AIKENSIDE

MARY J. HOLMES

Author of "Maggie Miller, " "Dora Drane, " "English Orphans, " "TheHomestead on the Hillside, " "Meadowbrook Farm, " "Lena Rivers, ""Rosamond, " "Cousin Maude, " "Tempest and Sunshine, " "Rector of St. Marks, " "Mildred, " "The Leighton Homestead, " "Miss McDonald"

CHAPTER I. 

THE EXAMINING COMMITTEE. 

The good people of Devonshire were rather given to quarreling--sometimes about the minister's wife, meek, gentle Mrs. Tiverton, whosemanner of housekeeping, and style of dress, did not exactly suit them;sometimes about the minister himself, good, patient Mr. Tiverton, whovainly imagined that if he preached three sermons a week, attended theWednesday evening prayer-meeting, the Thursday evening sewing society, officiated at every funeral, visited all the sick, and gave to everybeggar who called at his door, besides superintending the Sundayschool, he was earning his salary of six hundred per year. 

Sometimes, and that not rarely, the quarrel crept into the choir, andthen, for one whole Sunday, it was all in vain that Mr. Tiverton readthe psalm and hymn, casting troubled glances toward the vacant seatsof his refractory singers. There was no one to respond, unless it weregood old Mr. Hodges, who pitched so high that few could follow him;while Mrs. Captain Simpson--whose daughter, the organist, had beensnubbed at the last choir meeting by Mr. Hodges' daughter, the altosinger--rolled up her eyes at her next neighbor, or fanned herselffuriously in token of her disgust. 

Latterly, however, there had come up a new cause of quarrel, beforewhich every other cause sank into insignificance. Now, though thevillage of Devonshire could boast but one public schoolhouse, saidhouse being divided into two departments, the upper and lowerdivisions, there were in the town several district schools; and forthe last few years a committee of three had been annually appointed toexamine and decide upon the merits of the various candidates forteaching, giving to each, if the decision were favorable, a littleslip of paper certifying their qualifications to teach a commonschool. Strange that over such an office so fierce a feud should havearisen; but when Mr. Tiverton, Squire Lamb and Lawyer Whittemore, inthe full conviction that they were doing right, refused a certificateof scholarship to Laura Tisdale, niece of Mrs. Judge Tisdale, andawarded it to one whose earnings in a factory had procured for her athorough English education, the villagers, to use a vulgar phrase, were at once set by the ears, the aristocracy abusing, and thedemocracy upholding the dismayed trio, who, as the breeze blew harder, quietly resigned their office, and Devonshire was without a schoolcommittee. 

In this emergency something must be done, and, as the two belligerentparties could only unite on a stranger, it seemed a matter of specialprovidence that only two months before, young Dr. Holbrook, a nativeof modern Athens, had rented the pleasant little office on the villagecommon, formerly occupied by old Dr. Carey, now lying in the graveyardby the side of some whose days he had prolonged, and others whose dayshe had surely shortened. Besides being handsome, and skillful, andquite as familiar with the poor as the rich, the young doctor wasdescended from the aristocratic line of Boston Holbrooks, facts whichtended to make him a favorite with both classes; and, greatly to hissurprise, he found himself unanimously elected to the responsibleoffice of sole Inspector of Common Schools in Devonshire. It was invain that he remonstrated, saying he knew nothing whatever of thequalifications requisite for a teacher; that he could not talk togirls, young ones especially; that he should make a miserable failure, and so forth. The people would not listen. Somebody must examine theteachers and that somebody might as well be Dr. Holbrook as anybody. 

"Only be strict with 'em, draw the reins tight, find out to yoursatisfaction whether a gal knows her P's and Q's before you give her astifficut. We've had enough of your ignoramuses, " said Colonel Lewis, the democratic potentate to whom Dr. Holbrook was expressing his fearsthat he should not give satisfaction. Then, as a bright idea suggesteditself to the old gentleman, he added: "I tell you what, just cut oneor two at first; that'll give you a name for being particular, whichis just the thing. "

Accordingly, with no definite idea as to what was expected of him, except that he was to find out "whether a girl knew her P's and Q's, "and was also to "cut one or two of the first candidates, " Dr. Holbrookaccepted the office, and then awaited rather nervously his initiation. He was not easy in the society of ladies, unless, indeed, the ladystood in need of his professional services, when he lost sight of_her_ at once, and thought only of her disease. His patient oncewell, however, he became nervously shy and embarrassed, retreating assoon as possible from her presence to the covert of his friendlyoffice, where, with his boots upon the table and his head thrown backin a most comfortable position, he sat one April morning, in happyoblivion of the bevy of girls who must, of course, ere long-invade hissanctum. 

"Something for you, sir. The lady will wait for an answer, " said his"chore boy, " passing to his master a little three-cornered note, andnodding toward the street. 

Following the direction indicated, the doctor saw, drawn up near hisdoor, an old-fashioned one-horse wagon, such as is still occasionallyseen in New England. A square boxed, dark green wagon, drawn by asorrel horse, sometimes called by the genuine Yankee "yellow, " anddriven by a white-haired man, whose silvery locks, falling around hiswrinkled face, gave to him a pleasing, patriarchal appearance, whichinterested the doctor far more than did the flutter of the blue ribbonbeside him, even though the bonnet that ribbon tied shaded the face ofa young girl. The note was from her, and, tearing it open, the doctorread, in the prettiest of all pretty, girlish handwriting:

"Dr. Holbrook. "

Here it was plainly visible that a "D" had been written as if shewould have said "Dear. " Then, evidently changing her mind, she hadwith her finger blotted out the "D, " and made it into an oddly shaped"S, " so that it read simply:

"Dr. Holbrook--Sir: Will you be at leisure to examine me on Mondayafternoon, at three o'clock?

 "MADELINE A. CLYDE. 

"P. S. --For particular reasons I hope you can attend to me as early asMonday. M. A. C. "

Dr. Holbrook knew very little of girls, but he thought this note, withits P. S. , decidedly girlish. Still he made no comment, either verbalor mental, so flurried was he with knowing that the evil he so muchdreaded had come upon him at last. Had it been left to his choice, hewould far rather have extracted every one of that maiden's teeth, thanto have set himself up before her like some horrid ogre, asking whatshe knew. But the choice was not his, and, turning to the boy, hesaid, laconically, "Tell her to come. "

Most men would have sought for a glimpse of the face under the bonnettied with blue, but Dr. Holbrook did not care a picayune whether itwere ugly or fair, though it did strike him that the voice wassingularly sweet, which, after the boy had delivered his message, saidto the old man, "Now, grandpa, we'll go home. I know you must betired. "

Slowly Sorrel trotted down the street, the blue ribbons fluttering inthe wind, while one little ungloved hand was seen carefully adjustingabout the old man's shoulders the ancient camlet cloak which had doneduty for many a year, and was needed on this chill April day. Thedoctor saw all this, and the impression left upon his mind was, thatCandidate No. 1 was probably a nice-ish kind of a girl, and very goodto her grandfather. But what should he ask her, and how demean himselftoward her? Monday afternoon was frightfully near, he thought, as thiswas only Saturday; and then, feeling that he must be ready, he broughtout from the trunk, where, since his arrival in Devonshire, they hadbean quietly lying, books enough to have frightened an older personthan poor little Madeline Clyde, riding slowly home with grandpa, andwishing so much that she'd had a glimpse of Dr. Holbrook, so as toknow what he was like, and hoping he would give her a chance to repeatsome of the many pages of geography and "Parley's History, " which sheknew by heart. How she would have trembled could she have seen theformidable volumes heaped upon his table and waiting for her. Therewere French and Latin grammars, "Hamilton's Metaphysics, " "Olmstead'sPhilosophy, " "Day's Algebra, " "Butler's Analogy, " and many others, into which poor Madeline had never so much as looked. Arranging themin a row, and half wishing himself back again to the days when he hadstudied them, the doctor went out to visit his patients, of whichthere were so many that Madeline Clyde entirely escaped his mind, nordid she trouble him again until the dreaded Monday came, and the handsof his watch pointed to two. 

"One hour more, " he said to himself, just as the roll of wheels and acloud of dust announced the approach of something. 

Could it be Sorrel and the square-boxed wagon? Oh, no; far differentfrom grandfather Clyde's turnout was the stylish carriage and thespirited bays dashing down the street, the colored driver reining themsuddenly, not before the office door, but just in front of the whitecottage in the same yard, the house where Dr. Holbrook boarded, andwhere, if he ever married in Devonshire, he would most likely bringhis 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 theseparts?" was the doctor's mental exclamation, as, running his fingersthrough his hair and making a feint of pulling up the corners of hisrather limp collar, he hurried out to the carriage, from which adashing looking lady of thirty, or thereabouts, was alighting. 

"Why, Agnes, I beg your pardon, Mrs. Remington, when did you come?" heasked, offering his hand to the lady, who, coquettishly shaking backfrom her pretty, dollish face a profusion of light brown curls, gavehim the tips of her lavender kids, while she told him she had come toAikenside the Saturday before; and hearing, from Guy that the ladywith whom he boarded was an old friend of hers, she had driven over tocall, and brought Jessie with her. "Here, Jessie, speak to the doctor. He was poor dear papa's friend, " and a very proper sigh escaped AgnesRemington's lips as she pushed a little curly-haired girl toward Dr. Holbrook. 

The lady of the house had spied them by this time, and came runningdown the walk to meet her rather distinguished visitor, wondering, itmay be, to what she was indebted for this call from one who, since hermarriage with the supposed wealthy Dr. Remington, had rather cut herformer acquaintances. Agnes was delighted to see her, and, as Guydeclined entering the cottage just then, the two friends disappearedwithin the door, while the doctor and Guy repaired to the office, thelatter sitting down in the very chair intended for Madeline Clyde. This reminded the doctor of his perplexity, and also brought thecomforting thought that Guy, who had never failed him yet, couldsurely offer some suggestions. But he would not speak of her just now;he had other matters to talk about, and so, jamming his penknife intoa pine table covered with similar jams, he said: "Agnes, it seems, hascome to Aikenside, notwithstanding she declared she never would, whenshe found that the whole of the Remington property belonged to yourmother, and not your father. "

"Oh, yes. She got over her pique as soon as I settled a handsomelittle income on Jessie, and, in fact, on her too, until she isfoolish enough to marry again, when it will cease, of course, as I donot feel it my duty to support any man's wife, unless it be my own, ormy father's, " was Guy Remington's reply; whereupon the penknife wentagain into the table, and this time with so much force that the pointwas broken off; but the doctor did not mind it, and with the jaggedend continued to make jagged marks, while he continued: "She'll hardlymarry again, though she may. She's young--not over twenty-six---

"Twenty-eight, if the family Bible does not lie; but she'd neverforgive me if she knew I told you that. So let it pass that she'stwenty-six. She certainly is not more than three years your senior, amere nothing, if you wish to make her Mrs. Holbrook;" and Guy's darkeyes scanned curiously the doctor's face, as if seeking there for thesecret of his proud young stepmother's anxiety to visit plain Mrs. Conner that afternoon. But the doctor only laughed merrily at the ideaof his being father to Guy, his college chum and long-tried friend. 

Agnes Remington--reclining languidly in Mrs. Conner's easy-chair, andoverwhelming her former friend with descriptions of the gay partiesshe 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 thatsmile, or heard how easily, from talking of her, Dr. Holbrook turnedto another theme, to Madeline Clyde, expected now almost every moment. There was a merry laugh on Guy's part, as he listened to the doctor'sstory, and, when it was finished, he said: "Why, I see nothing so verydistasteful in examining a pretty girl, and puzzling her, to see herblush. I half wish I were in your place. I should enjoy the novelty ofthe thing. " "Oh, take it, then; take my place, Guy, " the doctorexclaimed, eagerly. "She does not know me from Adam. Here are books, all you will need. You went to a district school once a week when youwere staying in the country. You surely have some idea, while I havenot the slightest. Will you, Guy?" he persisted more earnestly, as heheard wheels in the street, and was sure old Sorrel had come again. 

Guy Remington liked anything savoring of a frolic, but in his mindthere were certain conscientious scruples touching the justice of thething, 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 thatshe is qualified to teach. "

"Yes, certainly, Guy, if she is; but maybe she won't be, and my ordersare, to be strict--very strict. "

"How did she look?" Guy asked, and the doctor replied: "Saw nothingbut her bonnet. Came in a queer old go-giggle of a wagon, such as yourcountry farmers drive. Guess she won't be likely to stir up the bileof either of us, particularly as I am bullet proof, and you have beenengaged for years. By the way, when do you cross the sea again for thefair Lucy? Rumor says this summer. "

"Rumor is wrong, as usual, then, " was Guy's reply, a soft lightstealing into his handsome eyes. Then, after a moment, he added: "MissAtherstone's health is far too delicate for her to incur the risks ofa climate like ours. If she were well acclimated, I should be glad, for it is terribly lonely up at Aikenside. "

"And do you really think a wife would make it pleasanter?" Dr Holbrookasked, the tone of his voice indicating a little doubt as to a man'sbeing happier for having a helpmate to share his joys and sorrows. 

But no such doubts dwelt in the mind of Guy Remington. Eminentlyfitted for domestic happiness, he looked forward anxiously to the timewhen sweet Lucy Atherstone, the fair English girl to whom he hadbecome engaged when, four years before, he visited Europe, should bestrong enough to bear transplanting to American soil. Twice since hisengagement he had visited her, finding her always lovely, gentle, andyielding. Too yielding, it sometimes seemed to him, while occasionallythe thought had flashed upon him that she did not possess a veryremarkable depth of intellect. But he said to himself, he did notcare; he hated strong-minded women, and would far rather his wifeshould be a little weak than masculine, like his Aunt Margaret, whosometimes wore bloomers, and advocated women's rights. Yes, he greatlypreferred Lucy Atherstone, as she was, to a wife like the statelyMargaret, or like Agnes, his pretty stepmother, who only thought howshe could best attract attention; and as it had never occurred to himthat there might be a happy medium, that a woman need not be brainlessto be feminine and gentle, he was satisfied with his choice, as wellhe might be, for a fairer, sweeter flower never bloomed than LucyAtherstone, his affianced bride. Guy loved to think of Lucy, and asthe doctor's remarks brought her to his mind, he went off into areverie concerning her, becoming so lost in thought that until thedoctor's hand was laid upon his shoulder by way of rousing him, he didnot see that what his friend had designated as a go-giggle wasstopping in front of the office, and that from it a young girl wasalighting. 

Naturally very polite to females, Guy's first impulse was to go to herassistance, but she did not need it, as was proven by the light springwith which she reached the ground. The white-haired man was with heragain, but he evidently did not intend to stop, and a close observermight have detected a shade of sadness and anxiety upon his face asMadeline called cheerily out to him: "Good-by, grandpa. Don't fear forme; I hope you have good luck;" then, as he drove away, she ran a stepafter him and said; "Don't look so sorry, for if Mr. Remington won'tlet you have the money, there's my pony, Beauty. I am willing to givehim up. "

"Never, Maddy. It's all the little fortin' you've got. I'll let theold place go first;" and, chirruping to Sorrel, the old man drove on, while Madeline walked, with a beating heart, to the office door, knocking timidly. 

Glancing involuntarily at each other, the young men exchanged meaningsmiles, while the doctor whispered softly: "Verdant--that's sure. Wonder if she'll knock at a church. "

As Guy sat nearest the door, it was he who held it ajar while Madelinecame in, her soft brown eyes glistening with something like a tear, and her cheeks burning with excitement as she took the chair indicatedby Guy Remington, who unconsciously found himself master ofceremonies. 

Poor little Madeline!

CHAPTER II

MADELINE CLYDE. 

Madge her schoolmates called her, because the name suited her, theysaid; but Maddy they called her at home, and there was a world ofunutterable tenderness in the voices of the old couple, hergrandparents, when they said that name, while their dim eyes lightedup with pride and joy when they rested upon the young girl whoanswered to the name of Maddy. Their only daughter's only child, shehad lived with them since her mother's death, for her father was a seacaptain, who never returned from his last voyage to China, made twomonths before she was born. Very lonely and desolate would the home ofGrandfather Markham have been without the presence of Madeline, butwith her there, the old red farmhouse seemed to the aged couple like aparadise. 

Forty years they had lived there, tilling the rather barren soil ofthe rocky homestead, and, saving the sad night when they heard thatRichard Clyde was lost at sea, and the far sadder morning when theirdaughter died, bitter sorrow had not come to them; and, truly thankfulfor the blessings so long vouchsafed them, they had retired each nightin peace with God and man, and risen each morning to pray. But achange was coming over them. In an evil hour Grandpa Markham hadsigned a note for a neighbor and friend, who failed to pay, and so itall fell on Mr. Markham, who, to meet the demand, mortgaged hishomestead; the recreant neighbor still insisting that long before themortgage should be due, he certainly would be able himself to meet it. This, however, he had not done, and, after twice begging off aforeclosure, poor old Grandfather Markham found himself at the mercyof a grasping, remorseless man, into whose hands the mortgage hadpassed. It was vain to hope that Silas Slocum would wait. The moneymust either be forthcoming, or the red farmhouse be sold, with its fewacres of land. Among his neighbors there was not one who had the moneyto spare, even if they had been willing to do so. And so he must lookamong strangers. 

"If I could only help, " Madeline had said one evening when they sattalking over their troubles; "but there's nothing I can do, unless Iapply for our school this summer. Mr. Green is committeeman; he likesus, and I don't believe but what he'll let me have it. I mean to goand see;" and, ere the old people had recovered from theirastonishment, Madeline had caught her bonnet and shawl, and was flyingdown the road. 

Madeline was a favorite with all, especially with Mr. Green, and asthe school would be small that summer, the plan struck him favorably. Her age, however, was an objection, and he must take time to see whatothers thought of a child like her becoming a schoolmistress. Othersthought well of it, and so before the close of the next day it wasgenerally known through Honedale, as the southern part of Devonshirewas called, that pretty little Madge Clyde had been engaged asteacher, she receiving three dollars a week, with the understandingthat she must board herself. It did not take Madeline long tocalculate that twelve times three were thirty-six, more than a tenthof what her grandfather must borrow. It seemed like a little fortune, and blithe as a singing bird she flitted about the house, now stoppinga moment to fondle her pet kitten, while she whispered the good newsin its very appreciative ear, and then stroking her grandfather'ssilvery hair, as she said:

"You can tell them that you are sure of paying thirty-six dollars inthe fall, and if I do well, maybe they'll hire me longer. I mean totry my very best. I wonder if ever anybody before me taught a schoolwhen 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 inthe old-fashioned mirror, with the figure of an eagle on the top. 

She did look very young, and yet there was something womanly, too, inthe expression of the face, something which said that life's realitieswere already beginning to be understood by her. 

"If my hair were not short I should do better. What a pity I cut itthe last time; it would have been so long and splendid now, " shecontinued, giving a kind of contemptuous pull at the thick, beautifulbrown hair on whose glossy surface there was in certain lights areddish tinge, which added to its beauty. 

"Never mind the hair, Maddy, " the old man said, gazing fondly at herwith a half sigh as he remembered another brown head, pillowed nowbeneath the graveyard turf. "Maybe you won't pass muster, and then thehair will make no difference. There's a new committee-man, that Dr. Holbrook, from Boston, and new ones are apt to be mighty strict. "

Instantly Maddy's face flushed all over with nervous dread, as shethought: "What if I should fail?" fancying that to do so would be aneternal disgrace. But she should not. She was called by everybody thevery best scholar in school, the one whom the teachers always putforward when desirous of showing off, the one whom Mr. Tiverton, andSquire Lamb, and Lawyer Whittemore always noticed so much. Of courseshe should not fail, though she did dread Dr. Holbrook, wondering muchwhat he would ask her first, and hoping it would be something inarithmetic, provided he did not stumble upon decimals, where she wasapt to get bewildered. She had no fears of grammar. She could pick outthe most obscure sentence and dissect a double relative with perfectease; then, as to geography, she could repeat whole pages of that, while in the spelling-book, the foundation of a thorough education, asshe had been taught, she had no superiors, and but a very few equals. Still she would be very glad when it was over, and she appointedMonday, both because it was close at hand, and because that was theday her grandfather had set in which to ride to Aikenside, in anadjoining town, and ask its young master for the loan of three hundreddollars. 

