noah to his presence,
+he read her that part of Agnes’s letter pertaining to
+Maddy, and asked what it meant.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“It means this, that folks are in a constant worry,
+for fear you’ll fall in love with Maddy Clyde.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I fall in love with that child!” Guy repeated,
+laughing at the idea, and forgetting that he had often
+accused the doctor of doing that very thing.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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-teachin’?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 people meddling
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span>with him, that he thought of Lucy Atherstone <i>all</i>
+the time, and he did not know what more he could
+do; that it was 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 class='c011'>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 <i>plusses</i> and <i>minuses</i>, 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 in the way, 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 class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>light it did as when presented by Mrs. Noah, and he
+doggedly asked what Mrs. Noah would have him do.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“Not away from Aikenside! I never will!” and
+Guy sprang to his feet.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>The mine had exploded, and for an instant the
+young man reeled, as he caught a glimpse of his real
+self. Still, he would not believe it, or confess to himself
+how strong a place in his affection was held by
+the beautiful girl, now no longer a child. It was
+almost a year since that April afternoon when he first
+saw Maddy Clyde, and from a timid, bashful child, of
+fourteen and a half, she had grown to the rather tall
+and self-possessed maiden of fifteen and a half, almost
+sixteen, or, 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 class='c011'>“Certainly, come in,” Guy said; and folding his
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>arms he leaned against the mantel, watching her as
+she hunted for the missing book.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>There was no pretense about Maddy Clyde, nothing
+was done 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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“Yes, more than pretty. She’ll make a most
+beautiful woman.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Guy seemed to talk more to himself than to Mrs.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>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 this comparison,
+but rather Mrs. Noah’s next remark, which
+affected him unpleasantly.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Of course she’ll make a splendid woman,” Mrs.
+Noah said. “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 class='c011'>Guy looked up inquiringly, and Mrs. Noah continued:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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, and then good-bye to her happiness.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>Guy 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 class='c011'>“You are going to teach her to love you, Guy
+Remington, just as sure as my name is Noah.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>“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;” Guy’s voice
+faltered a little, but he recovered himself and went
+on: “I will tell her about Lucy to-night, but I can’t
+send her away. Neither will she be happy to go
+back, for though the best of people, they are not like
+Maddy, and you know it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>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 she cared.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“And during the vacations, where must she go?”
+Guy asked.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Go where she pleases, of course. As Jessie is so
+fond of her, and they are so 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 class='c011'>“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 anybody 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 must needs 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 class='c011'>“And you will do so?” Mrs. Noah said, coaxingly.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>“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 class='c011'>“And will that be true?” Mrs. Noah asked.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“True? Yes, every word of it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Mrs. Noah noted all this, and thought:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I ought to have taken him in hand long ago;”
+then 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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“You know, Guy, as well as I, that, pretty as she
+is, Maddy is really beneath you, and no kind of a
+match, even if you wan’t as good as married, which
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>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 class='c011'>Mrs. Noah’s last remark awakened in Guy a singular
+train of thought. 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 intentions, 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
+his friends, 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 room.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>
+ <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XIV.<br> <span class='c009'>MADDY AND LUCY.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='c010'>
+ <img class='drop-capi' src='images/di_203.jpg' width='100' alt=''>
+</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
+Supper was over, and Guy had returned
+to his library. He had not stopped, as
+he usually did, to romp with Jessie or
+talk to Maddy Clyde, 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 that
+she must stay with her while Maddy went to Mr.
+Guy, who wanted to talk with her.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Is he angry with me, Mrs. Noah?” Maddy asked,
+and, remembering his moody looks when she went in
+quest of the book, she felt her heart misgive her as
+to what might be the result of an interview with
+Guy.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span>smoothing the folds of her muslin 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 class='c011'>“Maddy,” he began, “are you happy here at
+Aikenside?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Oh, yes, very, very happy,” and Maddy’s soft
+eyes shone with the happiness she tried to express.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>It was at least a minute before he spoke again,
+and when he did, he told her he had concluded 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, where her vacation 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 class='c011'>Maddy was too much stunned to think of anything
+at first. That the goal she had coveted most should
+be placed within her grasp, and by Guy Remington
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>too, was almost too much to credit. She was happy at
+Aikenside, but she had never expected her life there
+would 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.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Oh, Mr. Remington, you are so good to me;
+what makes you?” she cried; and then she told him
+how much she wished to be a teacher, so as to help
+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 class='c011'>“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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>you could be here, but I shall miss you sadly. I like
+little girls, and though you can hardly be classed with
+them now, you seem to be much like Jessie, and I
+take pleasure in doing for you as I would for her.
+Maddy,——”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Guy stopped, uncertain what to say next, while
+Maddy’s eyes again looked up inquiringly.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“Written to whom?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Guy did not look at Maddy. He only knew that
+her head moved out from beneath his hand as he
+replied:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“To Miss Atherstone—Miss Lucy Atherstone.
+Have you never heard of her?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Maddy never had, and with the same numbness
+she could not understand, she listened while Guy
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>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 was
+engaged, and that some time 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
+before she comprehended what he meant.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>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 curious as her own.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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 it mean?
+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 class='c011'>Child as she was, the real cause of her tears never
+entered her brain, and she answered:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span>“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 class='c011'>“No, Maddy, you are not;” and Guy interrupted
+her.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Gently lifting up her head, he smoothed back her
+hair; and keeping a hand on each side of her face,
+said, pleasantly:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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 upon the arm of his chair
+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 class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_210'>210</span>“I do not know what made me cry, only I have
+been so happy here that I guess I thought it might go
+on forever. I am afraid Miss Atherstone will not
+fancy me, and I know I shall not feel as free here, after
+she comes, as I do now. Then your being so good in
+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, and it
+made Guy 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 class='c011'>Had Maddy been more a woman, and less a child,
+he 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 master; and while talking with Jessie of the
+grand times they should have at school, she marveled
+at that little 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 class='c011'>But Guy did speak of her, frankly confessing the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>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 Switzerland, where
+she expected to spend the summer, half hoping Guy
+might join her there, though she could not urge it, as
+her mother 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 at all 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 class='c011'>“Darling little Lucy, I do love her very dearly,”
+was Guy’s comment, as he finished reading her letter,
+feeling for the moment 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>might join her, and thought how many times he had
+crossed the sea to no purpose, he said, half petulantly:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I’ve been to England for nothing times enough.
+When that mother of hers says I may have her
+daughter, I’ll go again, but not before. It don’t
+pay.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>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 was to accompany them if she chose, and
+having a general supervision of her child. This was
+Guy’s plan, and it 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 principle 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>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 class='c011'>“My picture? 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. This, it must be remembered,
+was in the day of ambrotypes, and before the
+introduction of photographs.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 all 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>suspicions were groundless, and he entered heartily
+into the picture plan, saying, laughingly, that if he supposed
+Miss Lucy would like <i>his</i> face he’d sit himself,
+and bidding Guy be sure to ask her. The doctor’s gay
+spirits helped to 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 went into raptures,
+and Maddy blushed to hear her own praises.
+Guy said nothing, except to ask that Maddy should sit
+again; the first 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 class='c011'>“You may as well finish both; they are too good
+to be lost.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>The artist bowed, and Guy, with a half-guilty
+blush, hurried down into the street, where Agnes
+was waiting for him. Three hours later, Guy, in
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span>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 class='c011'>“I think I might have one,” Jessie said, half-poutingly;
+then, as she remembered the second sitting,
+she begged of Guy to get it for her.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>But he did not seem inclined to comply with her
+request, and kept putting her off, until, despairing of
+success, Jessie, when alone with the doctor, tried her
+powers of persuasion on him, 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 class='c011'>“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 it; and, Jessie, I
+wouldn’t tell Guy I tried to get it for you.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Jessie wondered why she must not tell Guy, but
+the fact that the doctor requested her not to do so
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span>was sufficient. Consequently, Guy little guessed that
+the doctor knew what it was he carried so carefully in
+his coat pocket, looking at it often when alone in his
+own room, and admiring its soft, girlish beauty, and
+trying to convince himself that his sole object in
+getting it was to give it to the <i>doctor</i> 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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>Now that it was fully decided for Jessie to go to
+New York with Maddy, her lessons were suspended,
+and Aikenside for the time being was turned into a
+vast dress-making and millinery establishment.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>With his usual generosity, Guy had given Agnes
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span>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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>No one could live long with Maddy Clyde without
+becoming interested in her, and in spite of herself
+Agnes’s dislike was wearing away, particularly as of
+late she had seen no signs of special attention on the
+doctor’s part. He had recovered from his weakness,
+she thought, and she was very gracious toward Maddy,
+who, naturally forgiving, began to like her better than
+she had ever deemed it possible for her to like so
+proud and haughty a woman.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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. Woman-like, 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,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>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 lest 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, the great
+city, which to the simple-hearted old man seemed
+a very Babylon of iniquity, was different, and for
+a time he objected 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 a daily prayer for the “young
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>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.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 had asked for 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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>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 eyes were dimmer, and
+rested on her with no suspicious glance, as, partially
+reassured, she glided across the threshold, and bowed
+civilly when Guy presented grandfather to her.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>A little anxious as to how her grandfather would
+acquit himself, Maddy sat by, wondering why Agnes
+appeared so ill at ease, and why her grandfather
+started sometimes at the sound of her voice, and
+looked earnestly at her.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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 taken 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span>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 nothin’ 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.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Who, sir? What did you say?” and Agnes’s
+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, whom he calls <i>madam</i>.
+He says, for ten minutes on the stretch: ‘God bless
+the madam—the madam—the madam!’ that’s because
+you are good to Maddy. You’re sick, lady; talkin’
+about crazy folks makes you faint,” grandpa added
+hastily, as Agnes turned white as the dress she wore.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>He did not hear her faint cry of bitter remorse, as
+he walked through the hall, or know she watched
+him as he went slowly down the walk, stopping often
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span>to admire the fair blossoms which Maddy did not feel
+at liberty to pick.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“<i>He</i> 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.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>It was rather difficult to do so with Maddy’s inquiring
+eyes upon her, but Agnes managed at last to
+say:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Does that crazy man like flowers—the one who
+prays for the <i>madam</i>?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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,
+growing so profusely within the borders.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Take them to him, will you?” and her hands
+shook as she passed to Grandpa Markham the gift
+which would thrill poor crazy Joseph with a strange
+delight, making him hold converse awhile with the
+unseen presence which he called “she,” and then to
+whisper blessings on the <i>madam’s</i> head.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>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 and the letters he wrote to Lucy.