He could hardly tell why he had thought of applying to Guy Remingtonfor help, unless it were that he once had saved the life of Guy'sfather, who, as long as he lived, had evinced a great regard for hisbenefactor, frequently asserting that he meant to do something forhim. But the something was never done, the father was dead, and in hisstrait 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'sso beautiful, " Madeline had said, as on Saturday evening they satdiscussing the expected events of the following Monday. "Mrs. Noah, the housekeeper, had Sarah Jones there once, to sew, and she told meall about it. There are graveled walks, and nice green lawns, and big, tall trees, and flowers--oh! so many!--and marble fountains, with goldfishes in the basin; and statues, big as folks, all over the yard, with two brass lions on the gateposts. But the house is finest of all. There's a drawing-room bigger than a ballroom, with carpets that letyour 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 thevery bottom of their dress and know just how it hangs. Oh, I do sowish I could have a peep at it! There are two in one room, and thewindows are like doors, with lace curtains; but what is queerest ofall, the chairs and sofas are covered with real silk, just like thatfunny, gored gown of grandma's up in the oak chest. Dear me! I wonderif 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 heavenknows just what is best for us; as He didn't see fit to put you up atAikenside, 'tain't noways likely you'll ever live in the like of it. "

"Not unless I should happen to marry a rich man. Poor girls like mehave 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 inthe air about this Guy Remington. "

"Me! Oh, grandpa, I never dreamed of Mr. Guy!" and Madeline blushedhalf indignantly. "He's too rich, too aristocratic, though Sarah saidhe didn't act one bit proud, and was so pleasant, the servants allworship him, and Mrs. Noah thinks him good enough for the Queen ofEngland. I shall think so, too, if he lets you have the money. How Iwish it was Monday night, so we could know sure!"

"Perhaps we both shall be terribly disappointed, " suggested grandpa, but Maddy was more hopeful. 

She, at least, would not fail, while what she had heard of GuyRemington, the heir of Aikenside, made her believe that he wouldaccede at once to her grandpa's request. 

All that night she was working to pay the debt, giving the moneyherself into the hands of Guy Remington, whom she had never seen, butwho came up in her dreams the tall, handsome-looking man she had sooften heard described by Sarah Jones after her return from Aikenside. Even the next day, when, by her grandparent's side, Maddy kneltreverently in the small, time-worn church at Honedale, her thoughts, it must be confessed, were wandering more to the to-morrow andAikenside, than to the sacred words her lips were uttering. She knewit was wrong, and with a nervous start would try to bring her mindback from decimal fractions to what the minister was saying; but Maddywas mortal, and right in the midst of the Collect, Aikenside and itsowner would rise before her, together with the wonder how she and hergrandfather would feel one week from that Sabbath day. Would thedesired certificate be hers? or would she be disgraced forever andever by a rejection? Would the mortgage be paid and her grandfather atease, or would his heart be breaking with the knowing he must leavewhat had been his home for so many years? Not thus was it with theaged disciple beside her--the good old man, whose white locks sweptthe large lettered book over which his wrinkled face was bent, as hejoined in the responses, or said the prayers whose words had over himso soothing an influence, carrying his thoughts upward to the housenot made with hands, which he felt assured would one day be his. Onceor twice, it is true, thoughts of losing the dear old red cottageflitted across his mind with a keen, sudden pang, but he put itquickly aside, remembering at the same instant how the Father he loveddoeth all things well to such as are His children. Grandpa Markham wasold in the Christian course, while Maddy could hardly be said to havecommenced as yet, and so to her that April Sunday was long andwearisome. How she did wish she might just look over the geography, byway of refreshing her memory, or see exactly how the rule forextracting the cube root did read, but Maddy forebore, reading onlythe Pilgrim's Progress, the Bible, and the book brought from theSunday school. 

With the earliest dawn, however, she was up, and her grandmother heardher repeating to herself much of what she dreaded Dr. Holbrook mightquestion her upon. Even when bending over the washtub, for there wereno servants at the red cottage, a book was arranged before her so thatshe could study with her eyes, while her small, fat hands and dimpledarms were busy in the suds. Before ten o'clock everything was done, the clothes, white as the snowdrops in the garden beds, were swingingon the line, the kitchen floor was scrubbed, the windows washed, thebest room swept, the vegetables cleaned for dinner, and then Maddy'swork was finished. "Grandma could do all the rest, " she said, andMadeline was free "to put her eyes out over them big books if sheliked. "

Swiftly flew the hours until it was time to be getting ready, whenagain the short hair was deplored, as before her looking-glassMadeline brushed and arranged her shining, beautiful locks. Would Dr. Holbrook think of her age? Suppose he should ask it. But no, hewouldn't. If Mr. Green thought her old enough, surely it was not amatter with which the doctor need trouble himself; and, somewhat atease on that point, Madeline donned her longest frock, and, standingin a chair, tried to discover how much of her pantalets was visible. 

"I could see splendidly in Mr. Remington's mirrors, " she said toherself, with a half sigh of regret that her lot had not been cast insome such place as Aikenside, instead of there beneath the hill inthat wee bit of a cottage, whose rear slanted back until it almosttouched the ground. "After all, I guess I'm happier here, " shethought. "Everybody likes me, while if I were Mr. Guy's sister andlived at Aikenside, I might be proud and wicked, and--"

She did not finish the sentence, but somehow the story of Dives andLazarus, read by her grandfather that morning, recurred to her mind, and feeling how much rather she would rest in Abraham's bosom thanshare the fate of him who once was clothed in purple and fine linenshe pinned on her little neat plaid shawl, and, tying the blue ribbonsof her coarse straw hat, glanced once more at the formidable cuberoot, and then hurried down to where her grandfather and old Sorrelwore waiting for her. 

"I shall be so happy when I come back, because it will then be over, just like having a tooth out, you know, " she said to her grandmother, who bent down for the good-by kiss without which Maddy never left her. "Now, grandpa, drive on; I was to be there at three, " and chirrupingherself to Sorrel, the impatient Madge went riding from the cottagedoor, chatting cheerily until the village of Devonshire was reached;then, with a farewell to her grandfather, who never dreamed that theman whom he was seeking was so near, she tripped up the flagging walk, and, as we have seen, soon stood in the presence of not only Dr. Holbrook, but also of Guy Remington. 

Poor, poor little Madge!

CHAPTER III. 

THE EXAMINATION. 

It was Guy who received her, Guy who pointed to a chair, Guy whoseemed perfectly at home, and, naturally enough, she took him for Dr. Holbrook, wondering who the other black-haired man could be, and if hemeant to stay in there all the while. It would be very dreadful if hedid, and in her agitation and excitement the cube root was in dangerof being altogether forgotten. Half guessing the cause of heruneasiness, and feeling more averse than ever to taking part in thematter, the doctor, after a hasty survey of her person, withdrew intothe background, and sat where he could not be seen. This brought theshort 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'schances of success were beginning to decline even before a word hadbeen spoken. 

How terribly still it was for the time, during which telegraphiccommunications were silently passing between Guy and the doctor, thelatter shaking his dead decidedly, while the former insisted that heshould do his duty. Madeline could almost hear the beatings of herheart, and only by counting and recounting the poplar trees growingacross the street could she keep back the tears. What was he waitingfor, she wondered, and, at last, summoning all her courage, she liftedher great brown eyes to Guy, and said, pleadingly:

"Would you be so kind, sir, as to begin?"

"Yes, certainly, " and electrified by that young, bird-like voice, thesweetest save one he had ever heard, Guy knocked down from the pile ofbooks the only one at all appropriate to the occasion, the othersbeing as far beyond what was taught in the district schools as hisclassical education was beyond Madeline's common one. 

Remembering that the teacher of whom he had once been for a week apupil, in the town of Framingham, had commenced operations bysharpening a lead pencil, so he now sharpened a similar one, determining as far as he could to follow that teacher's example. Maddycounted every fragment as it fell upon the floor, wishing so much thathe would commence, and fancying that it would not be half so bad tohave him approach her with some one of those terrible dentalinstruments lying before her, as it was to sit and wait as she waswaiting. Had Guy Remington reflected a little, he would never haveconsented to do the doctor's work; but, unaccustomed to countryusages, especially those pertaining to schools and teachers, he didnot consider that it mattered which examined that young girl, himselfor Dr. Holbrook. Viewing it somewhat in the light of a joke, he ratherenjoyed it; and as the Framingham teacher had first asked her pupilstheir names and ages, so he, when the pencil was sharpenedsufficiently, startled Madeline by asking her name. 

"Madeline Amelia Clyde, " was the meek reply, which Guy quicklyrecorded. 

Now, Guy Remington intended no irreverence; indeed, he could not tellwhat 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, andstanding before the railing of the altar, where, with others of hisage, he had been asked the question propounded to Madeline Clyde, whodid not hear the doctor's smothered laugh as he retreated into theadjoining room. 

In all her preconceived ideas of this examination, she had neverdreamed of being catechised, and with a feeling of terror as shethought of that long answer to the question, "What is thy duty to thyneighbor?" and doubted her ability to repeat it, she said: "Mysponsors, in baptism gave me the first name of Madeline Amelia, sir, "adding, as she caught and misconstrued the strange gleam in the darkeyes bent upon her, "I am afraid I have forgotten some of thecatechism; 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 GuyRemington's ejaculatory replies, as he glanced from Madeline to theopen door of the adjoining room, where was visible a slate, on which, in huge letters, the amused doctor had written "Blockhead. "

There was something in Madeline's quiet, womanly, earnest manner whichcommanded Guy's respect, or he would have given vent to the laughterwhich was choking him, and thrown off his disguise. But he could notbear now to undeceive her, and, resolutely turning his back upon thedoctor, he sat down by that pile of books and commenced theexamination in earnest, asking first her age. 

"Going on fifteen, " sounded older to Madeline than "Fourteen and ahalf, " so "Going on fifteen" was the reply, to which Guy responded:"That is very young, Miss Clyde. "

"Yes, but Mr. Green did not mind. He's the committeeman. He knew howyoung I was, " Madeline said, eagerly, her great brown eyes growinglarge with the look of fear which came so suddenly into them. 

Guy noticed the eyes then, and thought them very bright and handsomefor brown, but not so bright or handsome as a certain pair of softblue orbs he knew, and feeling a thrill of satisfaction that sweetLucy Atherstone was not obliged to sit there in that doctor's officeto be questioned by him or any other man, he said: "Of course, if youremployers are satisfied it is nothing to me, only I had associatedteaching with women much older than yourself. What is logic, MissClyde?"

The abruptness with which he put the question startled Madeline tosuch a degree that she could not positively tell whether she had everheard that word before, much less could she recall its meaning, and soshe answered frankly, "I don't know. "

A girl who did not know what logic was did not know much, in Guy'sestimation, but it would not do to stop here, and so he asked her nexthow many cases there were in Latin!

Maddy felt the hot blood tingling to her very fingertips, theexamination had taken a course so widely different from her ideas ofwhat it would probably be. She had never looked inside a Latingrammar, and again her truthful "I don't know, sir, " fell on Guy'sear, but this time there was a half despairing tone in the young voiceusually so hopeful. 

"Perhaps, then, you can conjugate the verb _Amo, _" Guy said, hismanner indicating the doubt he was beginning to feel as to herqualifications. 

Maddy knew well what "conjugate" meant, but that verb _Amo_, whatcould it mean? and had she ever heard it before? Mr. Remington waswaiting for her; she must say something, and with a gasp she began: "Iamo, 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 smilebroke all over his face, telling poor Maddy plainer than words couldhave done, that she had made a most ridiculous mistake. 

"Oh, sir, " she cried, her eyes wearing the look of the frightenedhare, "it is not right. I don't know what it means. Tell me, teach me. What is it to amo?"

To most men it would not have seemed a very disagreeable task, teaching young Madeline Clyde "to amo, " as she termed it, and somesuch idea flitted across Guy's mind, as he thought how pretty andbright was the eager face upturned to his, the pure white forehead, suffused with a faint flush, the cheeks a crimson hue, and the palelips 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 emphasison the last word, which would have made Maddy blush had she been lessanxious and frightened. 

Thus far she had answered nothing correctly, and, feeling puzzled toknow how to proceed, Guy stepped into the adjoining room to consultwith the doctor, but he was gone. So returning again to Madeline, Guyresumed the examination by asking her how "minus into minus couldproduce plus. "

Again Maddy was at fault, and her low-spoken "I don't know" soundedlike a wail of despair. Did she know anything, Guy wondered, andfeeling some curiosity now to ascertain that fact, he plied her withquestions philosophical, questions algebraical, and questionsgeometrical, until in an agony of distress Maddy raised her handsdeprecatingly, as if she would ward off any similar questions, andsobbed out:

"Oh, sir, no more. It makes my head so dizzy. They don't teach that incommon schools. Ask me something I do know. "

Suddenly it occurred to Guy that he had gone entirely wrong, andmentally 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, " Madelinereplied, untying and throwing off her bonnet, in the vain hope that itmight bring relief to her poor, giddy head, which throbbed sofearfully that all her ideas seemed for the time to have left her. 

This was a natural consequence of the high excitement under which shewas laboring, and so, when Guy did ask her concerning the booksdesignated, she answered but little better than before, and Guy waswondering what he should do next, when the doctor's welcome step washeard, and leaving Madeline again, he repaired to the next room toreport his ill success. 

"She does not seem to know anything. The veriest child ought to dobetter than she has done. Why, she has scarcely answered half a dozenquestions 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'score, drying her tears and hardening her into a block of marble. Sheknew that Guy had not done her justice, and this helped to increasethe torpor stealing over her. Still she did not lose a syllable ofwhat was saying in the back office, and her lip curled scornfully whenshe heard Guy remark: "I pity her; she is so young, and evidentlytakes it so hard. Maybe she's as good as they average. Suppose we giveher the certificate. "

Then Dr. Holbrook spoke, but to poor, dazed Maddy his words were all ariddle. It was nothing to him--who was he that he should be dictatingthus? There seemed to be a difference of opinion between the youngmen, Guy insisting that out of pity she should not be rejected; andthe doctor demurring on the ground that he ought to be more strict. Asusual, Guy overruled, and seating himself at the table, the doctor wasjust commencing: "I hereby certify--" while Guy was bending over him, when the latter was startled by a hand laid firmly on his arm, andturning quickly he confronted Madeline Clyde, who, with her short hairpushed from her blue-veined forehead, her face as pale as ashes, savewhere a round spot of purplish red burned upon her cheeks, and hereyes 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 mequalified. I heard you say so. I do not want to be pitied. I do notwant a certificate because I am so young, and you think I'll feelbadly. I do not want--"

Her voice failed her, her bosom heaved, and the choking sobs camethick and fast, but still she shed no tear, and in her bright, dryeyes there was a look which made both those young men turn awayinvoluntarily. Once Guy tried to excuse her failure, saying she nodoubt was frightened. She would probably do better again, and might aswell accept the certificate, but Madeline still said no, so decidedlythat further remonstrance was useless. She would not take what she hadno right to, she said, but if they pleased she would wait there in theback office until her grandfather came back; it would not be long, andshe should not trouble them. 

Guy brought her the easy-chair from the front room and placed it forher by the window. With a faint smile she thanked him and said: "Youare very kind, " but the smile hurt Guy cruelly, it was so sad, so fullof unintentional reproach, while the eyes she lifted to his looked sogrieved and weary that he insensibly murmured to himself: "Poorchild!" as he left her, and with the doctor repaired to the house, where Agnes was impatiently waiting for them. Poor, poor little Madge!Let those smile who may at her distress; it was the first keendisappointment she had ever had, and it crushed her as completely asmany an older person has been crushed by heavier calamities. 

"Disgraced for ever and ever, " she kept repeating to herself, as shetried to shake off the horrid nightmare stealing over her. "How can Ihold up my head again at home where nobody will understand just how itwas; nobody but grandpa and grandma? Oh, grandpa, I can't earn thatthirty-six dollars now. I most wish I was dead, and I am--I am dying. Somebody--come--quick!"

There was a heavy fall, and while in Mrs. Conner's parlor GuyRemington and Dr. Holbrook were chatting gayly with Agnes, a childishfigure was lying upon the office floor, white, stiff, and insensible. 

Little Jessie Remington, tired of sitting still and listening to whather mamma and Mrs. Conner were saying, had strayed off into thegarden, and after filling her chubby hands with daffodils and earlyviolets, wended her way to the office, the door of which was partiallyajar. Peering curiously in, she saw the crumpled bonnet, with itsribbons of blue, and, attracted by this, advanced into the room, untilshe came where Madeline was lying. With a feeling that something waswrong, Jessie bent over the prostrate girl, asking if she were asleep, and lifting next the long, fringed lashes drooping on the colorlesscheek. The dull, dead expression of the eyes sent a chill throughJessie's frame, and hurrying to the house she cried: "Oh, Brother Guy, somebody's dead in the office, and her bonnet is all jammed!"

Scarcely were the words uttered ere Guy and the doctor both were withMadeline, the former holding her tenderly in his arms, while hesmoothed the short hair, thinking even then how soft and luxuriant itwas, and how fair was the face which never moved a muscle beneath hisscrutiny. The doctor was wholly self-possessed. Maddy had no terrorsfor him now. She needed his services, and he rendered them willingly, applying restoratives which soon brought back signs of life in therigid form. With a shiver and a moan Madeline whispered: "Oh, grandma, I'm so tired, " and nestled closer to the bosom where she had neverdreamed of lying. 

By this time both Mrs. Conner and Agnes had come out, asking in muchsurprise who the stranger could be, and what was the cause of herillness. As if there had been a previous understanding between them, the doctor and Guy were silent with regard to the recent farce enactedthere, simply saying it was possible she was in the habit of fainting;many people were. Very daintily, Agnes held up and back the skirt ofher rich silk as if fearful that it might come in contact withMadeline's plain delaine; then, as it was not very interesting for herto stand and see the doctor "make so much fuss over a young girl, " asshe mentally expressed it, she returned to the house, bidding Jessiedo the same. But Jessie refused, choosing to stay by Madeline, whomthey placed upon the comfortable lounge, which she preferred to beingtaken to the house, as Guy proposed. 

"I'm better now, much better, " she said. "Leave me, please. I'd ratherbe alone. "

So they left her, all but Jessie, who, fascinated by the sweet youngface, climbed upon the lounge and, laying her curly head caressinglyagainst Madeline's arm, said to her: "Poor girl, you're sick, and I amso sorry. What makes you sick?"

There was genuine sympathy in that little voice, and it opened thepent-up flood beating so furiously, and roused Maddy's heart. With acry as of sudden pain she clasped the child in her arms and wept out awild, stormy fit of weeping which did her so much good. Forgettingthat Jessie could not understand, and feeling it a relief to tell hergrief to some one, she said, in reply to Jessie's oft repeatedinquiries as to what was the matter: "I did not get a certificate, andI wanted it so much, for we are poor, and our house is mortgaged, andI was going to help grandpa pay it. "

"It's dreadful to be poor!" sighed little Jessie, as her waxen fingersthreaded the soft, nut-brown hair resting in her lap, where Maddy hadlain her aching head. 

Maddy did not know who this beautiful child was, but her sympathy wasvery sweet, and they talked together as children will, until Mrs. Agnes' voice was heard calling to her little girl that it was time togo. 

"I love you, Maddy, and I mean to tell brother about it, " Jessie said, as she wound her arms around Madeline's neck and kissed her atparting. 

It never occurred to Maddy to ask her name, so stupified she felt, andwith a responsive kiss she sent her away. Leaning her head upon thetable, she forgot all but her own wretchedness, and so did not see thegayly-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 amoment, Agnes asking the doctor very prettily to come up to Aikensidewhile she was there, and bring his ladylove. Engaged young men likeGuy were so stupid, she said, as with a merry laugh she sprang intothe carriage; and, bowing gracefully to the doctor, was driven rapidlytoward Aikenside. 

Rather slowly the doctor returned to the office, and after fidgetingfor a time among the powders and phials, summoned courage to askMadeline how she felt, and if any of the fainting symptoms hadreturned. 

"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 incharge of Tom, his chore boy, he went away, feeling slightlyuncomfortable whenever he thought of the girl to whom he felt thatjustice had not been done. 

"I half wish I had examined her myself, " he said. "Of course she wasexcited, and could not answer; beside, hanged if I don't believe itwas all humbug tormenting her with Greek and Latin. Yes; I'll questionher when I get back, and if she'll possibly pass, give her thecertificate. Poor child; how white she was, and what a queer lookthere 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 inany female who was not sick as he was in Madeline, and determining tomake his call on Mrs. Briggs as brief as possible, he alighted at hergate, and knocked impatiently at her door. He found her pretty sick, while both her children needed a prescription, and so long a time washe detained that his heart misgave him on his homeward route, lestMaddy should be gone, and with her the chance to remedy the wrong hemight have done her. 

Maddy was gone, and the wheel ruts of the square-boxed wagon werefresh before the door when he came back. Grandpa Markham had returned, and Madeline, who recognized old Sorrel's step, had gathered her shawlaround her and gone sadly out to meet him. One look at her face wassufficient. 

"You failed, Maddy?" the old man said, fixing about her feet the warmbuffalo 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 homebefore Madeline found voice to say so much, and they were nearer homeby half a mile ere the old man answered back:

"And, Maddy, I failed too. "

CHAPTER IV. 

GRANDPA MARKHAM. 

Mrs. Noah, the housekeeper at Aikenside, was slicing vegetable oystersfor the nice little dish intended for her own supper, when the head ofSorrel came around the corner of the building, followed by the square-boxed wagon containing Grandpa Markham, who, bewildered by the beautyand spaciousness of the grounds, and wholly uncertain as to where heought to stop, had driven over the smooth-graveled road around to thefront kitchen door, Mrs. Noah's spacious domain, as sacred as BetseyTrotwood's patch of green. 

"In the name of wonder, what codger is that? and what is he doinghere?" was Mrs. Noah's exclamation, as she dropped the bit of salsifyshe was scraping, and hurrying to the door, called out: "I say, you, sir, what made you drive up here, when I've said over and over again, that I wouldn't have wheels tearing up turf and gravel?"

"I--I beg your pardon. I lost my way, I guess, there was so manyturnin's, I'm sorry, but a little rain will fetch it right, " grandpasaid, glancing ruefully at the ruts in the gravel and the marks on theturf. 

Mrs. Noah was not at heart an unkind woman, and something in thebenignant expression of grandpa's face, or in the apologetic tone ofhis voice, mollified her somewhat, and without further comment shestood waiting for his next remark. It was a most unfortunate one, forthough as free from weakness as most of her sex, Mrs. Noah wasterribly sensitive as to her age, and the same census-taker wouldnever venture twice within her precincts. Glancing at her dress, whichwas this leisure afternoon much smarter than usual, grandpa concludedshe could not be a servant; and as she seemed to have a right to saywhere he should drive and where he should not, the meek old manconcluded she was a near relation of Guy--mother, perhaps; but no, Guy's mother was dead, as grandpa well knew, for all Devonshire hadheard of the young bride Agnes, who had married Guy's father for moneyand rank. To have been mistaken for Guy's mother would not haveoffended Mrs. Noah particularly; but how was she shocked when GrandpaMarkham said:

"I come on business with Squire Guy. Are you his gran'marm?" "Hisgran'marm!" and Mrs. Noah bit off the last syllable spitefully. "Blessyou, man, Squire Guy, as you call him, is twenty-five years old. "

As Grandpa Markham was rather blind, he failed to see the point, butknew that in some way he had given offense. 

"I beg your pardon, ma'am; I was sure you was some kin--maybe ana'nt. "

No, she was not even that; but willing enough to let the old manbelieve her a lady of the Remington order, she did not explain thatshe was simply the housekeeper, she simply said:

"If it's Mr. Guy you want, I can tell you he is not at home, whichwill save your getting out. "

"Not at home, and I've come so far to see him!" grandpa exclaimed, andin his voice there was so much genuine disappointment that Mrs. Noahrejoined, quite kindly:

"He's gone over to Devonshire with the young lady his stepmother. Perhaps you might tell your business to me; I know all Mr. Guy'saffairs. "

"If I might come in, ma'am, " he answered, meekly, as through the opendoor he caught glimpses of a cheerful fire. "It's mighty chilly forsuch as me. " He did look cold and blue, Mrs. Noah thought, and shebade him come in, feeling a very little contempt for the old-fashionedcamlet cloak in which his feet became entangled, and smiling inwardlyat the shrunken, faded pantaloons, betokening poverty. 

"As you know all Squire Guy's affairs, " grandpa said, when he wasseated before the fire, "maybe you could tell whether he would belikely to lend a stranger three hundred dollars, and that strangerme?"

Mrs. Noah stared at him aghast. Was he crazy, or did he mean to insulther master? Evidently neither. He seemed as sane as herself, while noone could associate an insult with him. He did not know anything. Thatwas the solution of his audacity, and pityingly, as she would haveaddressed a half idiot, Mrs. Noah made him understand how impossibleit was for him to think her master would lend to a stranger like him. 

"You say he's gone to Devonshire, " grandpa said, softly, with a quiveron his lip when she had finished. "I wish I'd knew it; I left mygranddarter there to be examined. Mabby I'll meet him going back, andcan ask him. "

"I tell you it won't be no use. Mr. Guy has no three hundred dollarsto throw away, " was Mrs. Noah's rather sharp rejoinder. 

"Wall, wall, we won't quarrel about it, " the old man replied, in hismost conciliatory manner, as he turned his head away to hide thestarting tear. 

Grandfather Markham's heart was very sore, and Mrs. Noah's harshnesstroubled him. He could not bear to think that she really was crosswith him, besides that he wanted something to carry Maddy besidesdisappointment, so by way of testing Mrs. Noah's amiability andpleasing Maddy, too, he said, as he arose: "I'm an old man, lady, oldenough to be your father. " Here Mrs. Noah's face grew brighter, andshe listened attentively while he continued: "You won't take what Isay amiss, I'm sure. I have a little girl at home, a grandchild, whohas heard big stories of the fine things at Aikenside. She has ahankerin' after such vanities, and it would please her mightily tohave me tell her what I saw up here, so maybe you wouldn't mindlettin' me go into that big room where the silk fixin's are. I'll takeoff 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 withraspberry jam and cream, she enjoyed nothing more than showing theirhandsome house. 

Conducting him through the wide, marbled hall, she ushered him intothe drawing-room, where for a time he stood perfectly bewildered. Itwas his first introduction to rosewood, velvet, and brocatelle, and itseemed to him as if he had suddenly been transported to fairy-land. 

"Maddy would like this--it's her nature, " he whispered, advancing astep or two, and setting down his feet as softly as if stepping oneggs. 

Happening to lift his eyes before one of the long mirrors, he spiedhimself, wondering much what that "queer-looking chap" was doing therein the midst of so much elegance, and why Mrs. Noah did not turn himout! Then mentally asking forgiveness for this flash of pride, anddetermined to make amends, he bowed low to the figure in the glass, which bowed as low in return, but did not reply to the very good-natured remark: "How d'ye do--pretty well, to-day?"

There was a familiar look about the round cape of the camlet cloak, and Grandpa Markham's face turned crimson as the truth burst upon him. 

"How 'shamed of me Maddy would be, " he thought, glancing sidewise atMrs. Noah, who had witnessed the blunder, and was now looking from thewindow to hide her laughter. 

Grandpa believed she did not see him, and comforted with that assurance, he began to remark upon the mirror, saying "it made it appear as if there was two of you, " a remark which Mrs. Noah fully appreciated. He saw the silk chairs, slyly touching one to see if it did feel like the gored, peach-blossom dress worn by his wife forty-two years ago that very spring. Then he tried one of them, examined the rare ornaments, and came near bowing again to the portrait of the first Mrs. Remington, so natural and lifelike it looked standing out from the canvas. 

"This will last Maddy a week. I thank you, ma'am. You have added someconsiderable to the happiness of a young girl, who wouldn't disgraceeven such a room as this, " he said, as he passed into the hall. 

Mrs. Noah received his thanks graciously, and led him to the yard, where Sorrel stood waiting for him. 

"Odd, but clever as the day is long, " was Mrs. Noah's comment, as, after seeing him safe out of her yard, she went back to her vegetableoysters boiling on the stove. 

Driving at a brisk trot through the grounds, Sorrel was soon out uponthe highway; and with spirits exhilarated by thoughts of going home, he kept up the trot until, turning a sudden corner, his master saw thecarriage from Aikenside approaching at a rapid rate. The driver, Paul, saw him too, but scorning to give half the road to such as Sorrel andthe square-boxed wagons, he kept steadily on, while Grandpa Markham, determined to speak with Guy, reined his horse a little nearer, raising his hand in token that the negro should stop. As a naturalconsequence, the wheels of the two vehicles became interlocked, and asthe powerful grays were more than a match for Sorrel, the front wheelof Grandpa Markham's wagon was wrenched off, and the old manprecipitated to the ground; which, fortunately for him, was in thatlocality covered with sand banks, so that he was only stunned for aninstant, and thus failed to hear the insolent negro's remark: "Servedyou right, old cove; might of turned out for gentlemen;" neither didhe see the sudden flashing of Guy Remington's eye, as, leaping fromhis carriage, he seized the astonished African by the collar, and, hurling him from the box, demanded what he meant by serving an old manso 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 wasdamaged, while he ran to the old man, who had recovered from the firstshock and was trying to extricate himself from the folds of his camletcloak. Nearby was a blacksmith's shop, and thither Guy ordered hisdriver to take the broken-down wagon with a view to getting itrepaired. 

"Tell him I want it done at once. " he said, authoritatively, as if hewell 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 theninvoluntarily grasping Guy's arm for support, as his weak knees beganto tremble from the effects of excitement and fright. 

"That darky shall rue this job, " Guy said, savagely, as he gazedpityingly upon the shaky old creature beside him. "I'll discharge himto-morrow. "

"No, young man. Don't be rash. He'll never do't again; and sprigs likehim think they've a right to make fun of old codgers like me, " wasgrandpa's meek expostulation. 

"Do, pray, Guy, how long must we wait here?" Agnes asked, impatiently, leaning back in the carriage and partially drawing her veil over herface as she glanced at Grandpa Markham, but a look from Guy silencedher; 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 totell you, but I wanted to borrow some money, and I didn't know nobodyas likely to have it as you. That woman up to your house said sheknowed 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 wasin the habit of consulting her with regard to his affairs, and nothingcould have been more unpropitious to the success of grandpa's suitthan the knowing she disapproved. Beside this, Guy had only theprevious week lost a small amount loaned under similar circumstances. Standing silent for a moment, while he buried and reburied his shiningpatent leather boots in the hills of sand, he said at last: "Candidly, sir, I don't believe I can accommodate you. I am about to make repairsat Aikenside, and have partially promised to loan money on goodsecurity to a Mr. Silas Slocum, who, 'if things work right, ' as heexpressed 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, turningwhite almost as his hair blowing in the April wind. "There's a streamof water on it, and he says if he forecloses and gets it he shallbuild 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 muchlarger 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 Slocuma note to-night saying I've changed my mind, and shall not let himhave 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 quicklygrandpa was about to say: "I am not so much a stranger as you think. Iknew 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 yearsago. " So Guy never suspected that the old man before him had once laidhis sire under a debt of gratitude. The more he reflected the lessinclined he was to lend the money, and as grandpa was too timid tourge his needs, the result was that when at last the wheel wasreplaced, and Sorrel again trotting on toward Devonshire, he drewafter him a sad, heavy heart, and not once until the village wasreached did he hear the cheery chuckle with which his kind master waswont to encourage him. 

"Poor Maddy! I dread tellin' her the most, she was so sure, " grandpawhispered, as he stopped before the office door, where Maddy waitedfor him. 

But Maddy's disappointment was keener than his own, and so after thesorrowful words, "and I failed, too, " he bent himself to comfort thepoor child, who, leaning her throbbing head against his shoulder, sobbed bitterly, as in the soft spring twilight they drove back to thelow red cottage where grandma waited for them. 

CHAPTER V. 

THE RESULT. 

It was Farmer Green's new buggy and Farmer Green's bay colt which, three days later than this, stopped before Dr. Holbrook's office. Notthe square-boxed wagon, with old Sorrel attached; the former wasstanding quietly in the chip-yard behind the low red house, while thelatter with his nose over the barnyard fence, neighing occasionally, as if he missed the little hands which had daily fed him the oatmealhe liked so much, and which now lay hot and parched and helpless uponthe white counterpane Grandma Markham had spun and woven herself. Maddy might have been just as sick as she was if the examination hadnever occurred, but it was natural for those who loved her to imputeit all to the effects of excitement and cruel disappointment, so therewas something like indignation mingling with the sorrow gnawing at thehearts of the old couple as they watched by their fever-strickendarling. Farmer Green, too, shared the feeling, and numerous at firstwere his mental animadversions against that "prig of a Holbrook. " Butwhen Maddy grew so bad as not to know him or his wife, he laid asidehis prejudices, and suggested to Grandpa Markham that Dr. Holbrook besent for. 

"He's great on fevers, " he said, "and is good on curin' sick folks, "so, though he would have preferred some one else should have beencalled, confidence in the young doctor's skill won the day, andgrandpa consented. 

This, then, was the errand of Farmer Green, and with his usualbluntness, he said to the recreant doctor, who chanced to be at home:

"Wall, you nigh about killed our little Madge t'other day, when yourefused the stifficut, and now we want you to cure her. "

The doctor looked up in surprise, but Farmer Green soon explained hismeaning, making out a most aggravated case, and representing Maddy aswild with delirium. 

"Keeps talkin' about the big books, the Latin and the Hebrew, and eventhe Catechism, as if such like was 'lowed in our school. I s'pose youdidn't know no better; but if Maddy dies, you'll have it to answerfor, I reckon. "

The doctor did not try to excuse himself, but hastily took down themedicines he thought he might need, and stowed them carefully away. Hehad expected to hear from that examination, but not in this way, andrather nervously he made some inquiries, as to how long she had beenill, and so forth. 

Maddy's case lost nothing by Mr. Green's account, and by the time thedoctor's horse was ready, and he on his way to the cottage, he hadarrived at the conclusion that of all the villainous men outside thewalls of the State's prison, he was the most villainous, and GuyRemington next. 

What a cozy little chamber it was where Maddy lay, just such a room asa girl like her might be supposed to occupy, and the bachelor doctorfelt like treading upon forbidden ground as he entered the room sorife with girlish habits, from the fairy slippers hung on a peg, tothe fanciful little workbox made of cones and acorns. Maddy wasasleep, and sitting down beside her, he asked that the shawl which hadbeen pinned across the window might be removed so that he could seeher, and thus judge better of her condition. They took the shawl away, and the sunlight came streaming in, disclosing to the doctor's viewthe face never before seen distinctly, or thought about, if seen. Itwas ghastly pale, save where the hot blood seemed bursting through thecheeks, while the beautiful brown hair was brushed back from the browwhere the veins were swollen and full. The lips were slightly apart, and the hot breath came in quick, panting gasps, while occasionally afaint moan escaped them, and once the doctor heard, or thought heheard, the sound of his own name. One little dimpled hand lay upon thebedspread, but the doctor did not touch it. Ordinarily he would havegrasped it as readily as if it had been a piece of marble, but thesight of Maddy, lying there so sick, and the fearing he had helped tobring her where she was, awoke to life a curious state of feeling withregard to her, making him almost as nervous as on the day when sheappeared before him as candidate No. 1. 

"Feel her pulse, doctor; they are faster most than you can count, "Grandma Markham whispered; and thus entreated, the doctor took thesoft hand in his own, its touch sending through his frame a thrillsuch as the touch of no other hand had ever sent. 

Somehow the act reassured him. All fear of Maddy vanished, leavingbehind only an intense desire to help, if possible, the young girlwhose fingers seemed to cling around his own as he felt for and foundthe rapid pulse, "If she could awaken, " he said, laying the hand softly down andplacing his other upon her forehead, where the great sweat drops lay. 

And, after a time, Maddy did awaken, but in the eyes fixed, for amoment, so intently on him, there was no look of recognition, and thedoctor was half glad that it was so. He did not wish her to associatehim with her late disastrous disappointment; he would rather sheshould think of him as some one come to cure her, for cure her hewould, he said to himself, as he gazed into her childish face andthought how sad it was for such as she to die. When first he enteredthe cottage he had been struck with the extreme plainness of thefurniture, betokening that wealth had not there an abiding place, butnow he forgot everything except the sick girl, who grew more and morerestless, talking of him and the Latin verb which meant "to love, " shesaid, and which was not in the grammar. 

"Guy was a fool and I was a brute, " the doctor muttered, as he foldedup the bits of paper whose contents he hoped might do much towardsaving Maddy's life. 

Then, promising to come again, he rode rapidly away, to visit otherpatients, who, that afternoon, were in danger of being sadlyneglected, so constantly was their young physician's mind dwellingupon the little, low-walled chamber where Maddy Clyde was lying. Asnight closed in she knew them all, and heard that Dr. Holbrook hadbeen there prescribing for her. Turning her face to the wall, sheseemed to be thinking; then, calling her grandmother to her, shewhispered: "Did he smooth my hair back and say, 'poor child?'"

Her grandmother hardly thought he did, though she was not in the roomall the time, she said. "He had stayed a long while and was greatlyinterested. "

Maddy had a vague remembrance of such an incident, and in her heartforgave the doctor for his rejection, thinking only how handsome hehad looked, even while tormenting her with such unheard of questions, and how kind he was to her now. The sight of her grandfather awakeneda new train of ideas, and bidding him to sit beside her, she asked iftheir home must be sold. Maddy was not to be put off with an evasion, and so grandpa told her honestly at last that Slocum would foreclose, but not while she was sick; he had been seen that day by Mr. Green, and had promised so much forbearance. 

This was the last rational conversation held with Maddy for many aweek, and when next morning the doctor came, there was a look of deepanxiety upon his face as he watched the alarming symptoms of hisdelirious patient, who talked incessantly, not of the examination now, but of the mortgage and the foreclosure, begging the doctor to seethat the house was not sold, to tell them she was earning thirty-sixdollars by teaching school, that Beauty should be sold to save theirdear old home. All this was strange at first to the doctor, but therather voluble Mrs. Green, who had come to Grandma Markham's relief, enlightened him, dwelling with a kind of malicious pleasure upon thefact that Maddy's earnings, had she been permitted to get a"stifficut, " were to be appropriated toward paying the debt. 

If the doctor had hated himself the previous day when he from the redcottage gate, he hated himself doubly now as he went dashing down theroad, determined to resign his office of school inspector that veryday. 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 morecandidates came he should either turn them from his door or give thema certificate without asking a question. 

"Put anybody you like in my place, " he said; "anybody but GuyRemington. Don't for thunder's sake take him. "

There was no probability of this, as Guy lived in another town, andcould not have officiated had he wished. But the doctor was too muchexcited to reason upon anything save Madeline Clyde's case. That heperfectly understood; and during the next few weeks his other patientswaited many times in vain for his coming, while he sat by Maddy's sidewatching every change, whether for the worse or better. Even AgnesRemington was totally neglected; and so one day she sent Guy down toDevonshire to say that as Jessie seemed more than usually delicate, she wished the doctor to take her under his charge and visit her atleast once a week. The doctor was not at home, but Tom said heexpected him every moment. So seating himself in the armchair, Guywaited until he came. 

"Well, Hal, " he began, jocosely, but the joking words he would haveuttered next died on his lips as he noticed the strange look ofexcitement 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, "youand I are murderers in the first degree. Yes; and both deserve to behung. Do you remember that Madeline Clyde whom you insulted with yourlogic and Latin verbs? She'd set her heart on that certificate. Shewanted the money, not for new gowns and fooleries mind, but to helpher old grandfather pay his debts. His place is mortgaged. I don'tunderstand it; but he asked some old hunks to lend him the money, andthe miserly rascal, whoever he was, refused. I wish I had it. I'd giveit to him out and out. But that's nothing to do with the girl--Maddythey call her. The disappointment killed her, and she's dying--israving crazy--and keeps talking of that confounded examination. I tellyou, Guy, my inward parts get terribly mixed up when I hear her talk, and my heart thumps like a trip-hammer. That's the reason I have notbeen up to Aikenside. I wouldn't leave Maddy so long as there washope. I did not tell them this morning. I couldn't make that poorcouple feel worse than they are feeling; but when I looked at her, tossing from side to side and picking at the bedclothes, I knew itwould soon be over--that when I saw her again the poor little armswould be still enough and the bright eyes shut forever. Guy, Icouldn'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'llhear the bell toll, I reckon. There is none at Honedale Church, whichthey attend. They are Episcopalians, you see, and so they'll come uphere, maybe. I hope I shall be deafer than an adder. "

Here the doctor stopped, wholly out of breath, while Guy for a momentsat without speaking a single word. Jessie, in his hearing, had toldher mother what the sick girl in the doctor's office had said aboutbeing poor and wanting the money for grandpa, while Mrs. Noah hadgiven him a rather exaggerated account of Mr. Markham's visit; but hehad not associated the two together until now, when he saw the whole, and almost as much as the doctor himself regretted the part he had hadin Maddy's illness and her grandfather's distress. 