+Nothing but these and the <i>doctor’s</i> 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 class='c011'>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 talk one whit, for the
+people marveled more than ever, feeling confident
+now that he was educating his own wife, and making
+sundry spiteful 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, just as Maddy had smiled upon him when, in
+Madam ——’s parlor, he bade her good-bye. The
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span>doctor could not have that picture, he finally decided.
+“Hal ought to be satisfied with getting Maddy, as of
+course he will, for am I not educating her for that
+very purpose?” he said to himself; 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 No.
+1. 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
+to be.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span>
+ <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XV.<br> <span class='c009'>THE HOLIDAYS.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='c010'>
+ <img class='drop-capi' src='images/di_225.jpg' width='100' alt=''>
+</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
+The summer vacation had been spent by the
+Remingtons 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 afternoon to call upon Miss
+Clyde. He was glad she was not at Aikenside; he
+would rather meet her at the cottage, and he hoped he
+might be fortunate enough to find her alone.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span>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 suspicions 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 class='c011'>Guy was in the best of spirits. For an entire half
+day he had tried to devise some means of 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 this in her face when he bade
+her good-bye, 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.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span>The house was to be thrown open in honor of Guy’s
+birthday, and all who were at all desirable 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 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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“Yes, why?” Guy replied, beginning to feel
+strangely uncomfortable as he half divined what was
+coming next.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span>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 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 class='c011'>“I have not seen Maddy since last spring, you
+know. Is she very much improved?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“Well, is she as handsome as she used to be, and
+as childish in her manner?” the doctor asked; and
+Guy replied:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I took her to the opera once, last month, and the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>many admiring glances cast at our box proved pretty
+positively that Maddy’s beauty was not of the ordinary
+kind.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“<i>The opera!</i>” the doctor exclaimed; “Maddy
+Clyde at the opera! What would her grandfather
+say? He is very puritanical in his notions.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 <i>theater</i> anyhow. He considers
+that in the same block with the bottomless
+pit.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Here an interval of silence ensued, and then the
+doctor began again:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Guy, you told me once you were educating
+Maddy Clyde for me, and I tried 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
+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 class='c011'>“Tenth day,” Guy responded, thus showing that
+he, too, was keeping Maddy’s age, even to a day.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Yes, the tenth day,” resumed the doctor. “There
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span>are many 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 class='c011'>“<i>I!</i>” and Guy’s face was crimson, while the doctor
+continued:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>Guy felt the blood prickling at the roots of
+his hair, but he answered truthfully, as he believed:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“Then I am satisfied,” the doctor rejoined; “and as
+you have rather assumed the position of Maddy’s guardian
+or brother, I ask your permission to offer her the
+love which, whether she accepts it or not, is hers.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Guy had never fell 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 class='c011'>“You have my consent; but, Doc, better put it off
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span>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 class='c011'>Guy was growing rather savage about something
+but the doctor did not mind; and grasping his arm as
+he arose, he said:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“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, Maria has grown 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 class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span>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
+until he reached Honedale, where a pair of soft,
+brown eyes smiled up into his face, and a little warm
+hand was clasped in his, as Maddy came out to the
+gate to meet him.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>She was very glad to see him. The cottage, with
+its humble adornings, did seem lonely, and 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 place she once loved so well.
+She had been there five days, 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 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 wish to see her?
+If not, she could be indifferent too, and when they did
+meet, she could show him how little she cared!</p>
+
+<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_233'>233</span>At Guy she was not particularly piqued. She did
+not take his attentions as a matter of course, and did
+not think it very strange that since bringing her there
+on the night of her return from New York, he had not
+once called upon her; still, she thought more of him,
+if possible, than of the doctor, during those five days,
+and was rather anxious to see him. She had something
+to show him—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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_234'>234</span>miles. Little by little Maddy had learned that Lucy’s
+mother was averse to the match, and had always been;
+that she had in her mind an English lord, who would
+make her daughter “My lady;” and this was the
+secret of her so long deferring her daughter’s marriage.
+In her last letter to Maddy, however, Lucy had
+written with more than her usual spirit that she
+should come into possession of her property on her
+twenty-fifth birthday and be really her own mistress.
+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 would be glad to
+see this letter, 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.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_235'>235</span>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 am of age 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 class='c011'>“Yes, it is 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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>Low as Maddy’s words were, Guy heard them, as
+well as the crazy man’s reply, “Engagements have
+been broken.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>That was the first time the possibility had ever
+entered Guy’s brain that his engagement might be
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_236'>236</span>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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>Maddy had never attended a big party in her life,
+and 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 festival
+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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_237'>237</span>Maddy was soon on her way to Aikenside, which presented
+a gayer, busier appearance than she had seen
+there 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 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 class='c011'>“Mother said plain white muslin was more appropriate
+for a young girl, but brother Guy said no; the
+blue silk would be useful after the party; it was what
+you needed; and so he bought it and paid two dollars
+a yard, but it’s a secret until you are called to try it on.
+Isn’t Guy splendid?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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, though
+Maddy thought her grandfather would say it was too
+low in the neck, but Sarah overruled her objections,
+assisted by Guy, who, when the dress was complete
+and tried on for the last time, was called in by Jessie
+to see if “Maddy must have a piece sewed on, as she
+suggested.” The neck was <i>au fait</i>, Guy said, laughing
+at Maddy for being so old-maidish, and saying
+when he saw how really distressed she seemed, that he
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_238'>238</span>would provide her with something to relieve the bareness
+of which she complained.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Oh, I know, I saw, I <i>peeked</i> in the box,” Jessie
+began, but Guy put his hand over the little tattler’s
+mouth, bidding her keep the result of her <i>peeking</i> to
+herself.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Jessie was in ecstacies again. Clasping the ornaments
+on Maddy’s neck and arms, she danced around
+her, declaring there never was anything more beautiful,
+or anybody so pretty as Maddy was in her party
+dress. Maddy was fond of jewelry—and felt a flush
+of gratified pride, or vanity, or satisfaction, whichever
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_239'>239</span>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 had anticipated, but Maddy was
+not so happy in possession of the coveted ornaments
+as she had thought she should be. It seemed to her
+that <i>Guy</i> 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 class='c011'>At first Agnes had cared but little about the party,
+affecting to despise the people in their immediate
+neighborhood; but her spirits rose at last; 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,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_240'>240</span>kept his eyes fixed admiringly on Maddy, who started
+him into certain unpleasant remembrances by asking
+if the doctor had come yet.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“No—yes—there he is now;” and Guy looked into
+the hall, where the doctor’s voice was heard inquiring
+for him.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I want to see him a minute, alone, please. There’s
+something I wish to ask him.” And, unmindful of
+Agnes’s darkened frown, or Guy’s look of wonder,
+Maddy darted from the room, and ran hastily down to
+the hall where the doctor stood, waiting for Guy, not
+for her.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>He had not expected to meet her thus, or to see her
+thus, and the sight of her, grown so tall, so womanly
+and beautiful, almost took his breath away. And yet,
+as he stood with her hand in his, and surveyed her
+from head to foot, he felt that he would rather have
+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 golden 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,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_241'>241</span>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 class='c011'>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 improved
+with living in a city?</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“One question at a time, if you please,” he said,
+drawing her a little more into the shadow of the hall,
+where they would be less observed by any one passing
+through it.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“It would displease Mr. Guy very much if I were
+to give them back,” she said; “but it is hardly right
+for me to accept them, is it?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>The doctor did not say she ought not to wear the
+ornaments, though he longed to tear them from her
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_242'>242</span>arms and neck and throw them anywhere, he cared not
+where, so they freed her wholly from Guy.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“They are very becoming,” he said. “You would
+not look as well without them; so you had better
+wear them to-night, and to-morrow, if you will grant
+me an interview, I will talk with you further.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>He said all this to gain the desired 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 flowing hair,
+came in for a full share of attention. But amid the
+gay throng there was none so fair or beautiful as
+Maddy, who deported herself with as much ease and
+grace as if she had all her life been accustomed to just
+such occasions as this. At a distance the doctor
+watched her, telling several who she was, and once
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_243'>243</span>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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“But <i>I</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 class='c011'>It was his favorite song, and one which brought
+out Maddy’s voice in its various modulations.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Oh, please, Mr. Remington, anything but that
+song. I cannot do it justice;” Maddy whispered,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_244'>244</span>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 have done
+the same.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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, bird-like voice trembled for a moment with
+fear, and then, gaining confidence 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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“There’s devotion,” tittered a miss in long ringlets;
+“but she really does play well,” and she appealed
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_245'>245</span>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—Jessie’s <i>governess</i>. Introduce
+me, please.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“Can you play a waltz or polka, Miss Clyde? We
+are aching to exercise our feet—that is, if Mr. Remington
+does not object. I dare say old Mr. and Mrs.
+Deacon Crane will start for home instanter at the first
+note of anything as wicked as Money Musk.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>When the party was first talked about, Agnes had
+proposed that it be a regular dancing party, with suitable
+music provided for it. But Guy, who knew how
+such a thing would shock the puritanical prejudices of
+many of the people of Sommerville, who held dancing
+as a sin, said, “No—he wished all his guests to enjoy
+themselves. So he would not hire music, or have
+dancing as a rule. If any of the young people wished
+to amuse themselves that way, they were welcome to
+do so, and he presumed some one of their number
+could play sufficiently well for quadrilles, and possibly
+waltzing.” So, when appealed to on the subject by
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_246'>246</span>Miss Cutler, he replied, “Certainly; dance by all
+means if you wish to, and Maddy is willing to play.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Maddy bowed, and struck into a spirited waltz,
+which set many of the young people to whirling in
+circles, and produced the result which Maria so much
+desired, viz.: it took 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 towards 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 on his arm, 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—I shall
+find you a partner.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Oh, thank you,” Maddy answered. “I am not
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_247'>247</span>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 class='c011'>“But it is not fair for one to do all the playing;
+besides, I shall ask you to dance with me by-and-bye.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Maddy’s face crimsoned for an instant, and then in
+a low voice she said, “I thank you, but I must
+decline.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“<i>Maddy!</i>” Guy exclaimed, in tones more indicative
+of reproach than expostulation.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>But he did not at once. Standing for a moment
+irresolute, while he looked curiously at Maddy, he
+said at last:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_248'>248</span>“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, who was waiting for
+him, and sauntered toward the green room.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“What a blue old ignoramus that grandfather
+must be to object to dancing, don’t you think so?”
+Maria said, laughing a little spitefully, and feeling secretly
+glad that Maddy had refused, and secretly
+angry at Guy for seeming to care so much.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>Guy would have taken Maddy’s side then, whatever
+he might have thought, and he replied:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Not lack of brains, certainly. Education and
+circumstances have much to do with one’s views upon
+that subject. For my part, I like to see people consistent.
+Now, this old ignoramus, as you call him,
+lays great stress on <i>pomp</i> and <i>vanities</i>, and when I
+asked him once what he meant by them, he mentioned
+<i>dancing</i> in particular as one of the things which you
+church members promise to renounce;” and Guy
+bowed towards Maria, who, knowing that she was one
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_249'>249</span>of the church members referred to, winced perceptibly.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“But this girl—this Maddy. There’s no reason
+why she should decline,” she said; and Guy replied:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Respect for her grandfather, in her case, seems to
+be stronger than respect for a higher power in some
+other cases.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“It’s just as wicked to play for dancing as ’tis to
+dance,” Maria remarked, impatiently; while Guy
+rejoined:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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
+music.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 Maddy’s cheeks as
+the notes before her ran together, and the keys
+assumed the form of one huge key which she 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_250'>250</span>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 up-stairs
+there were no little sick girl, all alone undoubtedly
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_251'>251</span>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 class='c011'>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 and how she acted, and 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 class='c011'>“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 so fast, and both tried to take you up. I
+think Miss Cutler real hateful, for she said, mean like,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_252'>252</span>‘Do you see them pull her, as if it was of the slightest
+consequence which carried her out?’”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Jessie!” Guy interposed sternly; while the
+doctor, who had spent the night at Aikenside, looked
+disapprovingly at the little girl, who subsided into
+silence after saying, in an under-tone, “I do think
+she’s hateful, and that isn’t all she said either about
+Maddy!”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“I say, Guy, have you said anything to her
+about—well, about me, you know?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“Guy, if you were not engaged, I should be
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_253'>253</span>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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_254'>254</span>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 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 as 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 there, if the doctor
+wished to know his fate that morning.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I hear her now—I’ll call her,” he said; and
+opening the door, he spoke to Maddy, who was just
+passing through the hall, “Dr. Holbrook wishes to
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_255'>255</span>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 class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_256'>256</span>
+ <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XVI.<br> <span class='c009'>THE DOCTOR AND MADDY.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='c010'>
+ <img class='drop-capi' src='images/di_256.jpg' width='100' alt=''>
+</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
+Now that they were alone, the doctor’s
+courage forsook him, and he could only
+stammer out some common-place remarks
+about the party, asking how Maddy had 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 ought
+to have divined it ere this; and if so, why didn’t she
+blush, or do something?</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“Yes, oh, yes, I believe I did.” And getting
+up from his chair, the doctor began to walk the floor,
+the better to hide his confusion. “Yes, the bracelets.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_257'>257</span>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’m 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 class='c011'>“Not the slightest, unless you are going crazy.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>She could in no other way account for his strange
+conduct, and she sat staring at him while he continued:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>With a scared, miserable feeling, Maddy listened
+to him, wondering where she could 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,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_258'>258</span>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 silenced
+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 class='c011'>“Maddy, I know you have no money. It is not
+that I want, Maddy; I want—I want—<i>you</i>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 grow heavy as lead as she knew
+how impossible it was for her to pay the debt in the
+way which he desired.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 your wife; no, doctor, I cannot.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_259'>259</span>She was sobbing piteously, and in his concern for
+her the doctor forgot somewhat the stunning blow he
+had received.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Don’t, Maddy!” 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 class='c011'>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 in the least, 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 he said to her:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Do you love some one else, Maddy? Is another
+preferred before me, and is that the reason why you
+cannot love me?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“No,” Maddy answered, through her tears.
+“There is no one else. Whom should I love, unless
+it were you? I know nobody but Mr. Remington.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>That name touched a sore, aching chord in the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_260'>260</span>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 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 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.
+Maddy, as she listened, felt for him a strange kind of
+a 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 class='c011'>“Dr. Holbrook, would you like me to say yes with
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_261'>261</span>my lips when all the time there was something at my
+heart tugging to answer no?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 was going on.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>But the smile was a forlorn one, and there came
+instead a tear as he thought how dear was this girl
+who never could 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
+that in time she should learn to love him. She would
+try so hard, she would 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 class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_262'>262</span>half-made promise. But the doctor was too noble, too
+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, except <i>Guy</i>.
+“I must tell him,” the doctor said, “because he knew
+that I was going to ask you.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+bye-gones, a thing never again to be talked about;
+and offering him her hand, she looked for an instant
+earnestly into his face, and then, without a word, hurried
+from the room, while the doctor, with a sad,
+heavy heart, went in quest of Guy.</p>
+
+<hr class='c012'>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Refused you, did you say?” and Guy’s face certainly
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_263'>263</span>looked brighter than it had before since he left
+the doctor with Maddy Clyde.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“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-bye to Guy,
+and then went galloping down the avenue.</p>
+
+<hr class='c012'>
+
+<p class='c011'>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;
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_264'>264</span>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
+responsible. Once there came over her the wild impulse
+to bid him stay, to say that she would be his
+wife; but, before the rash act was done, Guy came
+down to the cottage, and Maddy’s resolution gave way
+at once.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+mind. 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.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_265'>265</span>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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“They will 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 give to
+another. So he laid them away beside the picture
+guarded so carefully from every one.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_266'>266</span>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 class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_267'>267</span>
+ <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XVII.<br> <span class='c009'>WOMANHOOD.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='c010'>
+ <img class='drop-capi' src='images/di_267.jpg' width='100' alt=''>
+</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
+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
+afterwards, 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 sick bed, with Dr. Holbrook
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_268'>268</span>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.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>But Lucy was much better now. She could sit up
+all day, and even walk a little distance, assisted by the
+doctor and <i>Margaret</i>, whose name had come 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 further than that.
+Neither did she ask Guy a word about her, though she
+knew he must have seen her. She did 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 <i>cross</i>, while Jessie complained that he never
+romped or played with her now, but sat all day long
+in a deep reverie of some kind.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_269'>269</span>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 class='c011'>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='c010'>“Your grandmother is dying. Come at once.
+Agnes and Jessie will stay till next week.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Guy Remington.</span>”</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>It was impossible to go that afternoon, but with
+the earliest dawn Maddy was up, and, unmindful of the
+snow falling so rapidly, started on that 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 wintry 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_270'>270</span>not, what would 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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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 wished 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, the storm having prevented her return.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“And grandma?” Maddy gasped, fixing her eyes
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_271'>271</span>wistfully upon him. “You do not think her
+dead?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>No, Guy did not, and stooping he asked if he
+should not remove from the little feet resting on the
+stove-hearth the over-shoes, so full of melting snow.
+Maddy cared nothing 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 shoulders as she continued her questionings.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“She is not dead, you say; but do you think—does
+anybody think she’ll die? Your telegram said
+‘dying.’”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_272'>272</span>her grandmother to toil in the humble cottage, and
+die without one parting word for her.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 her. At last,
+as she heard a clock in the adjoining room strike
+eight, she started up, exclaiming, “I have staid too
+long. I must go now. Is there any conveyance
+here?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 word to have your room and the parlors
+warmed, and a nice hot supper ready for us. You’ll
+surely go with me, if I think best.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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;</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“You don’t know how dear grandma is to me, or
+you would not ask me to stay. She’s all the mother I
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_273'>273</span>ever knew, and I must go. Think, would you stay if
+the one you loved best was dying?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“But the one I love best is not dying, so I can
+reason clearly, Maddy.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Here Guy checked himself, and listened while
+Maddy asked again if there was no conveyance there
+as usual.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“None but mine,” said Guy, while Maddy continued
+faintly:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“And you are afraid it will kill your horses?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“No, it would only fatigue them greatly. It’s for
+you I fear. You’ve borne enough to-day.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“John will go if I bid him. But you, Maddy, if I
+thought it was safe.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“It is. Oh, let me go,” and Maddy grasped both
+his hands beseechingly.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 went
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_274'>274</span>to John, asking him if it would be possible to get
+through to Honedale that night.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“It’ll kill them horses,” he said; “but mabby
+that’s nothin’ to please the girl.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 take a pair of farm horses. They can endure
+more. Tell Flora to send my traveling shawl—Miss
+Clyde may need it—and an extra carriage robe,
+and a bottle of wine, and my buckskin gloves, and
+bring Tom with you, and a snow-shovel, we may have
+to dig.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>Meanwhile, with the prospect of going home,
+Maddy had grown quiet, and did not refuse the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_275'>275</span>supper of buttered toast, muffins, steak, and hot
+coffee, which Guy ordered from the small hotel just
+in rear of the depot. Tired, nervous, and almost helpless,
+she allowed Guy himself to prepare the 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, however, she never for a moment
+forgot her grandmother—though she did forget, in a
+measure, her anxiety, and was able to think 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 class='c011'>It was after nine when John appeared, his crisp
+wool powdered with snow, which clung to his outer
+garments, and literally covered his dark cloth cap.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“The snow was mighty deep,” he said, bowing to
+Maddy, “and the wind was getting colder. It was a
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_276'>276</span>hard time Miss Clyde would have, and hadn’t she
+better wait?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“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 before Maddy was
+fully aware of his intentions, he had her in his arms,
+and was bearing her to the sleigh.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“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!”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_277'>277</span>“Oh, no. I was dreading the long ride, but did
+not dream of your going. You will shorten it so
+much.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Then I shall be paid for going,” was Guy’s
+response, as he drew still more closely around her the
+fancy robe.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_278'>278</span>abandoned himself to the happiness of the moment—a
+singular kind 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>
+
+<hr class='c012'>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_279'>279</span>she never speak again, Maddy asked despairingly, and
+her grandfather replied:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 were learning so fast.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>He was thinking of what had not yet entered
+Maddy’s mind, thinking of <i>the future</i>—Maddy’s
+future, when the aged form upon the bed should be
+gone, and the two comparatively helpless men be left
+alone.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_280'>280</span>nor yet that his feelings toward Lucy had under
+gone 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 child-like 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 in that
+cottage, Maddy’s home, they recurred to him with
+tenfold intensity, for he foresaw that a struggle was
+before him if he rescued Maddy as he meant to do
+from her approaching fate.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_281'>281</span>hand smoothing lovingly the bowed head, or pressing
+fondly the girlish cheeks.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 gate of
+Heaven. This tribute to the Saviour 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 so painfully uttered;
+“You—will—care—and—comfort——”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_282'>282</span>
+ <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XVIII.<br> <span class='c009'>THE BURDEN.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='c010'>
+ <img class='drop-capi' src='images/di_282.jpg' width='100' alt=''>
+</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
+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
+staid.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“She’d be <i>vummed</i>,” 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 object of her wrath was, it may
+be, more than half repenting of his decision to stay,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_283'>283</span>inasmuch as he began to have an unpleasant consciousness
+of being in everybody’s way.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“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
+staid if a whole regiment of Mrs. Noahs had confronted
+him instead of one.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Maddy wished it; that was reason enough for him;
+and giving a few directions to John, he staid, thereby
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_284'>284</span>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, criticising all their movements, as they vainly
+fancied he was. 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, and 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 class='c011'>To Maddy there came no definite thought of the
+future during the two days that white, rigid form lay
+in the 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
+mourners, had driven away, taking both Guy and Mrs.