"Doc, " he said, laying his hand on the doctor's arm, "I am that oldhunks, the miserly rascal who refused the money. I met the old mangoing home that day, and he asked me for help. You say the place mustbe sold. It never shall, never. I'll see to that, and you must savethe girl. "

"I can't, Guy. I've done all I can, and now, if she lives, it will bewholly owing to the prayers that old saint of a grandfather says forher. I never thought much of these things until I heard him pray; notthat she should live anyway, but that if it were right Maddy might notdie. Guy, there's something in such a prayer as that. It's morepowerful than all my medicine swallowed at one grand gulp. "

Guy didn't know very much about praying then, and so he did notrespond, but he thought of Lucy Atherstone, whose life was one hymn ofprayer and praise, and he wished she could know of Maddy, and join herpetitions with those of the grandfather. Starting suddenly from hischair, he exclaimed, "I'm going down there. It will look queerly, too, to go alone. Ah, I have it! I'll drive back to Aikenside for Jessie, who has talked so much of the girl that her lady mother, forgettingthat she was once a teacher, is disgusted. Yes, I'll take Jessie withme, 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, nomatter what, provided it's not strychnine. "

Contrary to Guy's expectations, Agnes did not refuse to let Jessie gofor a ride, particularly as she had no suspicion where he intendedtaking her, and the little girl was soon seated by her brother's side, chatting merrily of the different things they passed upon the road. But when Guy told her where they were going, and why they were goingthere, the tears came at once into her eyes, and hiding her face inGuy's lap she sobbed bitterly. 

"I did like her so much that day, " she said, "and she looked so sorry, too. It's terrible to die!"

Then she plied Guy with questions concerning Maddy's probable future. "Would she go to heaven, sure?" and When Guy answered at random, "Yes, " she asked, "How did he know? Had he heard that Maddy was thatkind of good which lets folks in heaven? Because, Brother Guy, " andthe little preacher nestled closely to the young man, fingering hiscoat buttons as she talked, "because, Brother Guy, folks can be good--that is, not do naughty things--and still God won't love them unlessthey--I don't know what, I wish I did. "

Guy drew her nearer to him, but to that childish yearning forknowledge 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. Shetold me about it, and taught me to pray different from mamma. Do youpray, Brother Guy?"

The question startled the young man, who was glad his coachman spoketo him just then, asking if he should drive through Devonshirevillage, or go direct to Honedale by a shorter route. 

They would go to the village, Guy said, hoping that thus the doctormight be persuaded to accompany them. This diverted Jessie's mind, andshe said no more of praying; but the first tiny grain was sown, themustard seed, which should hereafter spring up into a mighty tree, theindirect result of Maddy's disappointment and almost fatal illness. They found the doctor at home and willing to go with them. Indeed, soimpatient had he become listening for the first stroke of the bellwhich was to herald the death he deemed so sure, that he was on thepoint of mounting his horse and galloping off alone, when Guy'sinvitation came. It was five miles from Devonshire to Honedale, andwhen they reached a hill which lay halfway between, they stopped for afew moments to rest the tired horses. Suddenly, as they sat waiting, asharp, ringing sound fell on their ears, and grasping Guy's knee, thedoctor said, "I told you so; Madeline Clyde is dead. "

It was the village bell, and its twice three strokes betokened that ittolled for somebody youthful, somebody young, like Maddy Clyde. Jessiewept silently, but there were no tears in the eyes of the young men, as with beating hearts they sat listening to the slow, solemn soundswhich came echoing up the hill. There was a pause; the sexton'sdirgelike task was done, and now it only remained for him to strikethe age, and tell how many years the departed one had numbered. 

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten;" Jessiecounted it aloud, while every stroke fell like a heavy blow upon thehearts of the young men, who a few weeks ago, knew not that such asMaddy Clyde had ever had existence. 

How long it seemed before another stroke, and Guy was beginning tohope they'd heard the last, when again the dull, muffled sound camefloating on the air, and Dr. Holbrook's black, bearded lip halfquivered as he now counted aloud, "one, two, three, four, five. "

That was all; there it stopped; and vain were all their listenings tocatch another note. Fifteen years, and only fifteen had passed overthe form now forever still. 

"She was fifteen, " Guy whispered, remembering distinctly to have heardthat number from Maddy herself. 

"I thought they told me fourteen, but of course it's she, " the doctorrejoined. "Poor child, I would have given much to have saved her. "

Jessie did not talk; only once, when she asked Guy, if it was very farto heaven, and if he supposed Maddy had got there by this time. 

"We'll go just the same, " said Guy. "I will do what I can for the oldman;" and so the carriage drove on, down the hill, across themeadow-land, and past a low-roofed house whose walls inclosed the stiffened form of him for whom the bell had tolled, the boy, fifteen years of age, who had been the patient of another than Dr. Holbrook. 

Maddy was not dead, but the paroxysm of restlessness had passed, andshe lay now in a heavy sleep so nearly resembling death that they whowatched, waited expectantly to see the going out of her last breath. Never before had a carriage like that from Aikenside stopped at thathumble cottage, but the neighbors thought it came merely to bring thedoctor, whom they welcomed with a glad smile, making a way for him topass to Maddy's bedside. Guy preferred waiting in the carriage untilsuch time as Grandpa Markham could speak with him, but Jessie wentwith the doctor into the sick room, startling even the grandmother, and causing her to wonder who the richly-dressed child could be. 

"Dying, doctor, " said one of the women, affirmatively, notinterrogatively; but the doctor shook his head, and holding in onehand his watch he counted the faint pulse beats as with his eye hemeasured off the minute. 

"There are too many here, " he said. "She needs the air you arebreathing, " and in his singular, authoritative way, he cleared thecrowded room of the mistaken friends who were unwittingly breathing upMaddy's very life. 

All but the grandparents and Jessie; these he suffered to remain, andsitting down by Maddy, watched till the long sleep was ended. Silentlyand earnestly the aged couple prayed for their darling, asking that ifpossible she might be spared, and God heard their prayers, lifting, atlast, the heavy fog from Maddy's brain, and waking her to life andpartial consciousness. It was Jessie who first caught the expressionof the opening eyes, and darting forward, she exclaimed, "She's wakedup, Dr. Holbrook. She will live. "

Wonderingly Maddy looked at her, and then as a confused recollectionof where they had met before crossed her mind, she smiled faintly, andsaid:

"Where am I now? Have I never come home, and is this Dr. Holbrook'soffice?"

"No, no; it's home, your home, and you are getting well, " Jessiecried, bending over the bewildered girl. "Dr. Holbrook has cured you, and Guy is here, and I, and--"

"Hush, you disturb her, " the doctor said, gently pulling Jessie away, and himself asking Maddy how she felt. 

She did not recognize him. She only had a vague idea that he might besome doctor, but not Dr. Holbrook, sure; not the one who had sopuzzled and tortured her on a day which seemed now so far behind. Fromthe white-haired man kneeling by the bedside there was a burst ofthanksgiving for the life restored, and then Grandpa Markham totteredfrom the room, out into the open air, which had never fallen sorefreshingly on his tried frame as it fell now, when he first knewthat Maddy would live. He did not care for his homestead; that mightgo, and he still be happy with Maddy left. But He who had marked thattrue disciple's every sigh, had another good in store, willing it sothat both should come together, even as the two disappointments hadcome hand in hand. 

From the soft cushions of his carriage, where he sat reclining, GuyRemington saw the old man as he came out, and alighting at once, heaccosted 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 waseasy to go back to the day when Guy had first met grandpa, whoseapplication for money he had refused. 

"I have thought better of it since, " he said, "and am sorry I did notaccede to your proposal. One object of my coming here to-day was tosay that my purse is at your disposal. You can have as much as youwish, paying me whenever you like, and the house shall not be sold. Slocum, I understand, holds the mortgage. I will see him to-morrow andstop the whole proceeding. "

Guy spoke rapidly, determined to make a clean breast of it, butgrandpa understood him, and bowing his white head upon his bosom, thebig tears dropped like rain upon the turf, while his lips quivered, first with thanks to the Providence who had truly done all thingswell, and next with thanks to his benefactor. 

"Blessings on your head, young man, for making me so happy. You areworthy of your father, and he was the best of men. "

"My father--did you know him?" Guy asked, in some surprise, and thenthe 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 hisroom, and his own nervous fear which made him powerless to act, another guest braved fearlessly the hissing flame, and scaling thetottering wall, dragged out to life and liberty one who, until thathour, was to him an utter stranger. 

Pushing back his snowy hair, Grandfather Markham showed upon histemple a long, white scar, obtained the night when he periled his ownlife to save that of another. There was a doubly warm pressure now ofthe old man's hand, as Guy replied, "I've heard that story from fatherhimself, but the name of his preserver had escaped me. Why didn't youtell me who you were?"

"I thought 'twould look too much like demanding it as a right--toomuch like begging, and I s'pose I felt too proud. Pride is mybesetting sin--the one I pray most against. "

Guy looked keenly now at the man whose besetting sin was pride, and ashe marked the cheapness of his attire, his pantaloons faded and short, his coat worn threadbare and shabby, his shoes both patched at thetoes, his cotton shirt minus a bosom, and then thought of the humblecottage, with its few rocky acres, he wondered of what he could beproud. 

Meantime, for Maddy, Dr. Holbrook had prescribed perfect quiet, bidding them darken again the window from which the shade had beenremoved, and ordering all save the grandmother to leave the room andlet the patient sleep, if possible. Even Jessie was not permitted tostay, though Maddy clung to her as to a dear friend. In a fewwhispered words Jessie had told her name, saying she came fromAikenside, and that her Brother Guy was there, too, outdoors, in thecarriage. "He heard how sick you were at Devonshire, this morning, anddrove right home for me to come to see you. I told him of you that dayin the office, and that's why he brought me, I guess. You'll like Guy. I know all the girls do--he's so good. "

Sick and weary as she was, and unable as yet to comprehend the entiremeaning of all she heard, Maddy was conscious of a thrill of pride inknowing that Guy Remington, from Aikenside, was interested in her, andhad brought his sister to see her. Winding her feeble arms aroundJessie's neck, she kissed the soft, warm cheek, and said, "You'll comeagain, I hope. "

"Yes, every day, if mamma will let me. I don't mind it a bit, if youare poor. "

"Tut, tut, little tattler!" and Dr. Holbrook, who, unseen by thechildren, had all the while been standing near, took Jessie by thearm. "What makes you think them poor?"

In the closely-shaded room Maddy could see nothing distinctly, but sheheard Jessie's reply: "Because the plastering comes down so low, andMaddy's pillows are so teenty, not much bigger than my dolly's. But Ilove her; don't you doctor?"

Through the darkness the doctor caught the sudden flash of Maddy'seyes, and something impelled him to lay his cool, broad hand on herforehead, as he replied, "I love all my patients;" then, takingJessie's arm, he led her out to where Guy was waiting for her. 

CHAPTER VI. 

CONVALESCENCE. 

Had it not been for the presence of Dr. Holbrook, who, accepting Guy'sinvitation to tea, rode back with him to Aikenside, Mrs. Agnes wouldhave gone off into a passion when told that Jessie had been "exposedto fever and mercy knows what. "

"There's no telling what one will catch among the very poor, " she saidto Dr. Holbrook, as she clasped and unclasped the heavy gold braceletsflashing on her white, round arm. 

"I'll be answerable for any disease Jessie caught at Mr. Markham's, "the doctor replied. 

"At Mr. Who's? What did you call him?" Agnes asked, the bright coloron her cheek fading as the doctor replied:

"Markham--an old man who lives in Honedale. You never knew him, ofcourse. "

Involuntarily Agnes glanced at Guy, in whose eye there was, as shefancied, a peculiar expression. Could it be he knew the secret sheguarded so carefully? Impossible, she said to herself; but still thewhite fingers trembled as she handled the china and silver, and foronce she was glad when the doctor took his leave, and she was alonewith Jessie. 

"What was that girl's name?" she asked, "the one you went to see?"

"Maddy, mother--Madeline Clyde. She's so pretty. I'm going to see heragain. May I?"

Agnes did not reply directly, but continued to question the child withregard to the cottage which Jessie thought so funny, slanting awayback, she said, so that the roof on one side almost touched theground. The window panes, too, were so very tiny, and the room whereMaddy lay sick was small and low. 

"Yes, yes, I know, " Agnes said at last, impatiently, weary of hearingof the cottage whose humble exterior and interior she knew so muchbetter than Jessie herself. 

But this was not to be divulged; for surely the haughty AgnesRemington, who, in Boston, aspired to lead in society into which, asthe wife of Dr. Remington, she had been admitted, and who, inAikenside, was looked upon with envy, could have nothing in commonwith the red cottage or its inmates. So when Jessie asked again if shecould not visit Maddy on the morrow, she answered decidedly: "No, daughter, no. I do not wish you to associate with such people, " andwhen Jessie insisted on knowing why she must not associate with suchpeople as Maddy Clyde, the answer was: "Because you are a Remington, "and as if this of itself were of an unanswerable objection, Agnes senther child from her, refusing to talk longer on a subject sodisagreeable to her and so suggestive of the past. It was all in vainthat Jessie, and even Guy himself, tried to revoke the decision. Jessie should not be permitted to come in contact with that kind ofpeople, she said, or incur the risk of catching that dreadful fever. 

So day after day, while life and health were slowly throbbing throughher veins, Maddy waited and longed for the little girl whose one visitto her sick room seemed so much like a dream. From her grandfather shehad heard the good news of Guy Remington's generosity, and that, quiteas much as Dr. Holbrook's medicines, helped to bring the color back tothe pallid cheek and the brightness to her eyes. 

She was asleep the first time the doctor came after the occasion ofJessie's visit, and as sleep, be said, would do her more good thananything he might prescribe, he did not awaken her; but for a longtime, as it seemed to Grandma Markham, who stood very little in awe ofthe Boston doctor, he watched her as she slept, now clasping theblue-veined wrist as he felt for the pulse, and now wiping from herforehead the drops of sweat, or pushing back her soft, damp hair. Itwould be three days before he could see her again, for a sick fatherin Cambridge needed his attention, and after numerous directions as tothe administering of sundry powders and pills, he left her, feelingthat the next three days would be long ones to him. Dr. Holbrook didnot stop to analyze the nature of his interest in Maddy Clyde--aninterest so different from any he had ever felt before for hispatients; and even if he had sought to solve the riddle, he would havesaid that the knowing how he had wronged her was the sole cause of histhinking far more of her and of her case than of the thirty otherpatients on his list. Dr. Holbrook was a handsome man, a thoroughscholar, and a most skillful physician; but ladies who expected fromhim those little polite attentions which the sex value so highlygenerally expected in vain, for he was no ladies' man, and hislanguage and manners were oftentimes abrupt, even when both wereprompted by the utmost kindness of heart. In his organization, too, there was not a quick perception of what would be exactly appropriate, and so, when, at last, he was about starting to visit Maddy again, hepuzzled his brains until they fairly ached with wondering what hecould do to give her a pleasant surprise and show that he was not asformidable a personage as her past experience might lead her to think. 

"If I could only take her something, " he said, glancing ruefullyaround his office. "Now, if she were Jessie, nuts and raisins mightanswer--but she must not eat such trash as that, " and he set himselfto think again, just as Guy Remington rode up, bearing in his hand amost exquisite bouquet, whose fragrance filled the medicine-odoredoffice at once, and whose beauty elicited an exclamation of delighteven from the matter-of-fact Dr. Holbrook. 

"I thought you might be going down to Honedale, as I knew you returnedlast night, so I brought these flowers for your patient with mycompliments, or if you prefer I give them to you, and you can thuspresent them as if coming from yourself. "

"As if I would do that, " the doctor answered, taking the bouquet inhis hand the better to examine and admire it. "Did you arrange it, oryour gardener?" he asked, and when Guy replied that the merit ofarrangement, if merit there were, belonged to himself, he began todeprecate his own awkwardness and want of tact. "Here I have beencudgeling my head this half hour trying to think what I could take heras a peace offering, and could think of nothing, while you--Well, youand I are different entirely. You know just what is proper--just whatto say, and when to say it--while I am a perfect bore, and withoutdoubt shall make some ludicrous blunder in delivering the flowers. To-day will be the first time really that we meet, as she was sleepingwhen I was there last, while on all other occasions she has paid noattention whatever to me. "

For a moment Guy regarded his friend attentively, noticing now thatextra care had been bestowed upon his toilet, that the collar wasfresh from the laundry, and the new cravat tied in a mostunexceptionable manner, instead of being twisted into a hard knot, with the ends looking as if they had been chewed. 

"Doc, " he said, when his survey was completed, "how old are you--twenty-five or twenty-six?"

"Twenty-five--just your age--why?" and the doctor looked with anexpression 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, onthe whole, I would not like to be your son; so I guess you'd bettertake some one younger--say Jessie. You are only eighteen years hersenior. "

The doctor stared at him amazed, and when he had finished said withthe utmost candor: "What has that to do with Madeline? I thought wewere talking of her. " "Innocent as the newly-born babe, " was Guy'smental comment, as he congratulated himself on his larger and morevaried experience. 

And truly Dr, Holbrook was as simple-hearted as a child, neverdreaming of Guy's meaning, or that any emotion save a perfectly properone had a lodgment in his breast as he drove down to Honedale, guarding carefully Guy's bouquet, and wishing he knew just what heought to say when he presented it. 

Maddy had gained rapidly the last three days. Good nursing and thedoctor's medicines were working miracles, and on the morning when thedoctor, with Guy's bouquet, was riding rapidly toward Honedale, shewas feeling so much better that in view of his coming she asked if shecould not be permitted to receive him sitting in the rocking-chair, instead of lying there in bed, and when this plan was vetoed asutterly impossible, she asked, anxiously:

"And must I see him in this nightgown? Can't I have on my pink ginghamwrapper?"

Hitherto Maddy had been too sick to care at all about her personalappearance, but it was different now. She did care, and thoughts ofmeeting again the handsome, stylish-looking man who had asked her toconjugate _amo_ and whom she fully believed to be Dr. Holbrook, made her rather nervous. Dim remembrances she had of some one glidingin and out, and when the pain and noise in her head was at itshighest, a hand, large, and, oh! so cool had been laid upon hertemples, quieting their throbbings and making the blood course lessmadly through the swollen veins. They had told her how kind, howattentive he had been, and to herself she had said: "He's sorry aboutthat certificate. He wishes to show me that he did not mean to beunkind. Yes; I forgive him: for I really was very stupid thatafternoon. "

And so, in a most forgiving frame of mind, Maddy submitted to thesnowy robe which grandma brought in place of the coveted ginghamwrapper, and which became her well, with its daintily-crimped rufflesabout the neck and wrists. Those wrists and hands! How white and smallthey had grown! and Maddy sighed, as her grandmother buttoned togetherthe wristbands, to see how loose it was. 

"I have been very sick, " she said. "Are my cheeks as thin as my arms?"

They were not, though they had lost some of their symmetricalroundness. Still there was much of childish beauty in the young, eagerface, and the hair had lost comparatively none of its glossybrightness. 

"That's him, " grandma said, as the sound of a horse's gallop washeard, and in a moment the doctor reined up before the gate. 

From Mrs. Markham, who met him in the door, he learned how much bettershe was; also how "she has been reckoning on this visit, makingherself all a-sweat about it. "

Suddenly the doctor felt returning all his old dread of Maddy Clyde. Why should she wrong herself into a sweat? What was there in thatvisit different from any other? Nothing, he said to himself, nothing;and yet he, too, had been more anxious about it than any he had everpaid. Depositing his hat and gloves upon the table, he followed Mrs. Markham up the stairs, vaguely conscious of wishing she would staydown, and very conscious of feeling glad; when just at Maddy's doorand opposite a little window, she espied the hens busily engaged indevouring the yeast cakes, with which she had taken so much pains, andwhich she had placed in the hot sun to dry. Finding that they paid noheed to her loud "Shoo, shoos, " she started herself to drive themaway, telling the doctor to go right on and to help himself. 

The perspiration was standing under Maddy's hair by this time, andwhen the doctor stepped across the threshold, and she knew he reallywas coming near her, it oozed out upon her forehead in big, rounddrops, while her cheeks glowed with a feverish heat. Thinking heshould get along with it better if he treated her just as he wouldJessie, 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 raisedher hands to thrust the stranger away. This black-eyed, black-haired, thick-set man was not Dr. Holbrook, for he was taller, and moreslight, while she had not been deceived in the dark brown eyes which, even while they seemed to be mocking her, had worn a strangefascination for the maiden of fourteen and a half. The doctor fanciedher delirious again, and this reassured him at once. Dropping thebouquet upon the bed, he clasped one of her hands in his, and withoutthe slightest idea that she comprehended him, said, soothingly:

"Poor child, are you afraid of me--the doctor, Dr. Holbrook?" Maddydid not try to withdraw her hand, but raising her eyes, swimming intears, to his face, she stammered out:

"What does it mean, and where is he--the one who--asked me--thosedreadful 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 theback office. Don't you remember me? Please don't grow excited. Composeyourself, and I will explain all by and by. This is wrong. 'Twillnever do, " and talking thus rapidly he wiped away the sweat, aboutwhich grandma had told him. 

Maddy was disappointed, and it took her some time to rallysufficiently to convince the doctor that she was not flighty, as hetermed it; but composing herself at last, she answered all hisquestions, and then, as he saw her eyes wandering toward the bouquet, he suddenly remembered that it was not yet presented, and placing itin 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 wantedflowers so badly; but I could not have them, because I was sick anddid not work in the garden. It was so good in you, " and in her delightMaddy's tears dropped upon the fair blossoms. 

For a moment the doctor was sorely tempted to keep the credit thusenthusiastically given; but he was too truthful for that, and sowatching her as her eyes glistened with pleased excitement, he said:

"I am glad you like them, Miss Clyde, and so will Mr. Remington be. Hesent them to you from his conservatory. "

"Not Mr. Remington from Aikenside--not Jessie's brother?" and Maddy'seyes now fairly danced as they sought the doctor's face. 

"Yes Jessie's brother. He came here with her. He is interested in you, and brought these down this morning. "

"It was Jessie, I guess, who sent them, " Maddy suggested, but thedoctor persisted that it was Guy. 

"He wished me to present them with his compliments. He thought theymight please you. "

"Oh! they do, they do!" Maddy replied. "They almost make me well. Tellhim 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 changedhis mind ere the words were uttered. She might not think as well ofGuy, he thought, and there was no harm in keeping it back. 

So Maddy had no suspicion that the face she thought of so muchbelonged to Guy Remington. She had never seen him, of course; but shehoped she would some time, so as to thank him for his generosity toher grandfather and his kindness to herself. Then, as she rememberedthe message she had sent him, she began to think that it sounded toofamiliar, and said to the doctor:

"If you please, don't tell Mr. Remington that I said I liked him--onlythat I thank him. He would think it queer for a poor girl like me tosend 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 incollege together. "

"You were?" Maddy exclaimed. "Then you know him well, and Jessie, andyou've been to Aikenside often? There's nothing in the world I want somuch as to go to Aikenside. They say it is so beautiful. "

"Maybe I'll carry you up there some day when you are strong enough toride, " the doctor answered, thinking of his light buggy at home, andwondering he had not used it more, instead of always riding onhorseback. 

Dr. Holbrook looked much older than he was, and to Maddy he seemedquite fatherly, so that the idea of riding with him, aside from thehonor it might be to her, struck her much as riding with Farmer Greenwould have done. The doctor, too, imagined that his proposition wasprompted solely from disinterested motives, but he found himselfwondering how long it would be before Maddy would be able to ride alittle distance, just over the hill and back. He was tiring her allout talking to her; but somehow it was very delightful there in thatsick room, with the summer sunshine stealing through the window andfalling upon the soft reddish-brown head resting on the pillows. Oncehe fixed those pillows, arranging them so nicely that grandma, who hadcome in from her hens and yeast cakes, declared "he was as handy as awoman, " and after receiving a few general directions with regard tothe future, "guessed, if he wasn't in a hurry, she'd leave him withMaddy a spell, as there were a few chores she must do. "

The doctor knew that at least a dozen individuals were waiting for himthat moment; but still he was in no hurry, he said, and so for half anhour longer he sat there talking of Guy, and Jessie, and Aikenside, and wondering he had never before observed how very becoming a whitewrapper was to sick girls like Maddy Clyde. Had he been asked thequestion, he could not have told whether his other patients werehabited in buff, or brown, or tan color; but he knew all about Maddy'sgarb, and thought the dainty frill around her slender throat theprettiest "puckered piece" that he had ever seen. How, then, was Dr. Holbrook losing his heart to that little girl of fourteen and a half?He did not think so. Indeed, he did not think anything about hisheart, though thoughts of Maddy Clyde were pretty constantly with him, as after leaving her he paid his round of visits. 

The Aikenside carriage was standing at Mrs. Conner's gate when hereturned, and Jessie came running out to meet him, followed by Guy, while Agnes, in the most becoming riding habit, sat by the windowlooking as unconcerned at his arrival as if it were not the very eventfor which she had been impatiently waiting, Jessie was a great petwith the doctor, and, lifting her lightly in his arms, he kissed herforehead where the golden curls were clustering and said to her:

"I have seen Maddy Clyde. She asked for you, and why you do not cometo see her, as you promised. "

"Mother won't let me, " Jessie answered. "She says they are not fitassociates for a Remington. "

There was a sudden flash of contempt on the doctor's face, and a gleamof wrath in Agnes' eyes as she motioned Jessie to be silent, and thengracefully received the doctor, who by this time was in the room. Asif determined to monopolize the conversation, and keep it from turningon the Markhams, Agnes rattled on for nearly fifteen minutes, scarcelyallowing Guy a chance for uttering a word. But Guy bided his time, andseized the first favorable opportunity to inquire after Madeline. 

She was improving rapidly, the doctor said, adding: "You ought to haveseen her delight when I gave her your bouquet. "

"Indeed, " and Agnes bridled haughtily; "I did not know that Guy was inthe habit of sending bouquets to such as this Clyde girl. I reallymust report him to Miss Atherstone. "

Guy's seat was very near to Agnes, and while a cloud overspread hisfine features, he said to her in an aside:

"Please say in your report that the worst thing about this Clyde girlis that she aspires to be a teacher, and possibly a governess. "

There was an emphasis on the last word which silenced Agnes and sether to beating her French gaiter on the carpet; while Guy, turningback to the doctor, replied to his remark:

"She was pleased, then?"

"Yes; she must be vastly fond of flowers, though I sometimes fanciedthe fact of being noticed by you afforded almost as much satisfactionas the bouquet itself. She evidently regards you as a superior being, and Aikenside as a second Paradise, and asking innumerable questionsabout you and Jessie, too. "

"Did she honor me with an inquiry?" Agnes asked, her tone indicativeof sarcasm, though she was greatly interested as well as relieved bythe reply:

"Yes; she said she heard that Jessie's mother was a beautiful woman, and asked if you were not born in England. "

"She's mixed me up with Lucy. Guy, you must go down and enlightenher, " Agnes said, laughing merrily and appearing more at ease than shehad before since Maddy Clyde had been the subject of conversation. 

Guy did not go down to Honedale--but fruit and flowers, and once abottle 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 achildish note from Jessie, some of it printed and some in the unevenhand of a child just commencing to write. 

It was as follows:

"DEAD MADDY: I think that is such a pretty name, and so does Guy, andso does the doctor, too. I want to come see you, but mamma won't letme. I think of you ever so much, and so does Guy, I guess, for hesends you lots of things. Guy is a nice brother, and is most as old asmamma. Ain't that funny? You know my first ma is dead. The doctortells us about you when he comes to Aikenside. I wish he'd comeoftener, for I love him a bushel--don't you? Yours respectfully, "JESSIE AGNES REMINGTON. 

"P. S. --I am going to tuck this in just for fun, right among the buds, where you must look for it. "

This note Maddy read and reread until she knew it by heart, particularly the part relating to Guy. Hitherto she had notparticularly liked her name, greatly preferring that it should havebeen Eliza Ann, or Sarah Jane; but the knowing that Guy Remingtonfancied it made a vast difference, and did much toward reconcilingher. She did not even see the clause, "and the doctor, too. " Hisattentions and concern she took as a matter of course, so quietly andso constantly had they been given. The day was very long now which didnot bring him to the cottage; but she missed him much as she wouldhave missed her brother, if she had had one, though her pulse alwaysquickened and her cheeks glowed when she heard him at the gate. Theinner power did not lie deeper than a great friendliness for one whohad been instrumental in saving her life. They had talked over thematter of her examination, the doctor blaming himself more than wasnecessary for his ignorance as to what was required of a teacher; butwhen she asked who was his proxy, he had again answered, evasively: "Afriend from Boston. "

And this he did to shield Guy, whom he knew was enshrined in thelittle 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 Maddywas strong enough he took her with him one day, himself adjusting theshawl which grandma wrapped around her, and pulling a little fartheron the white sunbonnet which shaded the sweet, pale face, where theroses were just beginning to bloom again. The doctor was very happythat morning, and so, too, was Maddy, talking to him upon the theme ofwhich she never tired, Guy Remington, Jessie and Aikenside. Was it asbeautiful a place as she had heard it was, and didn't he think itwould be delightful to live there?

"I suppose Mr. Guy will be bringing a wife there some day when hefinds 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 feeltired, and thus gave vent to her weariness. 

The doctor, however, did not so construe it. He heard the sigh, andfor the first time when listening to her as she talked of Guy, a keenthrob of pain shot through his heart, a something as near akin tojealousy as it was possible for him then to feel. But all unused as hewas to the workings of love he did not at that moment dream of such anemotion in connection with Madeline Clyde. He only knew that somethingaffected him unpleasantly, prompting him, for some reason, to tellMaddy Clyde about Lucy Atherstone, who, in all probability, would oneday come to Aikenside as its mistress. 

"Yes, Guy will undoubtedly marry, " he began, just as over the top ofthe easy hill they were ascending horses' heads were visible, and theAikenside carriage appeared in view. "There he is now, " he exclaimed, adding quickly: "No, I am mistaken, there's only a lady inside. Itmust be Agnes. "

It was Agnes driving out alone, for the sole purpose of passing aplace which had a singular attraction for her, the old, red cottage inHonedale. She recognized the doctor, and guessed whom he had with him, Putting up her glass, for which she had no more need than Jessie, shescrutinized the little figure bundled up in shawls, while she smiledher sweetest smile upon the doctor, showing to good advantage herwhite teeth, and shaking back her wealth of curls with the air andmanner of a young coquettish girl. 

"Oh, what a handsome lady! Who is she?" Maddy asked, turning to lookafter the carriage now swiftly descending the hill. 

"That was Jessie's mother, Mrs. Agnes Remington, " the doctor replied. "She'll feel flattered with your compliment. "

"I did not mean to flatter. I said what I thought. She is handsome, beautiful, and so young, too. Was that a gold bracelet which flashedso on her arm?"

The doctor presumed it was, though he had not noticed. Gold braceletswere 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 whitewrist, around which the dark calico sleeve was closely buttoned, andthinking 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 forjewelry. "I guess I would, though grandpa classes all such things withthe 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 muchabout it while I was sick, that is, when I could think; but now I'mbetter, it goes away from me some. I know it is wrong, but I cannothelp it. I've seen only a bit of pomp and vanity, but I must say thatI like what I have seen, and I wish to see more. It's very wicked, Iknow, " she kept on, as she met the queer expression of the doctor'sface;" and I know you think me so bad. You are good--a Christian, Isuppose?"

There was a strange light in the doctor's eye as he answered, halfsadly: "No, Maddy, I am not what you call a Christian, I have notrenounced the pomps and vanities yet. "

"Oh, I'm so sorry, " and Maddy's eyes expressed all the sorrow sheprofessed to feel. "You ought to be, now you've got so old. "

The doctor colored crimson, and stopping his horse under the dimshadow of a maple in a little hollow, he said:

"I'm not so very old, Maddy; only twenty-five--only ten years olderthan yourself; and Agnes' husband was more than twenty years hersenior. "

The doctor did not know why he dragged that last in, when it hadnothing whatever to do with their conversation; but as the mosttrivial thing often leads to great results, so far from the pangcaused by Maddy's thinking him so old, was born the first realconsciousness he had ever had that the little girl beside him was verydear, and that the ten years difference between them might prove amost impassable gulf. With this feeling, it was exceedingly painfulfor him to hear Maddy's sudden exclamation:

"Oh, oh! over twenty years--that's dreadful. She must be most gladhe's dead. I would not marry a man more than five years older than Iam. "

"Not if you loved him, and he loved you very, very dearly?" the doctorasked, his voice low and tender in its tone. 

Wholly unsuspicious of the wild storm beating in his heart, Maddyuntied her white sunbonnet, and, taking it in her lap, smoothed backher soft hair, saying, with a long breath: "Oh! I'm so hot, " and then, as just thinking of his question, replied: "I shouldn't love him--Icouldn't. Grandma is five years younger than grandpa, mother was fiveyears 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 sheturned her innocent eyes full upon the doctor, who was wiping from hislips the great drops of water, induced not so much by the heat as bythe apparent hopelessness of the love he now knew was growing in hisheart for Maddy Clyde. Recurring again to Agnes, Maddy said: "I wonderwhy she married that old man? It is worse than if you were to marryJessie. "

"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 daymarry a poor girl. Do you think he will?"

Again Lucy Atherstone trembled on the doctor's lips, but he did notspeak of her--it was preposterous that Maddy should have any thoughtsof Guy Remington, who was quite as old as himself, besides beingengaged, and with this comforting assurance the doctor turned hishorse in the direction of the cottage, for Maddy was growing tired andneeded to be at home. 

"Perhaps you'll some time change your mind about people so much older, and if you do you'll remember our talk this morning, " he said, as hedrove up at last before the gate. 

Oh, yes! Maddy would never forget that morning or the nice ride they'dhad. She had enjoyed it so much, and she thanked him many times forhis kindness, as she stood waiting for him to drive away, feeling notremor whatever when at parting he took and held her hand, smoothingit gently, and telling her it was growing fat and plump again. He wasa very nice doctor, much better than she had imagined, she thought, asshe went slowly to the house and entered the neat kitchen, where hergrandmother sat shelling peas for dinner, and her grandfather in hisleathern chair was whispering over his weekly paper. 

"Did you meet a grand lady in a carriage?" grandma asked, as Maddy satdown beside her. 

"Yes; and Dr. Holbrook said it was Mrs. Remington, from Aikenside, Mr. Guy's stepmother, and that she was more than twenty years younger thanher husband--isn't it dreadful? I thought so; but the doctor didn'tseem to, " and in a perfectly artless manner Maddy repeated much of theconversation which had passed between the doctor and herself, appealing to her grandma to know if she had not taken the right sideof the argument. 

"Yes, child, you did, " and grandma's hands lingered among the lightgreen peas in her pan, as if she were thinking of an entirely foreignsubject. "I knows nothing about this Mrs. Remington, only that shestared a good deal at the house as she went by, even looking at usthrough a glass, and lifting her spotted veil after she got by. Shemay have been as happy as a queen with her man, but as a general thingthese 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 fewyears, when you got older, be sick of him. It might do him a sight ofharm. That's what spoilt your poor Great-uncle Joseph, who's been inthe hospital at Worcester goin' on nine years. "

"It was!" and Maddy's face was all aglow with the interest she alwaysevinced whenever mention was made of the one great living sorrow ofher grandmother's life--the shattered intellect and isolation from theworld of her youngest brother, who, as she said, had for nearly ninelong years been an inmate of a madhouse. 

"Tell me about it, " Maddy continued, bringing a pillow, and lying downupon the faded lounge beneath the window. 

"There is no great to tell, only he was many years younger than I. He's only forty-one now, and was thirteen years older than the girl hewanted. Joseph was smart and handsome, and a lawyer, and folks said asight too good for the girl, whose folks were just nothing, but shehad a pretty face, and her long curls bewitched him. She couldn't havebeen older than you when he first saw her, and she was only sixteenwhen they got engaged. Joseph's life was bound up in her; he worshipedthe very air she breathed, and when she mittened him, it almost tookhis life. He was too old for her, she said, and then right on top ofthat we heard after a little that she married some big bug, I neverknew who, plenty old enough to be her father. That settled it withJoseph; he went into a kind of melancholy, grew worse and worse, tillwe put him in the hospital, usin' his little property to pay the billuntil it was all gone, and now he's on charity, you know, exceptin'what we do. That's what 'tis about your Uncle Joseph, and I warn allyoung girls of thirteen or fourteen not to think too much of nobody. They are bound to get sick of 'em, and it makes dreadful work. "

Grandma had an object in telling this to Maddy, for she was not blindto the nature of the doctor's interest in her child, and though itgratified her pride, she felt that it must not be, both for his sakeand Maddy's, so she told the sad story of Uncle Joseph as a warning toMaddy, who could scarcely be said to need it. Still it made animpression on her, and all that afternoon she was thinking of theunfortunate man, whom she had seen but once, and that in his prisonhome, where she had been with her grandfather the only time she hadever ridden in the cars. He had taken her in his arms then, sheremembered, and called her his little Sarah. That must have been thename of his treacherous betrothed. She would ask if it were not so, and she did. 

"Yes, Sarah Morris, that was her name, and her face was handsome as adoll, " grandma replied, and wondering if she were as beautiful asJessie, or Jessie's mother, Maddy went back to her reveries of thepoor maniac, whom Sarah Morris had wronged so cruelly. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

SHADOWINGS OF WHAT WAS TO BE. 

It was very pleasant at Aikenside that afternoon, and the cool breezeblowing from the miniature fish pond in one corner of the grounds, came stealing into the handsome parlors, where Agnes Remington, intasteful toilet, reclined languidly upon the crimson-hued sofa, bending her graceful head to suit the height of Jessie, who wastwining some flowers among her curls, and occasionally appealing toGuy to know "if it was not pretty. "

In his favorite seat in the pleasant bay window, opening into thegarden, Guy was sitting, apparently reading a book, though his eyesdid not move very rapidly down the page, for his thoughts were on someother object. When his pretty stepmother first came to Aikenside, three months before, he had been half sorry, for he knew just how hisquiet would be disturbed, but as the weeks went by, and he becameaccustomed to Jessie's childish prattle and frolicsome ways, whileeven Agnes herself was not a bad picture for his handsome home, hebegan to feel how he should miss them when they were gone, Jessieparticularly, who made so much sunshine wherever she went, and who wasvery dear to the heart of the half-brother. Full well he knew Agneswould rather stay there, that her income did not warrant as luxuriousa home as he could give her, and that by remaining at Aikenside duringthe warmer season she could afford to board through the winter inBoston, where her personal attractions secured her quite as muchattention as was good for her. Had she been more agreeable to him hewould not have hesitated to offer her a home as long as she chose toremain, but, as it was, he felt that Lucy Atherstone would be muchhappier alone with him. Lucy, however, was not coming yet, and untilshe did come Agnes perhaps might stay. It certainly would be betterfor Jessie, who could have a teacher in the house, and it was uponthese 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 atime, and then to Newport, and she wished I would join them. Do youthink I can afford it?"

"Oh, yes, that's splendid, for I'll stay here while you are gone, andI like Aikenside so much better than Boston. Mamma can afford it, can't she, Guy?" Jessie exclaimed, dropping her flowers and springingupon her brother's knee. 

Smoothing her bright hair and pinching her soft cheek, Guy replied:

"That means, I suppose, that I can afford it, don't it? but, puss, Iwas thinking just now about your staying here where you really doimprove. "

Then turning to Agnes he made some inquiries as to the plans proposedby the Laurie's, ascertaining that Agnes' plan was as follows: Heshould invite her to go with him to Saratoga, or Newport, or both, andthat Jessie meantime should remain at Aikenside, just as she wished todo. 