+Noah—when the neighbors, too, had gone, leaving
+only herself and the little girl who had been hired as
+help sitting by the fire, with the grandfather and the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_285'>285</span>imbecile Uncle Joseph—then it was that she first
+began to feel the pressure of the burden—began to
+ask herself if she could live thus always, or at least for
+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 class='c011'>As if divining her thoughts, the poor old grandfather,
+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 crazy way,
+took up the theme, begging like a very child that
+Maddy might be inclined to stay—that no young man
+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 substance of Uncle
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_286'>286</span>Joseph’s 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 class='c011'>With the 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, and 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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>With a half shudder, Maddy drew a stool to her
+grandfather’s feet, and resting her head upon his
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_287'>287</span>knee, listened while he talked to her of the future,
+and 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>I</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! stay with me, stay with
+me!—stay with your old grandpa!”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 then was a stranger to the religion
+which was sustaining her grandfather in his great
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_288'>288</span>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 to Honedale 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 her thoughts
+went backward to that night ride in the snow-storm,
+and the numberless attentions he had paid then. She
+should 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 class='c011'>Surely Heaven would answer the blessings which
+the delighted old man whispered over the young girl,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_289'>289</span>taking so cheerfully the burden from which many
+would have shrunk.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>With her grandfather’s hand upon her head,
+Maddy could almost feel that the blessing was descending;
+but in her own little room, 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 class='c011'>“Oh, is there no way to escape, no help?” she
+moaned, as she tossed from side to side. “Must my
+life be wasted here? Surely——”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_290'>290</span>an earnest, childish prayer, that God would help her
+do right; 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 other’s 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 class='c011'>Aikenside, and school, and the Catskill mountains
+were easier to abandon after that prayer; but when
+she thought of <i>Guy</i>, 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 <i>Guy</i> should not forsake her.
+“Let him come,” she sobbed, “let Guy come sometimes
+to see me.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_291'>291</span>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 seemed blended into one great good, just within
+her reach, and when the long clock below stairs struck
+three she did not hear it, but with the tear-stains
+upon her face she lay nestled among the pillows,
+dreaming that her grandmother had come back from
+the bright world of glory to bless her darling child.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+fire-place, 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_292'>292</span>been. During her grandmother’s illness, Maddy’s
+room had been left to the care of the hired girl,
+Nettie, and 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
+<i>Flora’s</i> 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 class='c011'>“Flora,” she exclaimed, “how came you here, and
+did you make this fire, and arrange the room for
+me?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 fit for you to be
+sleeping with her. Mr. Remington was angry enough
+when he found it out.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Mr. Remington, Flora? How should he know of
+our sleeping arrangements?” Maddy asked, but Flora
+evaded a direct reply, saying, “There were enough
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_293'>293</span>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 nearly noon, and you must be hungry.
+I’ve got your breakfast all ready.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Thank you, Flora, I can dress myself,” Maddy
+said, stepping out upon the floor, and feeling that the
+world was not so dark as it had seemed to her when
+last night she came up to her chamber.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“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. Remington’s work. He thought
+I’d better come, as you would need help to get things
+set to rights, so you could go back to school.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Maddy felt her heart coming up in her throat,
+but she answered calmly, “Mr. Remington is very
+kind—so are you all; but, Flora, I am not going back
+to school.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Not going back!” and Flora stopped her bed
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_294'>294</span>making, while she stared blankly at Maddy. “What
+are you going to do?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Stay here and take care of grandpa,” Maddy
+aid, bathing her face and neck in the cold water,
+which could not cool the feverish heat she felt spreading
+all over them.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Stay here! You are crazy, Miss Maddy! ’Tain’t
+no place for a girl like you, and Mr. Remington 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.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>The kitchen was in perfect order, for Flora had
+been busy there as elsewhere. The kettle was boiling
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_295'>295</span>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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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 to every
+one. 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, where the rag carpet and
+the six cane-seated chairs and the Boston rocker were
+kept, 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 class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_296'>296</span>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, and telling
+her she looked tired and thin; then making her take
+the chair he had vacated, he stood over her, while he
+continued:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>He kept talking, 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 Guy was doing great violence to his pride by
+being there as he was, but he could do anything for
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_297'>297</span>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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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. He talked
+of Jessie, of Aikenside, of the pleasant time they
+would have during the vacation, and of the next term
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_298'>298</span>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, where
+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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_299'>299</span>the domestic arrangements, and if it seemed desirable,
+two should be procured; anything to leave Maddy
+free.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“He thinks it best. When he comes back you can
+ask him yourself,” he said, just as Uncle Joseph
+opened the door and brought their interview to a
+close by asking very meekly, “If it would please the
+Lord Governor to let him <i>spit</i>!”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>The blood rushed at once to Maddy’s face, and she
+could not repress a smile, while 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 very slyly he asked Flora if
+the Lord Governor had brought his things?</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>At this point Grandpa Markham came in, and to
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_300'>300</span>him Guy appealed at once to know if he were not
+willing for Maddy to return to school.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I said she might if she thought best,” was the
+reply, spoken so sadly that Maddy’s arms were at once
+twined round the old man’s neck, while she said
+to him:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 at home.
+Say, grandpa, which do you prefer?” and Maddy tried
+to speak playfully, though her heart-beats were almost
+audible as she waited for the answer.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Grandpa could not deceive her. “He wanted his
+darling sorely, and he wanted her to be happy,” he
+said. Perhaps they could 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 staid with
+her old grandpa to the last?</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>He looked very pale and thin, and his hair was
+as 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 class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_301'>301</span>“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
+hold on him her resolution would give way.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>It was in vain that Guy strove to change Maddy’s
+decision, 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 class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_302'>302</span>
+ <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XIX.<br> <span class='c009'>LIFE AT THE COTTAGE.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='c010'>
+ <img class='drop-capi' src='images/di_302.jpg' width='100' alt=''>
+</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
+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 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 class='c011'>During the vacation Jessie spent a part of the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_303'>303</span>time with her, but Agnes resolutely resisted all Guy’s
+entreaties that she should at least call 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 go
+up to Aikenside. Agnes would not go to Honedale
+neither would she give other reasons for the obstinacy
+than the apparently foolish one that she did not wish
+to see a crazy man, as such things made her nervous.
+Still, she did not object to Jessie’s going as often as
+she liked, and she sent by her many little delicacies
+from 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.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_304'>304</span>were resting on her bright face, or her voice was less
+cheerful in its tone; and care for the imbecile Joseph,
+who clung to her as a 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 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 asleep. Then if he woke, 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 class='c011'>Those were dark, wearisome hours to Maddy, and
+when 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,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_305'>305</span>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 often 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, a life with him
+would be far preferable to the life she was living, and
+a receipt of his letters always gave her a pang which
+lasted until <i>Guy</i> 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
+<i>Sarah</i>, describing her as she was now, and not as she
+used to be when he knew her. “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
+<i>one</i> fashionable woman such as she fancied Sarah
+might be, told him of <i>Agnes Remington</i>, describing
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_306'>306</span>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, poor Maddy, are
+doing for me what it should have been her place to do?
+Had I a voice,” and the crazy man would grow 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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>The pillow which Agnes pressed that night was
+wet with tears, while in her heart was planted a germ
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_307'>307</span>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 he could
+have borne 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 class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_308'>308</span>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
+young Remington, who, everybody knew, was engaged
+to somebody in England.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“Of course he won’t. He knows what he is about.
+He is not green enough to marry Grandpa Markham’s
+daughter; and if she don’t look out, she’ll get herself
+into a pretty scrape. It don’t look well, anyhow, for
+her to be putting on airs, as she has done ever since
+big folks took her up.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>All this and much more was said, and by the time
+the patchwork quilt was done, there remained but
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_309'>309</span>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 class='c011'>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 by 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 again as he had done were fearfully small
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_310'>310</span>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 class='c011'>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 was not; that unless she
+wanted to be ruined <i>teetotally</i>, and lose all her friends,
+she must contrive to stop his visits, and not see him so
+much.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 rose to
+go, laid her motherly hand on Maddy’s head, saying
+kindly:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_311'>311</span>“Poor child, it’s hard to bear now, but you’ll get
+over it in time.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>She almost felt that she was dying, 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 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 her
+implicitly, and who, in her last letter, had said:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>There was in Lucy’s heart a faint stirring of fear
+lest Maddy Clyde might be a shadow in her pathway,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_312'>312</span>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, 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 came
+and went in 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 for 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_313'>313</span>betray her real feelings toward him. He had been
+there that day; he would come again to-morrow, and
+she could see him just as he would look coming up the
+walk, easy and self-possessed, confident of his reception,
+his handsome face beaming 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 there. But the victory was gained at
+last, and strength imparted for the task she had to do.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Going to the table she opened her portfolio, the
+gift of Guy, and 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, who was 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,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_314'>314</span>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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>So Flora left her, 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 awoke the pain in her temples was still there;
+she could not rise, and was 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 there 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 class='c011'>“I can’t see him, Flora,” Maddy said, when the
+latter came up with the message that Mr. Remington
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_315'>315</span>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, ignorant, meddlesome
+neighbors, who had dared to talk of him, or to breathe
+a suspicious word against Maddy Clyde. 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 class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_316'>316</span>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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>That roused Guy’s pride, and writing back:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“You shall be obeyed. Good-bye!”—he sprang
+into his buggy, and Maddy heard him as he drove
+furiously away.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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, and making 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 staid away, she was ready to step in; so she
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_317'>317</span>came laden with sympathy and other more substantial
+comforts brought from Aikenside.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 that “he had gone to
+Boston, and it was so stupid at home without him.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_318'>318</span>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 class='c011'>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 ached so with fear lest
+she should choose to go back and leave him to a
+stranger. “But my darling staid with her old
+grandpa. She’ll never be sorry for it. 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 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_319'>319</span>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 staid
+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 class='c011'>“Oh, grandpa, grandpa!” Maddy moaned, laying
+her head beside his own on the pillow.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>Maddy’s heart leaped 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_320'>320</span>love, made her giddy with joy. But it could not be,
+and she answered through her tears:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I shall tell him No.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“God bless my Maddy! You 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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>But her grandfather’s whispered blessings brought
+comfort with them, and a calm quiet fell upon her as
+she sat listening to the words of prayer, catching now
+and then her own name and that of Guy’s.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I am drowsy, Maddy. Watch while I sleep.
+Perhaps I’ll never wake again,” grandpa said, and
+clasping Maddy’s hands he went to sleep while
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_321'>321</span>Maddy kept her watch beside him, until she too fell
+into a troubled sleep, from which she was roused by a
+clammy hand pressing on her forehead, and Uncle
+Joseph’s voice, which said:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Wake, my child. There’s been a guest here
+while you slumbered,” and he pointed to the rigid
+features of the dead.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_322'>322</span>
+ <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XX.<br> <span class='c009'>THE BURDEN GROWS HEAVIER.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='c010'>
+ <img class='drop-capi' src='images/di_322.jpg' width='100' alt=''>
+</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
+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 class='c011'>“Very well; is grandpa getting better?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Then Mrs. Noah sat with her for a time, fanning
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_323'>323</span>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 her sundry little pills and
+powders, 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
+she meant, or why she used that word, only it seemed
+to her that Jessie had just come back from somebody’s
+grave, and she asked if Guy was there.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“No,” Jessie said; “mother wanted to write and
+tell him, but we don’t know where he is.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_324'>324</span>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, pallid face still to be seen in the
+room below, or had they buried him from her sight?
+She would know, and with a strange kind of nervous
+strength she rose, 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—a 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 bed-room 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_325'>325</span>Joseph, where is he? Can he too have died without
+my knowledge?” and she looked around in vain for
+the lunatic, not a trace of whom was to be found.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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, and Maddy
+could see the head-stones 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 hat, 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_326'>326</span>reached. There were 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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>She could get no further, 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 class='c011'>“Oh, grandpa, I’m so lonely without you all;
+I almost wish I was lying here in the quiet yard.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Then a storm of tears ensued, after which Maddy
+grew calm, and with her head still bent down did not
+hear the rapid step coming down the grassy road,
+past the marble tomb-stones, to where she was crouching
+upon the ground. There it stopped, and in a half
+whisper some one called, “Maddy! Maddy!”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Then she started, and lifting up her head saw
+before her Guy Remington. For a moment she
+regarded him intently, while he said to her, kindly,
+pityingly:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_327'>327</span>“Poor child, you have suffered so much, and I
+never knew of it till a few days ago.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“Oh, Guy, Guy, where have you been, when I
+wanted you so much?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Maddy did not know what she was saying, or half
+comprehend the effect it had on Guy, who forgot
+everything save that she 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 to resist,
+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 class='c011'>“Darling Maddy,” he said, “I went away because
+you sent me, but now I have come back, and nothing
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_328'>328</span>shall part us again. You are mine, I claim you here
+at your mother’s grave. Dear Maddy, I did not know
+of all this till three days ago, when Agnes’s letter found
+me almost at the Rocky Mountains. Then 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 class='c011'>He was smoothing her hair, 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, that she was there in Guy’s arms, with his
+kisses on her forehead, lips and cheek, his words of
+love 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, whoso
+place she had usurped, and this it was which brought
+the grieved expression to her face as she answered
+mournfully:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I did want you, Guy, when I forgot; but now—oh,
+Guy—Lucy Atherstone!”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>With a gesture of impatience Guy was about to
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_329'>329</span>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, who had 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,
+which showed so plainly how hard it had been driven.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>They carried Maddy again into her little chamber,
+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 arm-chair, the cook-stove,
+the tongs, Mrs. Noah and Flora, and timidly
+offering to kiss the Lord Governor himself, as he persisted
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_330'>330</span>in calling Guy, who declined the honor, but listened
+quietly to the crazy man’s promise “not to to spit
+the smallest kind of a spit on the floor, or anywhere
+except in its proper place.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_331'>331</span>an engagement so irksome as his had become. He
+had neglected to answer Agnes’s letters when he first
+left home, and she did not know where he was until
+a short time before his return, when she wrote apprising
+him of grandpa’s death and Maddy’s severe illness.
+This brought him at once, and 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 constantly, 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 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;
+crying often, “Help me, Father, to do my duty, and
+give me, too, a greater inclination to do it than I now
+possess.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_332'>332</span>Maddy’s heart failed her sometimes, and she might
+have yielded to the temptation but for a letter from
+Lucy, full of eager anticipations of the time when she
+should see Guy, never to part again.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Sometimes,” she wrote, “there comes over me a
+dark foreboding of evil—a fear that I shall miss the
+cup now just 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 class='c011'>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, so old, yet always new
+to him who tells it and to her who listens, the 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; the story which made Guy himself
+pant nervously and tremble like a leaf, so earnestly
+he told her how long he had loved her, of the
+picture withheld, the jealousy he felt each time the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_333'>333</span>doctor named her, the selfish joy he experienced when
+he heard the doctor was refused; 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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_334'>334</span>knew there was no hope, and, man though he was,
+bowed his head upon Maddy’s hands and wept
+stormily, with 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 was so white and still that Guy roused
+himself to care for her, thinking of nothing then
+except to make her better.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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, and be to her
+what a husband should be; and he had listened while
+she talked of another world, where they neither marry
+or are given in marriage, and where it would not be
+sinful for them to love each other, and as she talked
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_335'>335</span>her face had shone like the face of an angel. He had
+hold one of her hands at parting, bending low his head,
+while she laid the other on it as she blessed him, letting
+her fingers thread his soft brown hair for a
+moment 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 class='c011'>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:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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. I am going to England
+in a few weeks, or as soon as Maddy is better, and before
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_336'>336</span>the sun of this year sets I shall be a married
+man.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>After this all Mrs. Noah’s influence was in favor of
+Maddy, and the good lady made 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 started
+for England the latter part of October, as unhappy
+and unwilling a bridegroom, it may be, as ever went
+after a bride.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_337'>337</span>
+ <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXI.<br> <span class='c009'>THE INTERVAL BEFORE THE MARRIAGE.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='c010'>
+ <img class='drop-capi' src='images/di_337.jpg' width='100' alt=''>
+</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
+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 class='c011'>At last there came to her three letters, one from
+Lucy, one from the doctor, and one from Guy himself.
+She opened Lucy’s first, and read of the sweet girl’s
+great happiness in seeing Guy again, of her sorrow to
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_338'>338</span>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, so fiercely it
+throbbed and ached with anguish. She was out in the
+woods when she read the letter, and laying her face in
+the grass she sobbed as she never sobbed before.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>The doctor’s letter was opened next, and Maddy
+read with blinding tears that which for a moment increased
+her pain and sent to her 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 Guy, and to Lucy’s sister
+Margaret.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Maggie, I call her,” he wrote, “because that
+name is so much like my first love, Maddy, the little
+girl who thought 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 everything,
+and though I doubly respect you now, I cannot
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_339'>339</span>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 class='c011'>This almost killed Maddy; she did not love the
+doctor, but the knowledge that he was to be married
+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 leafless 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 class='c011'>There was Guy’s letter yet to read, and with a
+listless indifference she opened it at last and was glad
+that he made no direct reference to the past except
+when 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,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_340'>340</span>brilliant girl, the veriest tease and mad-cap in the
+world, and the exact opposite of Maddy.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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. The wound was very serious, he said, and
+fever might ensue. 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 staid altogether
+at the cottage, and who, as Guy’s sister, was a
+great comfort to Maddy.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>As the fever which the doctor had predicted, increased,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_341'>341</span>and Uncle Joseph grew more and more delirious,
+his cries for Sarah were heart-rending, making
+Jessie weep bitterly, as she said to Maddy:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“If I knew where this Sarah was I’d go miles on
+foot to find her and bring her to him.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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, supposing she
+could be found.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Perhaps,” and Agnes brushed abstractedly her
+long flowing hair, winding it around her fingers, and
+then letting the soft curls fall across her snowy arms.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 bed-time.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>The next morning Agnes’s 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 class='c011'>“Jessie,” she said, as they sat together at their
+breakfast, “I am going to Honedale to-day to see
+Maddy, and shall leave you here, as I do not care to
+have us both absent.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Jessie demurred a little at first, but finally yielded,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_342'>342</span>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 should have come to see her. But Agnes’s
+business was with 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 casting her eyes
+rapidly from one part of the room to another, resting
+now upon the tinware hanging on the wall, and now
+upon the gourd swimming in the water-pail which
+stood 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 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
+changed in various ways. 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_343'>343</span>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 class='c011'>“You look tired and sick,” she said. “Your cares
+have been too much for you. Let me sit by your
+uncle till he wakes, and you go up to bed.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 back room of the house, was busy with her ironing.