Guy could not find much pleasure in escorting Agnes to a fashionablewatering place, particularly as he was, of course, expected to pay thebills, but he sometimes did unselfish things; and as he had not beenvery gracious to her on the occasion of her last visit to Aikenside, he decided to martyr himself and go to Saratoga. But who would carefor Jessie? She must not be left wholly with the servants. A governessof some kind must be provided, and he was about speaking of this toAgnes, when the doctor was announced, and the conversation turned intoanother channel. Agnes Remington would not have confessed bow much shewas interested in Dr. Holbrook. Indeed, only that morning in reply toa 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, asit were. "

And yet, in making her toilet that afternoon, she had arranged everypart of her dress with direct reference to the "mere boy, " her heartbeating faster every time she remembered the white sunbonnet and theScotch plaid shawl she had seen beside him in the drive that morning. Little Maddy Clyde would hardly have credited the story had she beentold that the beautiful lady from Aikenside was positively jealous ofDr. Holbrook's attentions to herself; yet so it was, and the jealousywas all the more bitter when she remembered who Madeline was, and howstartled that aged couple of the red cottage would be, could they knowwho she was. But they did not; she was quite sure of that; and so shehad ventured to pass their door, her heart throbbing with a strangesensation as the old waymarks came in view, waymarks which sheremembered so well, and around which so many sad memories wereclustering. Agnes was not all bad. Indeed, she was scarcely worse thanmost vain, selfish fashionable women; and all that day, since herreturn from riding, haunting, remorseful thoughts of the long ago hadbeen clinging to her, making her more anxious to leave thatneighborhood for a time at least, and in scenes of gayety forget, ifpossible, that such things as broken vows or broken hearts existed. 

The arrival of the doctor dissipated her sadness in a measure, andafter 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 inshawls and things, whom you were taking out for an airing?"

Guy looked up quickly, wondering where Agnes could have seen thedoctor, who, conscious of a sudden pang, answered, naturally:

"That old lady, bent double and bundled in shawls, was young MaddyClyde, to whom I thought a short ride might do good. "

"Oh, yes; that patient about whom Jessie has gone mad. I am glad tohave seen her. "

There was unmistakable irony in her voice now, and turning from her toGuy, the doctor continued:

"The old man was telling me to-day of your kindness in saving hishouse from being sold. It was like you, Guy; and I wish I, too, hadthe means to be generous, for they are so very poor. "

"I'll tell you, " said Jessie, who had stolen to the doctor's side, andlain her fat, bare arm upon his shoulder, as if he had been Guy. "Youmight give Maddy the doctor's bill. I remember how mamma cried, andsaid she never could pay papa's bill when it was sent in. "

"Jessie!" said Agnes and Guy, simultaneously, while the doctorlaughingly pulled one of her long, bright curls. 

"Yes, I could do that. I'd thought of it, but they might not acceptit, 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 aMr. Green that Mrs. Markham's youngest and now only brother has beenan inmate of a lunatic asylum for years; and that though they cannotpay his entire expenses, of course they do all they can towardproviding 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 alunatic asylum was. 

"Is insanity hereditary in this family?" Guy asked. 

Agnes' cheek was very white, though her face was fumed away as thedoctor answered: "I do not know; I did not ask the cause. I only heardthe fact that such a man as Joseph Mortimer exists. "

For a moment there was silence in the room, and then Guy told thedoctor of what himself and Agnes were speaking when he arrived. 

"I suppose it's of no use asking you to join us for a week or so. "

"There was not, " the doctor said. "His patients needed him and he muststay at home. "

"Doctor, how would this Maddy Clyde do to stay here with Jessie whilewe are gone, partly as companion and partly as her teacher?" was Guy'snext question, which brought Mrs. Agnes at once from her reverie. 

"Guy, " she exclaimed, "are you crazy? That child Jessie's governess!No, indeed! I shall have a teacher from Boston--one whose manners andstyle are unexceptionable. "

Guy had a will of his own, and few could provoke it into action aseffectually as Agnes, who, in thus opposing him, was working directlyagainst herself. Paying her no attention, except to bow in token thathe heard, Guy asked Jessie her opinion. 

"Oh, it will be splendid! Can she come to-morrow? I shan't care howlong you are gone if I can have Maddy here, and doctor will come upevery day, will you, doctor?" and the soft eyes looked up pleadinglyinto the doctor's face. 

"It is not settled yet that Maddy comes, " the doctor replied, addingas an answer to Guy's question: "If Agnes could be willing, I do notthink you could do better than to secure Miss Clyde's services. Twochildren will thus be made happy, for Maddy, as I have told you, thinks Aikenside must be a little lower only than Paradise. I shall behappy to open negotiations, if you say so. "

"I'll ride down and let you know to-morrow, " Guy said. "These domesticmatters, where there is a difference of thinking, had better bediscussed alone, " and he turned good-humoredly toward Agnes, who knewit was useless to oppose him then. 

But oppose him she did that night, after the doctor had gone, takingat first the high stand that sooner than have a country girl likeMaddy Clyde associated daily with her daughter, whether as teacher orcompanion, she would give up Saratoga and stay at home. Guy could notexplain why it was that opposition from Agnes always aroused all hispowers of antagonism. Yet so it was, and now he was as fullydetermined that Maddy Clyde should come to Aikenside as Agnes was thatshe should not. He knew, too, how to attain this end without furtheraltercation. 

"Very well, " was his quiet reply, "you can remain at home if youchoose, of course. I had intended taking you myself, wherever youwished to go; and not only that, but I was about to ask how much wasneeded for the necessary additions to your wardrobe, but if you preferremaining here to giving up a most unfounded prejudice against a girlwho never harmed you, and whom Jessie already loves, you can do so, "and Guy walked from the room, leaving Agnes first to cry, then topout, then to think it all over, and finally to decide that going toSaratoga and Newport under the protection of Guy, was better thancarrying out a whim, which, after all, was nothing but a whim. 

Accordingly next morning as Guy was in his library reading his papers, she went tripping up to him, and folding her white hands upon hisshoulder, said, very prettily:

"I was real cross last night, and let my foolish pride get theascendency, but I have considered the matter, and am willing for thisMiss Clyde to come, provided you still think it best. "

Guy's mustache hid the mischievous smile lurking about his mouth, andhe received the concession as graciously as if he did not knowperfectly the motive which impelled it. As she had commenced beingamiable she seemed determined to continue it, and offered herself towrite a note soliciting Maddy's services, "As I am Jessie's mother, it will be perfectly proper for me to hireand manage her, " she said, and as Guy acquiesced in this suggestion, she sat down at the writing desk, and commenced a very pleasantlyworded note, in which Miss Clyde was informed that she had beenrecommended as a suitable person with whom to leave Jessie during thesummer and a part of the autumn, and that she, Jessie's mother, wroteto ask if for the sum of one dollar per week she were at liberty tocome to Aikenside as governess, or waiting-maid. 

"Or what?" Guy asked, as she read to him what she had written. "MaddyClyde will not be waiting-maid in this house, neither will she comefor one dollar per week as you propose. I hire her myself. I havetaken a fancy to the girl. Commence again; substitute companion forwaiting-maid, and offering her three dollars per week instead of one. "

As long as Guy paid the bill Agnes could not demur to the price, although remembering a time when she had taught a district school forone dollar per week and boarded around besides. She thought threedollars far too much. But Guy had commanded, and him she generallyobeyed, so she wrote another note, which he approved, and sealing itup sent it by a servant down to the red cottage. 

CHAPTER IX. 

THE DECISION. 

The reception of Agnes' note produced quite a commotion at the redcottage, where various opinions were expressed as to the prime moverof the plan, grandpa thinking that as Mrs. Agnes wrote the note, andwas most interested in it, she, of course, had suggested it, grandmainsisting that it was Jessie's doings, while Maddy, when she saidanything, agreed with her grandmother, though away down in her heartwas a tiny spot warm with the half belief that Mr. Guy himself hadfirst thought of having her at Aikenside, where she would rather gothan to any other spot in the wide world; to Aikenside, with itsshaven lawn, almost large enough to be called a park, with its shadedpaths and winding walks, its costly flowers and running vines, itsfountains and statuary, its fish pond and grove, its airy rooms, itsmarbled hall, its winding stairs, with banisters of rosewood, itscupola at the top, from which so many miles of hill and meadow landcould be discerned, its bay windows and long piazzas, its sweet-faced, golden-haired Jessie, and its manly, noble Guy. Only the image ofAgnes, flashing in silk and diamonds was a flaw on the picture's fairsurface. From thoughts of her Maddy had insensibly shrank, until shemet her in the carriage, and then received the note asking herservices. These events wrought in her a change, and dread of Mrs. Agnes passed away. She should like her, and she should be so happy atAikenside, for, of course, she was going, and she began to wish thedoctor would come so as to tell her how long before she would bestrong enough to perform the duties of teacher to little Jessie. 

At first Grandpa Markham hesitated. It might do Maddy a deal of hurtto go to Aikenside, he said, her humble home would look mean to herafter all that finery, while the temptations to vanity and ambitionwould be greater there than at home; but Maddy put all his objectionsaside, and long before the doctor came she had written to Mrs. Agnesthat she would go. The doctor could not understand why it was that inMaddy's home he did not think as well of her going to Aikenside as hehad done the evening previous. She looked so bright, so pure, soartless, sitting by her grandfather's knee, that it seemed a pity totransplant her to another soil, while, hidden in his heart where evenhe did not know it was hidden, was a fear of what might be the effectof daily intercourse with Guy. Still he said it was the best thing forher to do, and laughingly remarked that it was far better thanteaching the district school, and then he asked if she would rideagain 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 hisconvalescent patients, he carry out poor old deaf Mary Barnes, whocomplained that he stayed so long with the child at "grantherMarkham's" as to have but a moment to spare for her. 

Instantly the eyes of Mrs. Markham and the doctor met, the latterfeeling very uncomfortable, while the former was confirmed in thesuspicion raised by what Maddy told her the day before. 

It was the doctor who carried Maddy's answer to Agnes, the doctor whomade all the succeeding arrangements, deciding that Maddy would not bewholly strong until the very day fixed upon by Agnes for her departurefor Saratoga. For this Guy was sorry. It would have been an easymatter for him to have ridden down to the cottage, and seen the girlin whom he was beginning to feel so much interest that in his lastletter to Lucy he had mentioned her as about to become his sister'sgoverness; but he did not care to see her there. It seemed to him thatthe surroundings of that slanting-roofed house did not belong to her, and he would rather meet her in his own more luxurious home. But thedoctor's word was law, and so, on the first day of August he followedAgnes and her three huge traveling trunks to the carriage, and wasdriven from the house to which Maddy was coming that afternoon. 

CHAPTER X. 

AT AIKENSIDE. 

It was a long, tiresome ride, for grandpa, from Honedale to Aikenside, and as he was not in his wife's secret, he accepted thankfully thedoctor's offer to take Maddy there himself. With this arrangementMaddy was well pleased, as it would thus afford her the opportunityshe 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, theday was very sad, but they would not intrude their grief upon theyoung girl looking so eagerly forward to the new life opening beforeher; only grandpa's voice faltered a little when, in the morningprayer, he commended his child to God, asking that she might be keptfrom temptation, and that the new sights and scenes to which she wasgoing might not beget in her a love of the world's vanities, or adisgust for her old home; but that she might come back to it the sameloving, happy child as she was then, and never be ashamed of theparents to whom she was so dear. There was an answering sob from thechair where Maddy knelt, and after the devotions were ended she woundher 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 thingsis mighty apt to set folks up, and after you've walked a spell on themvelvet carpets, you'll no doubt think your feet make a big noise onour 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, asshe 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 tohave a husband, which would be such a bother!" was her next mentalcomment, as, leaving her grandfather, she went to help her grandmotherwith the breakfast dishes, wondering when she would wipe those bluecups 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 hadonly been happy in anticipation; but when, with her shawl and bonneton, she stood waiting while the doctor fastened her little trunk, andwhen she saw a tear on the wrinkled faces of both her grandparents, her fortitude gave way; and 'mid a storm of sobs, she said her good-bys and received her grandfather's blessing. 

It was very pleasant that afternoon, for the summer breeze was blowingcool across the fields, where the laborers were busy; and with theelasticity of youth, Maddy's tears stopped their flowing, but notuntil the dear old home had disappeared, and they were some distanceon the road to Aikenside. 

"I wonder how I shall like Mrs. Remington and Mr. Guy?" was the firstremark she made. 

"You'll not see them immediately. They left this morning forSaratoga, " 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 theterrible inspector, that he would not undeceive her, the doctorthought; and so he relapsed into a thoughtful mood, from which Maddyaroused him by breaking the subject of the unpaid bill, asking if he'dplease not trouble grandpa, but wait until she could pay it. 

"Perhaps it's wrong asking it when you were so good, but if you onlywill take me for payment, " and Maddy's soft brown eyes were lifted tohis face. 

"Yes, Maddy, I'll take you for payment, " the doctor said, smiling, half seriously, as his eyes rested fondly upon her. 

Even then stupid Maddy did not understand him, but began to calculateout loud how long it would take to earn the money. She'd heard peoplesay that the doctor charged a dollar a visit to Honedale, and he'dbeen so many, many times, that it would take a great many weeks to payhim; besides, there was the debt to Mr. Guy. She wanted to help paythat, but did not see how she could, unless he waited, too. Did thedoctor think he would? It seemed terrible to the doctor that one soyoung as Maddy should be harassed with the payment of debts, and hefelt a most intense desire for the right to shield her from all suchcare, but he must not speak of it then; he'd rather she should remaina little longer an artless child, confiding all her troubles to him asif he had been her brother. 

"There's Aikenside, " he said, at last, and it was not long before theypassed through the gate, guarded by the great bronze lions, and struckinto the graveled road leading to the house. 

"It's grander, finer, than I ever dreamed. Oh! if I could some timehave just such a home! and doctor, look! What does make that water goup in the air so? Is it what they call a fountain?"

In her excitement Maddy had risen, and with one hand resting on thedoctor's shoulder, was looking around her eagerly. Guy Remington wouldhave laughed, and been gratified, too, could he have heard theenthusiastic praises heaped upon his home by the little schoolgirl asshe drove up to his door. But Guy was away in the dusty cars, and onlyJessie stood on the piazza to receive her teacher. There were warmwords of welcome, kisses and hugs; and then Jessie led her friend tothe chamber she was to occupy. 

"Mother wanted you to sleep the other side of the house, but BrotherGuy said no, you should have a pleasant room; and when Guy says athing, it's so. It's nice in here, and close to me. See, I'm righthere, " and Jessie opened a door leading directly to her own sleepingroom. 

"Here's one trunk, " she continued, as a servant brought up and setdown, a little contemptuously, the small hair-cloth box containingMaddy's wardrobe. "Here's one; where's the rest?" and she was flyingafter Tom, when Maddy stopped her, saying:

"I have but one--that's all. "

"Only that little, teenty thing? How funny. Why, mamma carried threemost as big as my bed to Saratoga. You can't have many dresses. Whatare 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 nowthey are gone, Mrs. Noah says we will have it at one, as folks oughtto do. To-day I coaxed her to wait till you come, and the table is allset out so nicely for two. Can you carve, and do you like green turtlesoup?"

Maddy was bewildered, but managed to reply that she could not carve, that she never saw any green turtle soup, and that she supposed sheshould wear to dinner the delaine she had on. "Why, we always change, even Mrs. Noah, " Jessie exclaimed, bending over the open trunk andexamining its contents. 

Two calicoes, a blue muslin, a gingham and another delaine, beside theone she had on. That was the sum total of Maddy's wardrobe, and Jessieglanced at it a little ruefully as Maddy carefully shook out thenicely folded dresses and laid them upon the bed. Here Mrs. Noah washeard calling Jessie, who ran away leaving Maddy alone for a moment. 

Maddy had seen the look Jessie gave her dresses, and for the firsttime there dawned upon her mind the possibility that her plainapparel, and ignorance of the ways of Aikenside might be to her thecause of much mortification. 

"And grandma said they were so nice, too--doing them up so carefully, "she said, her lip beginning to quiver, and her eyes filling withtears, as thoughts of home came rushing over her. 

She could not force them back, and laying her head upon the top of thedespised hair trunk, she sobbed aloud. Guy Remington's private roomwas in that hall, and as the doctor knew a book was to have been leftthere for him, he took the liberty of getting it; passing Maddy's doorhe heard the low sound of weeping, and looking in, saw her where shesat or rather knelt upon the floor. 

"Homesick so soon!" he said, advancing to her side, and then amid atorrent of tears, the whole came out. 

Maddy never could do as they did there, and everybody would laugh ather so for an awkward thing; she never knew that folks ate dinner atfive instead of twelve--she should surely starve to death--shecouldn't carve--she could not eat mud-turtle soup, and she did notknow which dress to wear for dinner--would the doctor tell her? Therethey were, and she pointed to the bed, only five, and she knew Jessiethought it so mean. 

Such was the substance of Maddy's passionate outpouring of her griefsto the highly perplexed doctor, who, after quieting her somewhat, ascertained that the greatest present trouble was the deciding whatdress was suitable to the occasion. The doctor had never made dresshis study, but as it happened he liked blue, and so suggested it, asthe one most likely to be becoming. 

"That!" and Maddy looked confounded. "Why, grandma never let me wearthat, except on Sunday; that's my very best dress. "

"Poor child; I'm not sure it was right for you to come here where thelife is so different from the quiet, unpretentious one you have led, "the doctor thought, but he merely said: "It's my impression they weartheir best dresses here, all the time. "

"But what will I do when that's worn out! Oh, dear, dear, I wish I hadnot come!" and another impetuous fit of weeping ensued, in the midstof which Jessie came back, greatly disturbed on Maddy's account, andasking eagerly what was the matter. 

Very adroitly the doctor managed to draw Jessie aside, while as wellas he was able he gave her a few hints with regard to her intercoursewith Maddy, and Jessie, who seemed intuitively to understand him, wentback to the weeping girl, soothing her much as a little mother wouldhave soothed her child. They would have such nice times, when Maddygot used to their ways, which would not take long, and nobody wouldlaugh 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 wentinto ecstasies over the blue muslin, which was becoming to Maddy, andgreatly enhanced her girlish beauty. The tear stains were all washedaway, Jessie using very freely her mother's _eau-de-cologne_, andmaking Maddy's cheeks very red with rubbing, the nut-brown hair wasbrushed until it shone like satin, a little narrow band of blackvelvet ribbon was pinned about Maddy's snowy neck, and then she wasready for that terrible ordeal, her first dinner at Aikenside. Thedoctor was going to stay, and this helped to relieve her somewhat. 

"You must come to the housekeeper's room and see her first, " Jessiesaid, and with a beating heart and brain bewildered by the elegancieswhich met her at every turn, Maddy followed to where the dreaded Mrs. Noah, in rustling back silk and a thread lace collar, sat sewing andgreatly enjoying the leisure she had in her master's absence. 

Mrs. Noah knew who Maddy was, remembering the old man said that shewould not disgrace a drawing-room as fine as that at Aikenside. Shehad discovered, too, that Mrs. Agnes was opposed to her coming, thatonly Guy's determined will had brought her there; and this, if nothingelse, had disposed her to feel kindly toward the little governess. Shehad expected to see her rather pretty, but was not prepared to findher what she was. Maddy's was a singular type of beauty--a beautyuntarnished by any selfish, uncharitable, or suspicious feeling. Clearand truthful as a mirror, her brown eyes looked into Mrs. Noah's, while her low courtesy--so full of deference, found its way straightto that motherly heart. 

"I am glad to see you, Miss Clyde, " she said, "very glad. "

Maddy's lip quivered a little and her voice shook as she replied:

"Please call me Maddy. They do at home, and I shan't be quite so--so--"

She could not say "homesick, " lest she should break out again into afit of crying, but Mrs. Noah understood her, and remembering her ownexperience when first she went from home, she involuntarily stooped tokiss the pure, white forehead of the girl, who henceforth was sure ofone friend at least at Aikenside. 

The dinner was a success, so far as Maddy was concerned. Not a singlemistake did she perpetrate, though her cheeks burned painfully as shefelt the eyes of the polite waiters fixed so often upon her, andfancied they might be laughing at her. But they were not, and thanksto the kind-hearted Guy, they thought of her only with respect, as onewho was their superior and must be treated accordingly. Knowing howdifferent everything was at Aikenside from that to which she had beenaccustomed, Guy, with the thoughtfulness natural to him, had taken theprecaution of speaking to each of the servants concerning Miss Clyde, Jessie's teacher. As he could not be there himself when she first cameit would devolve upon them, more or less, to make it pleasant for herby kind, civil attentions, he said, hinting at the dire displeasuresure to fall on any one who should be guilty of a misdemeanor in thatdirection. To Paul, the coachman, he had been particular in hischarges, telling him who Maddy was, and arguing that from theinsolence once given to the grandfather the offender was bound to bemore polite to the grandchild. The carriage was to be at hers andJessie's command, Paul never refusing a reasonable request to drivethe young ladies when and where they wished to go, while a prettylittle black pony, recently broken to the saddle for Agnes, was to beat Miss Clyde's service, if she chose to have it. As Guy's slightestwish was always obeyed, Maddy's chances for happiness were not small, notwithstanding that she felt so desolate and lonely when the doctorleft her, and standing by Jessie she watched him with a swelling heartuntil he was lost to view in the deepening twilight. 

Feeling that she must be homesick, Mrs. Noah suggested that she trythe fine piano in the little music-room. 

"Maybe you can't play, but you can drum 'Days of Absence, ' as mostgirls do, " and opening the lid she bade Maddy "thump as long as sheliked. "

Music was a delight to Maddy, who coveted nothing so much as aknowledge of it, and sitting down upon the stool, she touched thesoft-toned instrument, ascertaining by her far several sweet chords, and greatly astonishing Jessie, who wondered at her skill. Twice eachweek a teacher came up from Devonshire to give lessons to Jessie, butas yet she could only play one scale and a few simple bars. These sheattempted to teach to Maddy, who caught at them so quickly andexecuted them so well that Jessie was delighted. Maddy ought to takelessons, 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 ecstasiesover Maddy, saying she was the nicest kind of a girl, that she prayedin the morning as well as at night, and looked so sweet in blue, sheasked if she couldn't take music lessons, too, advancing many reasonswhy she should, one of which was that she could play now a great dealbetter than herself. 

It was several days before an answer came to this letter, and when itdid it brought Guy's consent for Maddy to take lessons, together witha note for Mr. Simons, requesting him to consider Miss Clyde hispupil, on the same terms with Jessie. 

Though greatly pleased with Aikenside, and greatly attached to Jessie, Maddy had had many hours of loneliness when her heart was back in thehumble cottage where she knew they were missing her so much, but now anew world, a world of music, was suddenly opened before her, and thehomesickness all disappeared. It had been arranged with Mrs. Noah, byAgnes, that Jessie should only study for two hours each day, consequently Maddy had nearly all the time to herself, and well didshe improve it, making so rapid progress that Simons looked on amazeddeclaring her case to be without a parallel, while Jessie was left farbehind. 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'sprogress in music, and though he did not know a single note, compelling himself to listen while with childlike satisfaction sheplayed him her last lesson. She was very happy now at Aikenside, whereall were so kind to her, and half wished that the family would alwaysremain as it was then, that Agnes and Guy would not come home, forwith their coming she felt there would be a change. It was nearly timenow to expect them. Indeed, Guy had written on one Saturday that theyshould probably be home the next, and during the ensuing weekAikenside presented that most uncomfortable phase of a house beingcleaned. Everything must be in order for Mr. Guy, Mrs. Noah said, taking more pains with his rooms than with the remaining portion ofthe building. Guy was her idol; nothing was too good for him, fewthings quite good enough, and she said so much in his praise thatMaddy began to shrink from meeting him. What would he think of her?Perhaps he might not notice her in the least, and that would beterrible. But, no, a man as kind as he had shown himself to her, wouldat least pay her some attention, and so at last she began toanticipate his coming home, wondering what their first meeting wouldbe, 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 seemedconspiring to welcome the travelers for whom so extensive preparationswere making at Aikenside. They were expected at about six in theafternoon, and just before that hour the doctor rode up to be inreadiness to meet them. In the dining-room the table was set as Maddyhad never seen it set before, making, with its silver, its china, andcut-glass, a glittering display. There was Guy's seat as carver, withAgnes at the urn, while Maddy felt sure that the two plates betweenAgnes and Guy were intended for Jessie and herself, the doctoroccupying the other side. Jessie would sit next her mother, whichwould leave her near to Guy, where he could see every movement shemade. Would he think her awkward, or would he, as she hoped, be somuch absorbed with the doctor as not to notice her? Suppose she shoulddrop her fork, or upset one of those queer-looking goblets, more likebowls than anything else? It would be terrible, and Maddy's cheekstingled at the very thought of such a catastrophe. Were they gobletsreally, those funny colored things, and if they were not, what werethey? Summoning all her courage, she asked the doctor, her primecounselor, and learned that they were the finger-glasses, of which shehad read, but which she had never seen before. 

"Oh, must I use them?" she asked, in so evident distress that thedoctor could not forbear a laugh as he told her it was not of theslightest consequence whether she used them or not, advising her towatch Mrs. Agnes, who was _au fait_ in all such matters. 

Six o'clock came, but no travelers. Then an hour went by, and therecame a telegram that the cars had broken down and would not probablyarrive until late in the night, if indeed they did till morning. Greatly disappointed, the doctor, after dinner, took his leave, telling the girls they had better not sit up. Consequently, at a latehour they both retired, sleeping so soundly as not to near the noiseoutside the house; the banging of doors, the setting down of trunks, the tramp of feet, Mrs. Noah's words of welcome, one pleasant voicewhich responded, and another more impatient one which sounded as ifits owner were tired and cross. 

Agnes and Guy had come. As a whole, Agnes' season at Saratoga had beenrather disagreeable. Guy, it is true had been exceedingly kind. Shehad been flattered by brainless fops. She had heard herself called"that beautiful Mrs. Remington, " and "that charming young widow, " butno serious attentions had been paid, no millionaire had asked to beher second husband. If there had, she would have said yes, for Agneswas not averse to changing her state of widowhood. She liked thedoctor, but if he did not propose, and some other body did, she shouldaccept that other body, of course. This was her intention when sheleft Aikenside, and when she came back, it was with the determinationto raise the siege at once, and compel the doctor to surrender. Sheknew he was not wealthy as she could wish, but his family were theHolbrooks, and as she positively liked him, she was prepared to waivethe matter of money. In this state of mind it is not surprising thatthe morning of the return home she should listen with a troubled mindto Jessie's rather exaggerated account of the number of times thedoctor had been there, and the nice things he had said to her andMaddy. 

"He had visited them ever so much, staying ever so long. I know Maddylikes him; I do, anyway, " Jessie said, never dreaming of the passionshe was exciting, jealousy of Maddy, hatred of Maddy, and a desire tobe 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 ofhis making her mistress of Aikenside. It would be a pretty romance, Guy Remington and Grandpa Markham's grandchild. Agnes was nervous andtired, and this helped to increase her anger toward the innocent girl. She would take immediate measures, she thought, to put the upstartdown, and the sight of Flora laying the cloth for breakfast suggestedto her the first step in teaching Maddy her place. 

"Flora, " she said, "I notice you are arranging the table for four. Have we company?"

"Why, no, ma'am; there's Mr. Guy, yourself, Miss Jessie, and MissClyde, " was Flora's reply, while Agnes continued haughtily: "RemoveMiss 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 whenhe was here. He treats her as if she was good as anybody. "

In her eagerness to serve Maddy and save her from insult, Flora wasgrowing 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, andMr. Remington, I am sure, will not suffer it. "

"Might I ask him?" Flora persisted, her hand still on the plate. 

"No, " Agnes would attend to that, and also see Miss Clyde. All Florahad to do was to remove the plate, which she finally did, muttering toherself: "Such airs! but I know Mr. Guy won't stand it. "

Meantime Maddy had put on her prettiest delaine, tied her littledainty black silk apron, Mrs. Noah's gift, and with the feeling thatshe was looking unusually well, started for the parlor to meet heremployer, Mrs. Agnes. Jessie had gone in quest of her brother, andthus Agnes was alone when Maddy Clyde first presented herself beforeher. She had not expected to find Maddy so pretty, and for a momentthe hot blood crimsoned her cheek, while her heart throbbed wildlybeneath the rich morning dress. Dr. Holbrook had cause for beingattracted by that fresh, bright face, she thought, and so she steeledherself against the better impulses of her nature, impulses whichpleaded that for the sake of the past she should be kind to MaddyClyde. 

"Ah, good-morning. You are Jessie's governess, I presume, " she said, bowing distantly, and pretending not to notice the hand which Maddyinvoluntarily extended toward her. "Jessie speaks well of you, and Iam 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 foran instant filled with tears, but she answered civilly that she hadbeen very happy, and everybody was very kind. It was harder work toput down Maddy Clyde than Agnes had expected, and after a littlefurther conversation there ensued a silence, which neither wasinclined to break. At last, summoning all her courage, Agnes began:

"Excuse me, Miss Clyde, but your own good sense, of which I am sureyou have an abundance, must tell you that now Mr. Remington and myselfare at home, your intercourse with our family must be ratherlimited--that is--ahem--that is, neither Mr. Remington nor myself areaccustomed to having our governess very much with us. I suppose youhave had the range of the parlors, sitting there when you liked, andall 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 ofterror and surprise visible on Maddy's face. "The past is right, butin future it will be a little different, I am willing to accord to agoverness all the privileges possible. They are human as well asmyself, but society makes a difference. Don't you know it does?"

"Yes--no--I don't know. Oh, pray tell me what I am to do!" Maddygasped, her face as white as ashes, and her eyes wearing as yet only ascared, uncertain look. 

With little, graceful tosses of the head, which set in motion everyone of the brown curls, Mrs. Agnes replied:

"You are not, of course, to go to Mr. Remington. It is my matter, anddoes not concern him. What I wish is this: You are to come to theparlor only when invited, and are not to intrude upon us at any time, particularly when company is here, such as--well, such as Dr. Holbrook, if you please. As you cannot be with Jessie all the while, you will, when your labors as governess are over, sit in your ownroom, or the schoolroom, or walk in the back yard, just as the higherservants do--such as Mrs. Noah and the sewing girl, Sarah. Occasionally we shall have you in to dine with us, but usually youwill take your meals with Mrs. Noah and Sarah. By following thesedirections you will, I think, give entire satisfaction. "

When Mrs. Agnes had finished this, Maddy began to understand herposition, and into her white face the hot blood poured indignantly. Wholly inexperienced, she had never dreamed that a governess was notworthy to sit at the same table with her employer, that she must neverenter the parlors unbidden, or intrude herself in any way. No wonderthat her cheeks burned at the degradation, or that, for an instant, she felt like defying the proud woman to her face. But the angry wordstrembling on her tongue were repressed as she remembered hergrandfather's teachings; and with a bow as haughty as any Mrs. Agnescould have made, and a look on her face which could not easily beforgotten, she left the room, and in a kind of stunned bewildermentsought the garden, where she could, unseen, give way to her feelings. 

Once alone, the torrent burst forth, and burying her face in the softgrass, she wept bitterly, never hearing the step coming near, and notat first heeding the voice which asked what was the matter. GuyRemington, too, had come out into the garden, accidentally wanderingthat way, and so stumbling upon the little figure crying in the grass. He knew it was Maddy, and greatly surprised to find her thus, askedwhat was the matter. Then, as she did not hear him, he laid his handgently upon her shoulder, compelling her to look up. In all herimaginings of Guy, she had never associated him with the man who hadso puzzled and confused her, and now she did not for a time suspectthe truth. She only thought him a guest at Aikenside; some one comewith Guy, and her degradation seemed greater than before. She was notsurprised 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 wouldsay, could she know how kindly he spoke to her, lifting her from thegrass and leading her to a rustic seat at no great distance from them. 

"Now, tell me why you are crying so?" he said, brushing from her silkapron the spot of dirt which had settled upon it. "Are you homesick?"he continued, and then Maddy burst out again. 

She forgot that he was a stranger, forgot everything except that hesympathized 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 agoverness; never heard it was so considered, or that I was not goodenough to eat with them till she told me this. Oh, dear, dear!" andchoked with tears Maddy stopped a moment to take breath. 

She did not look up at the young man beside her, and it was well shedid not, for the dark expression of his face would have frightenedher. Half guessing the truth, and impatient to hear more, he said toher:

"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, andMaddy continued:

"She told me that now they had come home it would be different, thatonly when invited must I come to the parlor, or anywhere, but muststay in the servants' part, and eat with Mrs. Noah and Sarah. I'd justas soon do that. I am no better than they, only, only--the way shetold me made me feel so mean, as if I was not anybody, when I am, " andhere Maddy's pride began to rise. "I'm just as good as she, if grandpais poor, and I won't stay here to be treated like a nigger by her andMr. Guy. I liked him so much too, because he was kind to grandpa andto 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 thoughthe was. "How is it now?"

"I s'pose it's wicked to feel such things on Sunday, but, somehow, what she said keeps making me so bad that I know I hate her, and Iguess I hate Mr. Guy!"

This was Maddy's answer, spoken deliberately, while she looked up atthe young man, who, with a comical expression about his mouth, answered back:

"I am Mr. Guy. " "You, you! Oh, I can't bear it! I will die!" and Maddysprang up as quickly as if feeling an electric shock. 

But Guy's arm was interposed to stop her, and Guy's arm held her back, while he asked where she was going. 

"Anywhere, out of sight where you can never see me again, " Maddysobbed vehemently. "It is bad enough to have you think me a fool, asyou must; but now, oh what do you think of me?"

"Nothing bad, I assure you, " Guy said, still holding her wrist to keepher there. "I supposed you knew who I was, but as you did not, Iforgive you for hating me so cordially. If you thought I sanctionedwhat Mrs. Remington has said to you, you had cause to dislike me, butMiss Clyde, I do not, and this is the first intimation I have had thatyou 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 willbe well, " Maddy cried, feeling, at that moment, more averse to leavingAikenside than she could have thought it possible. 

"We shall not quarrel, but I shall have my way; meanwhile go to yourroom and stay there until told that I have sent for you. "

They went to the house together, but separated in the hall; Maddyrepairing to her room, while Guy sought Mrs. Agnes. The moment she sawhis face she knew a storm was coming, but was not prepared for thebiting sarcasm and bitter reproaches heaped upon her by one who, whenroused, was a perfect hurricane. 

Maybe she had forgotten what she was when his father married her, hesaid, but he had not, and he remembered well the wonder expressed bymany that his father should stoop to marry a poor school teacher. "Yes, that's what you were, madam, much as you despise Maddy Clyde forbeing a governess; you were one once yourself, and before that timemercy knows what you were--a hired girl, perhaps--your present airswould seem to warrant as much!"

Guy was in a sad passion by this time, and failed to note the effecthis last words had on Agnes, who turned livid with rage and terror;but smothering down her wrath, she said beseechingly:

"Pray, Guy, do not be so angry; I know I am foolish about some things, and proud people who 'come up' as you say always are, I guess; I knowthat marrying your father made me what I am, but everybody does notknow it, and it is not necessary they should. I don't remember exactlywhat I did say to this Clyde girl, but I thought it would bepleasanter for you, pleasanter for us all, not to have her alwaysaround; it seems she has presided at the table when Dr. Holbrook washere 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 burstout again. "Agnes, you can't deceive me; I know the secret of yourabominable treatment of Maddy Clyde is jealousy. "

"Guy--jealous, I jealous of that child;" and Agnes' voice wasexpressive of the utmost consternation. 

"Yes, jealous of that child; you think that because the doctor hasbeen kind to her, perhaps he wants her some time for his wife. I hopehe does; I mean to help it on; I'll tell him to have her, and if hedon't I'll almost marry her myself!" and Guy paced up and down theparlor, 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, formercy's sake, and I'll do anything, only not this morning, my headaches so I cannot go to the breakfast table; I must be excused, " andholding her temples, which were throbbing with pain, induced by strongexcitement, Agnes hurried to her own room and threw herself upon thebed, angry, mortified and subdued. 

The breakfast bell had rung twice while Guy was holding that interviewwith Agnes, and at last Mrs. Noah came up herself to learn the causeof the delay; standing in the hall she heard a part of what wastranspiring in the parlor. Mrs. Noah was proud and jealous of hermaster's dignity, and once or twice the thought had crossed her mindthat perhaps when he came home Maddy would be treated more as somegovernesses were treated by their employers, but to have Agnes takethe matter up was quite a different thing, and Mrs. Noah smiled withgrim satisfaction, as she heard Guy issuing orders as to how MissClyde should be treated. Standing back to let Agnes pass, she waited amoment, and then, as if she had just come up, presented herself beforeGuy, asking if he were ready for breakfast. 

"Yes, call Miss Clyde; tell her I sent for her, " was Guy's answer, andforthwith Mrs. Noah repaired to Maddy's room, finding her stillsobbing bitterly. 

"I cannot go down, " she said; "my face is all stains, and it's sodreadful, happening on Sunday, too. What would grandpa say?"

"You can wash off the stains. Come, " Mrs. Noah said, pouring waterinto the bowl, and bidding Maddy hurry, "as Mr. Guy was waitingbreakfast for her. "

"But I am not to eat with them, " Maddy began, when Mrs. Noah stoppedher by explaining how Guy ruled that house, and Agnes had beencompletely routed. 

This did not quiet Maddy particularly, and her heart beat painfully asshe descended to the parlor, where Guy was still walking up and down. 

"Come, Miss Clyde, Jessie is nearly famished, " he said pleasantly, asMaddy appeared, and without the slightest reference to what had passedhe drew Maddy's arm within his own, and giving a hand to Jessie, whohad just come in, he went to the breakfast room, where Maddy was toldto preside. 

Guy watched her closely without seeming to do so, mentally decidingthat she was neither vulgar nor awkward. On the contrary, he thoughther very pretty, and very graceful for one so unaccustomed to society. Nothing was said of Agnes, who kept her room the entire day, and didnot join the family until evening, when Guy sat upon the piazza withJessie in his lap, while Maddy was not very far away. At first therewas much constraint between Agnes and Maddy, but with Guy to manage, it soon wore away, and Agnes felt herself exceedingly amiable when shereflected how gracious she had been to her rival. 

But Maddy could not so soon forget. All through the day the convictionhad been settling upon her that she could not stay at Aikenside, andso on the following morning, just after breakfast was over, shesummoned courage to ask Mr. Guy if she might talk with film. Leadingthe way to his library, he bade her sit down, while he took the chairopposite, and then waited for her to commence. 

Maddy was afraid of Guy. He did not seem quite like Dr. Holbrook. Hewas haughtier in his appearance, while his rather elaborate style ofdress and polished manners gave him, in her estimation, a kind ofsuperiority over all the men she had ever met. Besides that, sheremembered how his dark eyes had flashed when she told him what shedid the previous day, and also that she had said to his face that shehated 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. Itwould not be pleasant for me or Mrs. Agnes, so I am going home, but Iwant you to forget what I said about hating you yesterday. I did notthen know who you were. I don't hate you. I like you, and I want youto like me. "

She did not look at him, for her eyelids were cast down, and herlashes were wet with the tears she could scarcely keep from shedding. Guy had never known much about girls of Maddy's age, and there wassomething extremely fascinating in the artless simplicity of this halfchild, half woman, sitting there before him, and asking him sodemurely to like her. She was very pretty, he thought, and with properculture would make a beautiful woman. Then, as he remembered hisavowed intention of urging the doctor to make her his wife some day, the idea flashed upon him that it would be very generous, verymagnanimous in him to educate that young girl expressly for thedoctor, and though he hardly seemed to wait at all ere replying toMaddy, he had in the brief interval formed a skeleton plan, and saw itin all its bearings and triumphal result. 