+Thus there was no one to see 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 <i>her</i>, 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, as she
+watched him and smothered the cry of pain which rose
+to her lips at sight of him, felt that for the fearful
+change in him she was answerable. Intellectual,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_344'>344</span>talented, admired, and sought by all he had been
+once; he was a mere wreck now, and Agnes’s breath
+came in short, quick gasps as, glancing furtively round
+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 class='c011'>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 class='c011'>“Who are you, lady, with eyes and hair like
+<i>hers</i>?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I’m the ‘madam,’ from Aikenside,” Agnes said,
+quite loud, 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 class='c011'>The truth 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 without 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_345'>345</span>costly diamonds which flashed upon him the rainbow
+hues, he said:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Where’s that little bit of a ring <i>I</i> bought for
+you?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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, she said:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Here it is. Do you remember it?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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. 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 class='c011'>His arm was round 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 him, and she let him caress her hair, and
+wind it around his fingers, whispering:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“This is like Sarah’s, and you are Sarah, are you
+not?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Yes, I am Sarah,” she answered, while the smile
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_346'>346</span>so painful to see again broke 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 class='c011'>“There’s something wrong,” he said; “somebody
+is dead, and it 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 class='c011'>“I am his step-mother,” Agnes replied, whereupon
+Uncle Joseph laughed so long and loud that Maddy
+woke, and, alarmed by the noise, came down to see
+what was the matter.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“You heard his name was Remington, did you
+not?—James Remington?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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, said, questioningly:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“You are Sarah Morris?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_347'>347</span>“Yes, I <i>was</i> Sarah Agnes Morris; once, when a
+mere child, I was for three months your grandmother’s
+hired girl, and afterwards 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 class='c011'>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:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Neither Guy nor Jessie, nor any one, need know
+what I have told you.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 towards Maddy, while, if it were possible,
+something of her olden love was revived 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, 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_348'>348</span>so gay a lady at Uncle Joseph’s bedside, attributing it
+all to her friendship for Maddy, just as they attributed
+his calling for 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, and if she was happy with the old man
+whom she married, and who they had heard was not
+so rich after all, as most of the money belonged to
+the son, who inherited it from his mother; but Maddy
+kept the secret from every one, so that even Jessie
+never suspected why her mother staid day after day
+at the cottage; watching and waiting until the last
+day of Joseph’s life.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>She was alone with him when he died, and
+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:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“He is dead; he died in my arms, blessing you
+and me. Surely my sin is now forgiven.”</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_349'>349</span>
+ <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXII.<br> <span class='c009'>BEFORE THE BRIDAL.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='c010'>
+ <img class='drop-capi' src='images/di_349.jpg' width='100' alt=''>
+</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
+There was a fresh grave made in the churchyard,
+and another chair vacant at the cottage,
+where Maddy was at last alone. Unfettered
+by care and anxiety for sick ones, her aching
+heart was free to go to the stately 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 leafless
+October woods, Maddy had not heard from Guy
+directly, though Lucy had written 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_350'>350</span>prove the last she should receive from Lucy Atherstone.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 intended for Guy’s young bride; but Mrs.
+Noah guessed it all, and pitied 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 class='c011'>“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 she’s a triflin’ thing, and
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_351'>351</span>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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>Yes, Mrs. Noah knew it; but she hoped it might
+have escaped Maddy’s mind.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Poor child,” she said again, “poor child, I mistrust
+you did wrong to tell him No!”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Oh, Mrs. Noah, don’t say 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 knew how
+wretched I am!” and Maddy hid her face in the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_352'>352</span>broad, motherly lap, sobbing so wildly that Mrs. Noah
+was greatly perplexed how to act, or what to say.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+now, 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 bitterly
+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 class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_353'>353</span>hope of leaving her burden there, of praying her pain
+away. Would Mrs. Noah leave her awhile, and see
+that no one came?</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 class='c011'>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 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 nine she called Mrs. Noah
+to her and whispered faintly:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“They were to be married before twelve, you
+know, so it was over two hours ago, and Guy is lost
+forever!”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_354'>354</span>to whisper incoherently, as she half slumbered, half
+woke:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Did Guy think of me, when he promised to love
+her, and does he, can he see how miserable I am?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Maddy was indeed passing through deep waters,
+and the day and the night of the fourth of December
+were the longest, dreariest she ever knew, and 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 class='c011'>“You look as if you had been with the angels.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Guy was not expected with his bride for two or
+three weeks, 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—and
+when 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_355'>355</span>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 class='c011'>“We’ve heard from Mr. Guy; the ship is in;
+they’ll be here to-night, and Mrs. Noah is turnin’
+things upside down with the dinner.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 hot-house, and told her to guess who
+was coming.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I know; Tom told me; Guy is coming with
+Lucy,” Maddy answered, and relieving herself from
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_356'>356</span>Jessie, she turned to Agnes, asking where Mrs. Noah
+was, and if she might go to her for a moment.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>“I did not know it, or I should not have come,”
+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?”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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='c010'>“The steamer is in. Shall be at the station at five
+o’clock <span class='fss'>P. M.</span></p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“<span class='sc'>Guy Remington.</span>”</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>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 class='c011'>“At five o’clock. I must go before that,” she
+said, sighing as she remembered how, one year ago
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_357'>357</span>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 to Honedale, 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 class='c011'>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:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Welcome to the bride.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>They were laying the table for dinner now, and
+with a kind of dizzy, uncertain feeling, Maddy
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_358'>358</span>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,
+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 round
+the buggy.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_359'>359</span>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 class='c011'>One long, sad, wistful look at Guy’s and Lucy’s
+home, and Maddy followed Charlie to the buggy waiting
+for her, and bade him drive rapidly, as there was
+every indication of a coming storm.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_360'>360</span>match, watched the blue flame as it gradually licked
+up the smoke and burst into a cheerful blaze.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“I shall feel better when it’s warm,” she said,
+crouching over the fire, and shivering with more than
+bodily cold.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>There was a kind of nameless terror stealing over
+her as she sat thinking of the years ago when the
+inmates of three graves across the meadow were there
+beneath that very roof where she now sat alone.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 class='c011'>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 in her pleasant room she
+made her toilet for dinner, with Guy standing by and
+looking on. 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_361'>361</span>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 <i>Maddy</i> 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 class='c011'>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 bed-room, and
+placing it upon the chair, sat down again upon
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_362'>362</span>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 the horse of a
+stranger, who went back on foot to where the cottage
+lamp shone a beacon light through the inky darkness.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 rose to her feet just as the
+door turned upon its hinges, letting in a powerful
+draught of wind which extinguished the light, and
+left her in total darkness.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 towards her had been the footsteps
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_363'>363</span>of the dead, instead of belonging, as she knew
+they did, to Guy Remington—who, with garments saturated
+with rain, felt for her in the darkness, and
+found her where from faintness she had crouched
+again beside the chair, and drawing her closely to him
+in a passionate, almost painful embrace, said, so tenderly,
+so lovingly:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Maddy, my darling, my own! We shall never
+be parted again.”</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_364'>364</span>
+ <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXIII.<br> <span class='c009'>LUCY.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='c010'>
+ <img class='drop-capi' src='images/di_364.jpg' width='100' alt=''>
+</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
+Hours went by, and the hands of the clock
+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 <i>Lucy</i>, his wife, and Guy had answered her,
+“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 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 seen her look since he reached her mother’s
+home; how for an hour they sat together alone in a
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_365'>365</span>little room sacred to her, because years before it was
+there he confessed his love.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 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
+and still, her neck and dress and golden hair stained
+with the pale life-blood oozing from her livid lips.
+A blood-vessel had been suddenly ruptured, the physician
+said, adding that it was what he had been fearing
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_366'>366</span>for some time, and now it had come—and there was
+no hope. They told her she must die, for the mother
+would have them tell her. Once, for a few moments,
+there was on her face a 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:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“God knows best what is right. Poor Guy!—break
+it gently to him.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>At this point in the story Guy broke down entirely,
+sobbing as only strong men can sob.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“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 the 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 glad. 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 afterwards as I stood by my dying
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_367'>367</span>Lucy. I saw how good, how sweet she was, and
+something of the old 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 do so. 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 would not be jealous if
+you sometimes talked of your dead Lucy, and I know
+she will help lead you 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 to-night. I could
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_368'>368</span>not remain there, knowing you were here alone, even
+though some old fogies might say it was not proper—God
+knows what is in my heart. 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 class='c011'>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 sat talking 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 man 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 class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_369'>369</span>
+ <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXIV.<br> <span class='c009'>FINALE.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='c010'>
+ <img class='drop-capi' src='images/di_369.jpg' width='100' alt=''>
+</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
+It is 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 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; and stifling her own
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_370'>370</span>grief, Maddy 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; and, save that she missed her
+husband terribly, she was not lonely, for her beautiful
+dark-eyed boy, whom they called Guy, junior, kept
+her busy, while not many weeks after her husband’s
+departure, Guy read with moistened eyes of a little
+golden-haired daughter, whom Maddy had named
+Lucy Atherstone, and gazed upon a curl of hair she
+inclosed, asking if it were not like some other hair
+now moldering back to dust within an English
+churchyard. “Maggie says it is,” she wrote, alluding
+to the wife of Dr. Holbrook, who had come to Aikenside
+to stay, while her husband also 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 sits neglected on the nursery floor, while her
+mother and Jessie and Maggie Holbrook 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_371'>371</span>is disabled, and so he has been discharged, and has
+come 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, for she had hoped her
+husband would 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 class='c011'>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
+wished she was a boy, so she could enlist, how nicely
+Flora is married and settled at the cottage in Honedale,
+and then asks if he knows anything of the Confederate
+Colonel to whom just before the war broke
+out her mother was married, and whose home was in
+Richmond.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'><span class='pageno' id='Page_372'>372</span>Guy knows nothing of <i>him</i>, except that he is still
+fighting for the Confederacy, but from exchanged
+prisoners, who had come in 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 to all, and
+once binding up a drummer boy’s aching head with a
+handkerchief, which he still retained as a memento of
+her, and on whose corner could be faintly traced the
+name of “Agnes Remington.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>Jessie’s eyes are full of tears as she says:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Dear mamma. 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 so very bad,” 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 class='c011'>Good Mrs. Noah! The ancient man, whose name
+she bore, would as soon have thought of leaving the
+Ark, as she of turning 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
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_373'>373</span>“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 wanted the south
+to beat. With the exception of Maddy, no one was
+more pleased to see Guy than herself. He was <i>her
+boy</i>, the one she brought up, and with a mother’s
+fervor she kissed his bronzed cheek, and told him how
+glad she was to have him back.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>With his boy on his sound arm, Guy disengaged
+himself from the noisy group and went with Maddy
+to where the child he had never seen was just beginning
+to show signs of resentment at being left so long
+alone.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Lulu, sissy, papa’s come; this is papa,” the little
+boy cried, assuming the honor of the introduction.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>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 fancy or not, Guy thought it beamed upon him
+again in the infantile features of his little girl. Parting
+lovingly her yellow curls and kissing her fair
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_374'>374</span>cheek, he said to Maddy softly, just as he always
+spoke of <i>that</i> dead one:</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Yes, darling, Margaret Holbrook is right—our
+baby daughter is very much like our dear lost Lucy
+Atherstone.”</p>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c002'>
+ <div>THE END.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c003'>
+</div>
+<div class='chapter ph2'>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c004'>
+ <div><span class='large'>POPULAR NOVELS</span></div>
+ <div class='c003'><span class='small'>BY</span></div>
+ <div class='c003'>MRS. MARY J. HOLMES.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Tempest and Sunshine.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>English Orphans.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Homestead on Hillside.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>’Lena Rivers.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Meadow Brook.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Dora Deane.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Cousin Maude.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Marian Grey.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Edith Lyle.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Daisy Thornton.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Chateau d’Or.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Queenie Hetherton.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Bessie’s Fortune.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Marguerite.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Mrs. Hallam’s Companion.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>The Tracy Diamonds.</span> (<i>New.</i>)</div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Darkness and Daylight.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Hugh Worthington.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Cameron Pride.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Rose Mather.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Ethelyn’s Mistake.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Milbank.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Edna Browning.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>West Lawn.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Mildred.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Forrest House.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Madeline.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Christmas Stories.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Gretchen.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Dr. Hathern’s Daughters.</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Paul Ralston.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+ <div class='nf-center'>
+ <div>“Mrs. Holmes is a peculiarly pleasant and fascinating writer. Her books are always entertaining, and she has the rare faculty of enlisting the sympathy and affections of her readers, and of holding their attention to her pages with deep and absorbing interest.”</div>
+ <div class='c002'>Handsomely bound in cloth. Price, $1.00 each, and sent <i>free</i> by mail on receipt of price.</div>
+ <div class='c003'>G. W. Dillingham Co., Publishers</div>
+ <div>NEW YORK.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>THE MONEY SENSE.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>John Strange Winter</span>. Is a book which must stand unique
+in modern literature because the character of Angelique Dodsworth,
+the heroine, is an original conception. She was a charming
+creature, with the sense of the value of money very imperfectly
+developed. The story of her going to London from her
+humble home at Beech Croft, and eventually marrying a title,
+is fascinating in both plot and style. It is a first-class story.
+Cloth bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>$1.25</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>FATHER ANTHONY.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Robert Buchanan</span>. “One of the most touching and dramatic
+stories ever written in connection with Irish life. It
+is a heart-stirring story; and it is the more attractive because
+Mr. Buchanan writes of Irish life from personal knowledge,
+and describes places and people with which, and with whom,
+he has had a long familiarity. Father John is a typical Irish
+character. Mr. Buchanan has never conceived a more finely-drawn
+character than Father Anthony. The book can be
+heartily commended to all classes of readers.”—<cite>London
+Weekly Sun.</cite> Ten editions have been sold in London. Cloth
+bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>THE SONG OF THE SWORD, a Romance of 1796.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Leo Ditrichstein</span>. This author needs no introduction to
+the public. In this thrilling story he displays a perfect wealth
+of plots and critical situations. It is an excellent work, fine
+and subtle, with many exciting scenes. A spirit of chivalrous
+romance exudes from each chapter. There is in fact an odor
+of romance all about it. The work spent on the central figures
+is splendid, and the entire book satisfies the demand for combined
+entertainment and interest in a historical novel. Cloth
+bound. Illustrated.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>WIDOW MAGOOGIN.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>John J. Jennings</span>. The inimitable Irish widow’s philosophy
+on the topics of the day, spoken in her own dialect, is wonderfully
+funny. As a critic the “Irish widow” touches upon
+the foibles of fads and fashions with masterly sarcasm, and
+Mr. Jennings, in his art, has characterized her with skilful
+touches true to nature. Cloth bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.25</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>MATTHEW DOYLE.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Will Garland</span>. This is a powerful story, and one with an
+object. The vital question of lynching is its theme, and arguments
+on both sides of the subject are ably set forth. The
+author has written with spirit and drawn his characters with
+firm and clear strokes. It is original, exciting, and shows
+clearly the true position of the negro in the south, in an unprejudicial
+manner. It is a great book. Cloth bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.25</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>CONGRESSMAN HARDIE.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Courtney Wellington</span>. A self-made man, and a thorough
+democrat like Congressman Hardie, will always be an interesting
+character, and one that appeals to all genuine Americans.
+The romance pervading the pages of the book is a
+delicate one, and skilfully interwoven with the various political
+events. The heroine is an original conception on the part
+of the writer, and we see her in some phases of city life not
+before portrayed in romance. Cloth bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.25</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>AMY WARREN.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>A. Sydney Logan</span>. Author of “Not on the Chart.” The
+appeal of this story lies in its naturalness. The hero, Harold
+Littleton, is not an impossible conception, but a real man of
+flesh and blood, faults and virtues. A new phase of American
+country life is also set forth with great fidelity. The worth
+of this book to the average reader is in the immediate refreshment
+and absolute change of ideas he can get by opening
+its pages anywhere. It contains some fine imaginative work
+and has heroic love for its theme. Cloth bound, gilt top.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>KATHARINE BARRY.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Harry Hughes</span>. The sacrifice of sentiment to religion is
+always a fascinating topic. In the case of this novel, it is
+particularly so, because of the earnestness and evident sincerity
+of the devoted young girl. She was only a farmer’s daughter,
+but she passed through most extraordinary experiences, even
+to being the medium of psychic-phenomena. It is a most interesting
+book. Cloth bound, gilt top.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.25</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>MISS HOGG; The American Heiress.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Mrs. V. C. Jones</span>. The adventures of an American girl in
+London are used as the foundation of this story. Miss Hogg
+was an uncultured heiress, bent on capturing a coronet. In
+furtherance of her plans, she uses almost desperate means,
+and places herself in very perilous situations. Her American
+wit, however, helps her safely through them all, and, at
+the close of the book she is respected and happy. Cloth
+bound, gilt top.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>INVISIBLE LIGHT; or, The Electric Theory of Creation.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>George W. Warder</span>. “He holds there are only three elemental
+substances in nature: spirit, electricity and matter.
+Matter is controlled by electricity, and electricity is controlled
+by spirit intelligence. That in discovering electricity man
+has found the working force of Deity, and uses it in all fields
+of human effort. The arguments are convincing, and the
+book attractive and entertaining.”—<cite>The Kansas City Star.</cite>
+Beautifully bound in cloth.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.25</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>GETTYSBURG, THEN AND NOW.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'><span class='sc'>The Field of American Valor.</span> By <span class='sc'>J. M. Vanderslice</span>. The
+new illustrated History of Gettysburg, where and how the
+Regiments fought and the troops they encountered. A magnificent
+Quarto Volume with 125 full page illustrations, views
+of the battle ground and the monuments now on the field.
+This magnificent volume is the best and most concise history
+of the great battle. Octavo 492 pages, Cloth bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>3.50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>THE VEIL WITHDRAWN.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Berton J. Maddux</span>. A tragic beginning makes a happy ending
+all the more agreeable. The opening pages of this entertaining
+book relate a murder, and not until the end of the story
+is the identity of the criminal established. The interest is
+chained by this sustained mystery, and its denouement is a
+total surprise. It is a spirited and most interesting work.
+Cloth bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.25</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>THE MEMOIRS OF VICTOR HUGO.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>Translated by <span class='sc'>John W. Harding</span>. “Great scenes described by
+the most vivid word-artist of the century.”—<cite>New York World.</cite>
+“Full of the most characteristic bits, sentences or whole
+paragraphs that no one but Hugo could have written.”—<cite>New
+York Times Saturday Review.</cite> Cloth bound, gilt top.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>2.50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>RISING FORTUNES.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>John Oxenham</span>. Author of “The Princess of Vascovy,”
+“God’s Prisoner,” etc. The London advent of two poor, but
+talented young Scotchmen from the country, is the foundation
+of this splendid story. Their various adventures are
+carefully depicted in a manner that rivets the attention, and
+nothing is overdrawn. In this lies the charm of the book,
+rendering it beyond compare with stories of its class. The
+writer is gifted, and the work sure to meet a cordial reception.
+Cloth bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>THE DEGENERATION OF DOROTHY.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Frank Kinsella</span>. This story is extraordinarily clever, and
+will please the honest reader in search of something unusual.
+The theme is the transfusion of blood and its wonderful effect
+upon character. Poor helpless Dorothy had to degenerate,
+but happily, science explained the phenomenon. The writer
+has produced a fascinating and original book, and one lays
+it down with the earnest desire to read more from the same
+pen. Cloth bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>THE BOND OF BLACK.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Wm. Le Queux</span>. This is another charming and spell-binding
+story by the wonderfully successful author of “If Sinners
+Entice Thee,” “The Day of Temptation,” etc., and is one of
+the best novels of the year. Cloth bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>DON COSME.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>T. H. Tyndale</span>. The author here introduces us to a wealthy
+Southern family. The favorite daughter loves an alleged
+Mexican, Don Cosme, who is proven to have colored blood in
+his veins. The scene of the girl spurning him at the altar is
+very impressive and dramatic. It is an unsavory incident,
+but one fraught with significance. There is unlimited food
+for thought throughout the book, which should especially appeal
+to Southerners. The essential idea of the work is treated
+with great force and fulness. Cloth bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.25</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>JACK CREWS.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Martha Frye Boggs</span>. A brilliant new novel, dedicated to
+the railroad engineers of America, one of whom is the hero
+of the story. The plot is well sustained, the hero an impressive
+character. The book is full of action, it is dramatic and
+will hold the reader’s attention to the end. Cloth bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>THE FUNNY SIDE OF POLITICS.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>George S. Hilton</span>. Nothing has ever been written like this
+book. It gives many amusing stories told in the House and
+Senate in Washington. The book is replete with anecdotes of
+many living politicians. Their names are given, as well as
+the occasion which called forth the stories. Third edition.
+Cloth bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.25</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>THE SLAVE OF THE LAMP.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Henry Seton Merriman</span>. Author of “The Sowers,”
+“Young Mistley,” “Dross,” etc. There is a ring and thrill
+to this story due in part to its unusual theme. It is written
+with all the characteristic power of the author, and will meet
+a tremendous sale. Illustrated and Cloth bound, gilt top.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>THE SACRIFICE OF SILENCE.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Edouard Rod</span>. Translated by <span class='sc'>John W. Harding</span>. M. Rod
+shows, with consummate art and in two widely contrasting
+examples, that silence under certain conditions constitutes a
+heroic sacrifice, so generous in its abnegation, and in one case,
+in which the unblemished reputation of a wife and mother is
+involved, so unflinchingly steadfast, as to impart a character
+of nobleness and grandeur to the sin of prohibited love and
+its inevitable accompaniments, lying, deceit and hypocrisy.
+Cloth bound, gilt top.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>A PRINCESS OF VASCOVY.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>John Oxenham</span>. Author of “God’s Prisoner.” A story
+that will win thousands of admirers. It is an artistic conception;
+a true romance, which has about it a quality of real life.
+It is a dramatic tale equal in many respects to the “Prisoner
+of Zenda,” and fully as interesting. Cloth bound, gilt top.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>THE MAN WHO DARED.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>John P. Ritter</span>. Mr. Ritter has achieved a work of rare
+interest. It is a great historical picture of the time of Robespierre,
+in which fact and fancy are welded together in a fine
+realization of the spirit of the times. It has all the elements
+of a genuine romance, and is an unusually fascinating historical
+romance. Illustrated. Cloth bound, gilt top.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.25</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>THE DAY OF TEMPTATION.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Wm. Le Queux</span>. This is one of this author’s best stories.
+It is thrilling and realistic, and bears out a mystery which
+carries the reader through a labyrinth of strange experiences.
+Cloth bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>THE STORY OF THE ROUGH RIDERS.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Edward Marshall</span>. The most intensely interesting book of
+modern times. It is devoted entirely to this one famous regiment.
+It contains a <i>complete roster of the regiment</i>, and is
+profusely illustrated from photographs and drawings. Cloth
+bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>WATERS THAT PASS AWAY.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>N. B. Winston</span>. “There is a deep lesson of life to be
+learned from a book like this, and in it one may study character,
+and the infallible trend of social consequences, sorrow
+ever following sin, and sin in its turn yielding to joy when
+true repentance follows after.”—<cite>Philadelphia Item.</cite> Cloth
+bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.25</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>THE RETURN OF THE O’MAHONY.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Harold Frederic</span>. To those who have read “The Damnation
+of Theron Ware,” and “Seth’s Brother’s Wife,” there
+will be found in this extremely delightful novel, “The Return
+of the O’Mahony,” a book that will gratify the reader
+much more than any other book of the times. Illustrated, and
+with portrait of the author. Cloth bound, deckle edge, gilt
+top.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>A CHEQUE FOR THREE THOUSAND.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Arthur Henry Veysey</span>. (Tenth edition.) It’s a jolly good
+story, bright and clear. Dramatic, full of life and action and
+a brilliant farce from end to end. You cannot put it down
+until you finish it, and you will mention it many a time when
+you want to relate something novel and odd among your
+friends. Attractively bound in cloth.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.00</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>A PEDIGREE IN PAWN.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Arthur Henry Veysey</span>. Author of “A Cheque for Three
+Thousand,” which has run into its <i>seventh edition</i>. Original,
+bright, sparkling fun runs all through “A Pedigree in Pawn.”
+It will be talked about and laughed over more than any other
+book of the year. Illustrated with 14 character drawings.
+Cloth bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.25</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>HATS OFF.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Arthur Henry Veysey</span>. Author of “A Cheque for Three
+Thousand,” etc. A splendid story for summer reading. Are
+you tired, blue? Read <span class='sc'>Hats Off</span>! Do you want a story
+for the hammock? Read <span class='sc'>Hats Off</span>! Do you want a story
+with “go,” with an original plot? Read <span class='sc'>Hats Off</span>! Do you
+want to laugh? Read <span class='sc'>Hats Off</span>!</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Cloth bound. 1.25</div>
+ <div class='line'>Paper covers. 50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>THE STATEROOM OPPOSITE.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Arthur Henry Veysey</span>. Author of “A Cheque for Three
+Thousand,” etc. Is a well balanced detective story. It is
+not overdrawn as such books usually are, but full of mysterious
+and vital interest. It is a departure from Mr. Veysey’s previous
+humorous style in “A Cheque for Three Thousand,” and “A
+Pedigree in Pawn,” proving him to be a remarkably versatile
+writer. Most of the events take place on shipboard. It is a
+powerful story, with a most dramatic climax, and inimitably
+original characters.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Cloth bound. 1.25</div>
+ <div class='line'>Paper covers. 50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>CLEO THE MAGNIFICENT; or, The Muse of the Real.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Louis Zangwill</span>. <cite>The Boston Times</cite> says: “The story is
+drawn with a master hand and the characters stand forth in
+clear relief. It is in every way worthy of Mr. Zangwill’s
+reputation.” One of the best novels of the year. Cloth
+bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>THE DRONES MUST DIE.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Max Nordau</span>. <i>Sixth Edition.</i> “As purely original as if no
+other novel had ever been written. The open secret of such
+writing is that it is the result of the experience and the observation
+of one of the keenest observers—a man who exaggerates
+nothing and sets down naught in malice, but sees with
+incomparable clearness, and writes down what he sees.”—<cite>The
+Bookseller and Newsman.</cite></p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>2.00</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>TWO ODD GIRLS.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>A charming novel, by <span class='sc'>John A. Peters</span>. A bright, clever and
+interesting story is this, with a vein of humor underlying and
+running through it. The style of the novel is brilliant and
+will be read with pleasure and avidity by all who peruse its
+first page. Cloth bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>MOTHER TRUTH’S MELODIES.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Mrs. E. P. Miller</span>. A kindergarten of the most useful
+knowledge for children, 450 illustrations. “Every lover of
+children and of truth will be interested in this charming book;
+every house in the land should have a copy; it will entertain
+and instruct more truly and more sensibly than any other
+book. It is made up of simple stories in verse, the jingle of
+which may be music in the children’s ears, and the pictures a
+delight to little eyes; made in a form to attract the attention
+of the smallest children, and one to readily fix in their memory
+the stories told.” Cloth bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>THE TWENTIETH CENTURY COOK BOOK.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Mrs. C. F. Moritz</span> and <span class='sc'>Adele Kahn</span>. A modern and complete
+household cook book such as this is, since cooking has
+come to be a science no less than an art must find a welcome
+and become the most popular cook book of all the many now
+published.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'>“It can hardly be realized that there is anything worth eating
+that its receipt cannot be found in this volume. This volume
+has been carefully compiled and contains not only the receipts
+for an elaborate menu, but also the modest ones have
+been considered.”—<cite>Bookseller and Newsman.</cite> Bound in oil
+cloth, for kitchen use.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>THE WHITE DEVIL OF VERDE.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Lucie France Pierce</span>. This is a story of pure love and
+stirring action. It is crisp, bright, often thrilling and is exceptionally
+well-written, the style is clear, and the plot distinctly
+life-like. There is not a character introduced that does
+not make an immediate and successful appeal to the imagination
+of the reader. It is a delightful tale of Western life.
+Cloth bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.25</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>TRUE DETECTIVE STORIES.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>From the Pinkerton Archives. By <span class='sc'>Cleveland Moffett</span>. The
+absorbing stories told here by Mr. Moffett are statements of
+actual facts repeated without exaggeration or false coloring.
+The author, by the help of the Pinkerton Agency, has given
+the inside history of famous cases which the general public
+only know of through newspaper accounts. Cloth bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>.75</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>THE COMPLETE WORKS OF ARTEMUS WARD.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>(<span class='sc'>Charles Farrar Browne.</span>)</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>With a biographical sketch of the author by <span class='sc'>Melville D. Landon</span>.
+The present edition is of a work which has been for
+more than thirty years prominently before the public, and
+which may justly be said to have maintained a standard character.
+It is issued because of a demand for a <i>better edition</i>
+than has ever been published.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'>In order to supply this acknowledged want, the publishers have
+enlarged and perfected this edition by adding some matter
+not heretofore published in book form.</p>
+
+<p class='c013'>A large 12mo. printed from new electro plates, with 28 full page
+illustrations, and Photogravure Portrait of the author, handsomely
+bound in cloth, gilt top.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>2.00</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>AN AMERICAN CITIZEN.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Madeleine Lucette Ryley</span>. The fact that the play of “An
+American Citizen” has had the most successful run of any
+modern drama should guarantee a wide sale of this book. The
+talented and successful writer has displayed a wonderful skill
+in developing the plot, all the outlines of the play are artistically
+rounded into a complete novel, which the reader will
+find intensely interesting from the first line to the end. Cloth
+bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>THE RAINBOW FEATHER.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Fergus Hume</span>. Author of “The Mystery of a Hansom
+Cab,” “Claude Duval of Ninety-five,” etc., etc. Published
+simultaneously with the London edition. This is a wonderfully
+clever story, intensely interesting, the mystery is kept up
+to the end, and when the reader lays down the book it is with
+the satisfaction of having been fully entertained by a remarkably
+fascinating tale. Cloth bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.25</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>HOUSES OF GLASS.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Wallace Lloyd</span>, M.D. It is more important than most
+books, and deserves special attention for several reasons.
+From a purely literary standpoint it has claims, being exceedingly
+well-written, and most profoundly felt. Besides being
+founded upon philosophy, the story is firm, clear-cut, and so
+interesting as to lift the book far above the level of ordinary
+romances. Cloth bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>BEVERLY OSGOOD; or, When the Great City is Awake.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>Jane Valentine</span>. This romance sets forth New York life
+as seen by a student of city conditions of both rich and poor.
+In Nina Palermo, the heroine, is a convincing illustration of
+the fearful effect of evil circumstances on the life of an innocent
+and beautiful but poor girl. The wide influence of truly
+good and Christian women toward uplifting the fallen and
+quietly aiding reform, is also portrayed in the character of
+“My Lady.” It is a work which should do much good.
+Cloth bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><span class='large'>MY FRIEND THE CAPTAIN; or, Two Yankees in Europe.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c013'>By <span class='sc'>W. L. Terhune</span>. The book is one which has much value
+as a guide book for people going abroad. It has much of interest
+to those who have never been abroad. Mr. Terhune’s
+camera served him well, and the book is embellished with
+a hundred or more illustrations from his photographs. Cloth
+bound.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-r c014'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>1.50</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c003'>
+</div>
+<div class='tnotes x-ebookmaker'>
+
+<div class='chapter ph2'>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c004'>
+ <div>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+ <ul class='ul_1 c002'>
+ <li>Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.
+ </li>
+ </ul>
+
+</div>
+
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 74902 ***</div>
+ </body>
+ <!-- created with ppgen.py 3.57e (with regex) on 2024-12-14 22:17:33 GMT -->
+</html>
+
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