"I am much obliged for your liking me, " he said, a very littlemischievously. "You surely have not much reason so to do when yourecall the incidents of our first interview. Maddy--Miss Clyde--I havecome to the conclusion that I knew less than you did, and I beg yourpardon for annoying you so terribly. "

Then briefly Guy explained to her how it all had happened, blaminghimself far more than he did the doctor, who, he said, had repentedbitterly. "Had you died, Miss Clyde, when you were so sick, I halfbelieve he would have felt it his duty to die also. He likes you verymuch; more indeed than any patient I ever knew him to have, " and Guy'seyes glanced curiously at Maddy to witness the effect his words mighthave upon her. But Maddy merely answered:

"Yes, I think he does like me, and I know I like him. "

Mentally chastising himself for trying to find in Maddy's head an ideawhich evidently never was there, he began to speak of her propositionof leave, saying he should not suffer it, Jessie needed her and shemust stay. She was not to mind the disagreeable things Mrs. Remingtonhad said. She was tired and nervous, and so gave way to some verypreposterous notions, which she had picked up somewhere. She wouldtreat Maddy better hereafter, and she must stay. It was pleasanter forJessie to have a companion so near her own age. Then, as he saw signsof yielding in Maddy's face, he continued:

"How would you like to turn scholar for a short time each day, I beingyour teacher? Time often hangs heavily upon my hands, and I fancy thenovelty of the thing would suit me. I have books. I will appoint yourlessons and the hour for recitation. "

Guy's face was scarlet by the time he finished speaking, for suddenlyhe remembered to have heard or read of a similar instance whichresulted in the marriage of the teacher and pupil; besides that itwould subject him to so much remark, when it was known that he, thefashionable and fastidious Guy, was teaching a pretty, attractive girllike Maddy Clyde, and he sincerely hoped she would decline. But Maddyhad no such intention. Always in earnest herself, she supposed everyone else meant what they said, and without ever suspecting thepeculiar position in which such a proceeding would place both herselfand Guy, her heart leaped up at the idea of knowing what was in thebooks she had never dared hope she might study. With her beautifuleyes full of tears, which shone like diamonds, as she lifted them toGuy's face, she said:

 "Oh, I thank you so much. You could not make me happier, and I'll tryso hard to learn. They don't teach such things at the district school;and when there was a high school in Honedale I could not go, for itwas three dollars a quarter, and grandpa had no three dollars for me. Uncle Joseph needed help, and so I stayed at home. It's dreadful to bepoor, but, perhaps, I shall some time be competent to teach in aseminary, and won't that be grand? When may I begin?"

Guy had never met with so much frankness and simplicity in any one, unless it were in Lucy Atherstone, of whom Maddy reminded himsomewhat, except that the latter was more practical, more--he hardlyknew what--only there was a difference, and a thought crossed his mindthat if Maddy had had all Lucy's advantages, and was as old, she wouldbe what the world calls smarter. There was no disparagement to Lucy inhis thoughts, only a compliment to Maddy, who was waiting for him toanswer her question. There was no retracting now; he had offered hisservices; she had accepted; and with a mental comment: "I dread Doc'sfun the most, so I'll explain to him how I am educating her for thefuture Mrs. Dr. Holbrook, " he replied:

"As soon as I am rested from my journey, or sooner, if you like; andnow tell me, please, who is this Uncle Joseph of whom you speak?"

He remembered what the doctor had said of a crazy uncle, but wishingto hear Maddy's version of it, put to her the question he did. 

"Uncle Joseph is grandma's youngest brother, " Maddy answered, "and hehas been in the lunatic asylum for years. As long as his littleproperty lasted, his bills were paid, but now they keep him fromcharity, only grandpa helps all he can, and buys some little nicethings which he wants so badly, and sometimes cries for, they say. Ipicked berries all last summer, and sold to buy him a thin coat andpants. We should have more to spend than we do, if it were not forUncle Joseph, " and Maddy's face wore a thoughtful expression as sherecalled all the shifts and turns she'd seen made at home that thepoor maniac might be more comfortable. 

"What made him crazy?" Guy asked, and after a moment's hesitancy Maddyreplied: "I don't believe grandma would mind my telling you, thoughshe don't talk about it much. I only knew it a little while ago. Hewas disappointed once. He loved a girl very much, and she made himthink that she loved him. She was many years younger than UncleJoseph--about my age at first, and when she grew up she said she wassick of him, because he was so much older. He wouldn't have felt sobadly, if she had not gone straight off and married a rich man who wasa great deal older even than Uncle Joseph; that was the hardest part, and he grew crazy at once. It has been so long that he never can behelped, and sometimes grandma talks of bringing him home, as he isperfectly 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 creptover Maddy, as if there had fallen upon her a foreshadowing of whatmight yet be. "Mr. Remington, " she continued suddenly, "if you teachme, I can't, of course, expect three dollars a week. It would not beright. "

"Perfectly right, " he answered. "Your services to Jessie will be worthjust 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 toldthe doctor that afternoon when, as he rode up to Aikenside, she methim out on the lawn before he reached the house. 

It did strike the doctor a little comically that one of Guy's habitsshould offer to turn school teacher, but Maddy was so glad, that hewas glad too, and doubly glad that across the sea there was a LucyAtherstone. How he wished that she was there now as Mrs. Guy, and hemust tell Guy so that very day. Seated in Guy's library, theopportunity soon occurred, Guy approaching the subject himself bysaying:

"Guess, Hal, what crazy project I have just embarked in. "

"I know without guessing; Maddy told me, " and the doctor's eyebrowswere elevated just a little as he crossed his feet upon the windowsill and moved his chair so as to have a better view of Maddy andJessie romping in the grass. 

"And so you don't approve?" was Guy's next remark, to which the doctorreplied:

"Why, yes; it's a grand thing for her, providing you know enough toteach her; but, Guy, this is a confounded gossiping neighborhood, andfolks will talk, I'm afraid. "

"Talk about what!" and Guy bridled up as his independent spirit beganto rise, "What harm is there in my doing a generous act to a poor girllike Maddy Clyde? Isn't she graceful as a kitten, though?" and Guynodded toward the spot where she was playing. 

It annoyed the doctor to have Guy praise Maddy, but he would not showit, and answered calmly:

"It's all right in you, but just because the poor girl is Maddy Clyde, folks will talk. She is too handsome, Guy, for Madam Grundy to letalone. If Lucy were only here, it would be different. Why, in the nameof 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 thedoctor's shoulder. "I did not suppose you had got as far as that. Youare afraid of the effect it may have on me teaching a sweet-facedlittle 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 thesecret?"

The doctor was in no mood for joking, and only smiled gloomily, whileGuy continued:

"Honestly, doctor, I am doing it for you. I imagine you fancy her, aswell you may. She'll make a splend'd woman, but she needs educating, of course, and I am going to do it. You ought to thank me, instead oflooking so like a thundercloud, " and Guy laughed merrily. 

The doctor was ashamed of his mood, and could not tell what spiritprompted him to answer:

"I am obliged to you, Guy; but as far as I am concerned, you may spareyourself 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 thedoctor did not care for Maddy? It might be, and he hastened to changethe conversation to another topic than Maddy Clyde. The doctor stayedto dinner, and as Guy watched him closely, he made up his mind that hedid care for Maddy Clyde, and this confirmed him in his plan ofeducating her for him. 

Magnanimous Guy! He felt himself very good, very generous, verycondescending, and very forgiving, the early portion of the afternoon;but later in the day he began to view Guy Remington in the light of amartyr, said martyrdom consisting in the scornful toss of the headwith which Agnes had listened to his plan, and the open opposition ofMrs. Noah. 

"Was he beside himself, or what?" this worthy asked. "She liked MaddyClyde, to be sure, but it wasn't for him to demean himself by turningher school master. Folks would talk awfully, and she couldn't blame'em; besides, what would Lucy say to his bein' alone in a room with agirl as pretty as Maddy? It was a duty he owed her at any rate to tellher 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 onher judgment, he decided to write to Lucy to see if she had theslightest objections to his teaching Maddy Clyde. Accordingly he wrotethat very night, telling her frankly all he knew concerning MaddyClyde, and narrating the circumstances under which he first had mether, being careful also to repeat what he knew would have weight withan English girl like Lucy, to wit, that though poor, Maddy's fatherand grandfather Clyde had been gentlemen, the one a clergyman, theother a sea captain. Then he told of her desire for learning, and hisplan to teach her himself, of what the doctor and Mrs. Noah said aboutit, and his final determination to consult her. Then he describedMaddy herself, feeling a strange thrill as he told how pure, howinnocent, how artless and beautiful she was, and asked if Lucy fearedaught from his association with her. 

"If you do, " he wrote, "you have but to say so, and though I amcommitted, I will extricate myself in some way rather than wound youin 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 hehad agreed to do. But Maddy was not suspicious, and accepting histrivial excuse, waited patiently, while he, too, waited for theletter, wondering what it would contain. 

CHAPTER XII. 

A GENEROUS LETTER. 

At last the answer came, and it was Maddy who brought it to Guy. Shehad been home that day, and on her return had ridden by the office asGuy had requested her to do. She saw the letter bore a foreignpostmark, also that it was in the delicate handwriting of some female, but the sight did not affect her in the least. Maddy's heart was fartoo heavy that day to care for a trifle, and so placing the lettercarefully in her basket she kept on to Aikenside. 

The letter was decidedly Lucy-ish in all that pertained to her"dearest darling, " her "precious Guy, " but when she came to MaddyClyde, her true, womanly nature spoke; and Guy, while reading it, felthow good she was. Of course he might teach Maddy Clyde all he wishedto teach her, and it made Lucy love him better to know that he waswilling to do such things. She wished she was there to help him; theywould open a school for all the poor, but she did not know when mammawould let her come. That pain in her side was not any better, and hercough had come earlier this season than last. The physician hadadvised a winter in Naples, and they were going before very long. Itwould be pleasant there, no doubt, only she should be farther awayfrom her boy Guy, but she would think of him, oh, so often, teachingthat dear little Maddy Clyde, and she would pray for him, too, just asshe always did. Then followed a few more lines sacred to the lover'seye, lines which told how pure was the love which sweet LucyAtherstone bore for Guy Remington, who, as he read, felt his heartbeat with a throb of pain, for Lucy spoke to him now for the firsttime of what might possibly be. 

"I've dreamed about it nights, " she said. "I've thought about it days, and tried so hard to be reconciled; to feel that if God will have itso, I am willing to die before you have ever called me your littlewife, 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, alife with you looks so very sweet, that sometimes your little Lucyshrinks from the dark grave, which would hide her forever from you. Guy, you once said you never prayed, and it made me feel so badly, butyou will, when you get this, won't you? You will ask God to make mewell, and may be He will hear you. Do, Guy, please do pray for yourLucy, far away over the sea. "

Guy could not resist that touching appeal, "to pray for his littleLucy, " and though his lips were all unused to prayer, bowing his headupon his hands he did ask that she might live, beseeching the Fatherto send upon him any calamity save this one--Lucy must be spared. Guyfelt better for having prayed, it was something to tell Lucy, something that would please her well, and though his heart yet wasvery sad, a part of the load was lifted, and he could think of Lucynow without the bitter pain her letter first had cost him. Was therenothing that would save her, nobody who could cure her? Her diseasewas not hereditary; surely it might be made to yield; had Englishphysicians no skill, would not an American do better? It was possible, and if that mother of Lucy's would let her come where doctors knewsomething, she might get well; but she wouldn't; she was determinedthat no husband should be burdened with an ailing wife, and so if themountain would not come to Mahomet, why, Mahomet must go to themountain, and Guy fairly leaped from his chair as he exclaimed: "Ihave it--Doc!--he's the most skillful man I ever knew; I'll send himto England; send him to the Atherstones; he shall go to Naples withthem as their family physician; he can cure Lucy; I'll speak to himthe very next time he comes here;" and with another burden lifted fromhis mind, Guy began to wonder where Maddy was, and why that day hadbeen 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, whenhe 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 hewould, if she chose, appoint the lessons talked about so long. Ordinarily, Maddy's eyes would have flashed with delight, for she hadanticipated so much from these lessons; now, however, there was a sadlook upon her face and she could scarcely keep from crying as she cameat Guy's bidding, and sat upon the sofa, near to his armchair. Somehowit rested Guy to look at Maddy Clyde, who, having recovered from herillness, seemed the very embodiment of perfect health, a health whichglowed and sparkled all over her bright face; showing itself as wellin the luxuriance of her glossy hair as in the brilliancy of hercomplexion, and the flash of her lustrous eyes. How Guy wished thatLucy could share in what seemed almost superfluity of health; and whyshouldn't she? Dr. Holbrook had cured Maddy; Dr. Holbrook could cureLucy; and so for the present dismissing that from his mind, he turnedto Maddy, and said the time had come when he could give those promisedlessons, asking if she would commence to-morrow, after she was throughwith Jessie, and what she would prefer to take up first?

"Oh, Mr. Remington, " and Maddy began to cry: "I am afraid I cannotstay they need me at home, or maybe Grandpa said so and I don't wantto go, though I know it's wicked not to; oh, dear, dear!"

Here Maddy broke down entirely, sobbing so convulsively that Guybecame alarmed, and wondered what he ought to do to quiet her. As shesat the bowed head was just within his reach, and so he very naturallylaid his hand upon it, and as if it had been Jessie's smoothed thesilken hair, while he asked why she must go home. Had anythingoccurred to make her presence more necessary than it was at Aikenside?and into the young man's heart there crept a feeling that Aikensidewould be very lonely without Maddy Clyde. 

Controlling her voice as well as she was able, Maddy told him how thephysicians at the asylum had written that as Uncle Joseph would in allhuman probability never be perfectly sane, and as a change of scenewould do him good, Mr. Markham had better try taking him a while; thathaving been spoken with upon the subject, he seemed as anxious as alittle child, even crying when the night came around and he was not athome, as he expressed it. "They have kept him so long, " Maddy said, "that grandpa thought it his duty to relieve them, though he can'twell afford it, and so he's coming next week, and grandma will needsome one to help, and I must go. I know it's wrong, but I do not wantto go, try as I will"

It was a gloomy prospect to exchange Aikenside for the humble homewhere poverty had its abode, and it was not very strange that Maddyshould shrink from it at first. She did not stop to ask what was herduty, or think how much happiness her presence might give hergrandparents, or how much she might cheer and amuse the weak imbecile, her uncle. She was but human, and so when Guy began to devise ways ofpreventing her going, she listened, while the pain at her heart grewless as her faith in Guy grew stronger. He would drive down with herto-morrow, he said, and see what could be done. Meanwhile she must dryher eyes and go to Jessie, who was calling her. 

As Guy had half expected, the doctor came around that evening, andinviting him into his private room, Guy proceeded at once to unfoldhis 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 anestimate, and then inquired why Guy had asked the question. 

"Because, Doc, I have a project on foot. Lucy Atherstone is dying withwhat they call consumption. I don't believe those old fogiesunderstand her disease, and if you will go over to England andundertake her cure, I'll give you just double what you'll get byremaining here. They are going to Naples for the winter, and, undoubtedly, will spend some time in Paris. It will be just the thingfor you. Lucy and her mother will be glad of your services when theyknow I sent you, Lucy likes you now. Will you go? You can trust Maddyto me. I'll take good care that she is worthy of you when you comeback. "

At the mention of Maddy's name, the doctor's brow darkened. He wassure that Guy meant kindly, but it grated on his feelings to be thusjoked about what he knew was a stern reality. Guy's project appearedto him at first a most insane one, but as he continued to enlarge uponit, and the advantage it would be to the doctor to travel in the oldworld, a feeling of enthusiasm was kindled in his own breast; a desireto visit Naples and France, and the places he had dreamed of as a boy, but never hoped to see, Guy's plan began to look more feasible, andpossibly he might have yielded but for one thought, and that a thoughtof Maddy Clyde. He would not leave her alone with Guy, even though Guywas true to Lucy as steel. He would stay; he would watch; and in timehe would win the young girl waiting now for him in the hall below, waiting to tell him 'mid blushes of shame and tears of regret how shehad meant to pay him with her very first wages, but now, Uncle Josephwas coming home, and he must wait a little longer. 

"Would he, could he be so good?" and unmindful of Guy's presence Maddylaid her hand confidingly upon his arm, while her soft eyes lookedbeseechingly into his. 

How the doctor wished Guy was away, and kindly taking the hint, Guyleft them together in the lighted hall. Sitting down on the sofa, andmaking Maddy sit beside him, the doctor began:

"Maddy, you know I mean what I say, at least to you, and when I tellyou that I never think of that bill except when you speak of it, youwill believe me. I know your grandfather's circumstances, and I know, too, that I did much to induce your sickness, consequently if I madeone out at all, it would be a very small one. "

He did not get any further, for Maddy hastily interrupted him, andwhile her eyes flashed with pride, exclaimed:

"I will not be a charity patient! I say I will not! I'd be a hiredgirl before I'd do it!"

It troubled the doctor to see Maddy so disturbed about dollars andcents--to know that poverty was pressing its iron hand upon her youngheart; and only because she was so young did he refrain from offeringher then and there a resting place from the ills of life in hissheltering love. But she was not prepared, and he should only defeathis object by his rashness, so he restrained himself, though he didpass his arm partly around her waist as he said to her:

"I tell you, Maddy, honestly, that when I want that bill liquidatedI'll ask you. I certainly will, and I'll let you pay it, too. Doesthat satisfy you?"

Yes, Maddy was satisfied, and after a little the doctor continued:

"By the way, Maddy, I have some idea of going to Europe for a fewmonths, or a year or more. You know it does a physician good to studyawhile in Paris. What do you think of it? Shall I go?"

The doctor had become quite necessary to Maddy's happiness. He it wasto whom she confided all her little troubles, and to lose him would bea terrible loss, and so she answered that if it would be much betterfor him she supposed he ought to go, though she should miss him sadlyand be so lonely without him. 

"Would you, Maddy? Are you in earnest? Would you be lonelier for mybeing gone?" the doctor asked, eagerly. With her usual truthfulness, Maddy replied: "Of course I should;" and, when, after the conferencewas ended, the doctor stood for a moment talking with Guy, ere biddinghim good-night, he said: "I think I shall not accept your Europeanproposition. Somebody else must cure Lucy. "

The next day, as Guy had proposed, he rode down to Honedale, takingMaddy with him, and offering so many reasons why she should not becalled home, that the old people began to relent, particularly as theysaw how Maddy's heart was set on the lessons Guy was going to giveher. She might never have a like opportunity, the young man said, andas a good education would put her fa the way of helping them when theywere older and needed her more, it was their duty to leave her withthem. He knew they objected to her receiving three dollars a week, buthe should pay it just the same, and if they chose they might, with apart of it, hire a little girl to do the work which Maddy would dowere she at home. All this sounded very feasible, especially as it wasbacked up by Maddy's eyes, brimful of tears, and fixed pleadingly uponher grandfather. The sight of them, more than Guy's arguments, influenced the old man, who decided that if grandma were willing Maddyshould stay, unless absolutely needed at the cottage. Then the tearsburst forth, and winding her arms around her grandfather's neck, Maddysobbed out her thanks, asking if it were selfish and wicked andnaughty in her to prefer learning rather than staying there. 

"Not if that's your only reason, " grandpa replied. "It's right to wantlearning, quite right; but, if my child is biased by the fine thingsat Aikenside, and hates to come back to her poor home, because 'tispoor, I should say it was very natural, but not exactly right. "

Maddy was very happy after it was settled, and chatted gayly with hergrandmother, while Guy went out with her grandfather, who wished tospeak with him alone. 

"Young man, " he said, "you have taken a deep interest in me and minesince I first came to know you, and I thank you for it all. I'venothing to give in return except my prayers, and those you have everyday; 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, ofcourse, ever dream of making her your wife, and, if I thought--yes, ifI supposed"--here grandpa's voice trembled, and his face became alivid hue with the horror of the idea--"if I supposed that in yourheart there was the shadow of an intention to deceive my child, toruin my Maddy, I'd throttle you here on the spot, old as I am, andbitterly as I should repent the rashness. "

Guy attempted to speak, but grandpa motioned him to be silent, whilehe went on:

"I do not suspect you, and that's why I trust her with you. My oldeyes 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. MyAlice was elevated, folks thought, by marrying Captain Clyde, but Idon't think so. She was pure and good as the angels, and Maddy is muchlike her, only she has the ambition of the Clydes: has their taste foreverything a little above her. She wouldn't make nobody blush if shewas mistress of Aikenside. "

Grandpa felt relieved when he had said all this to Guy, who listenedpolitely, smiling at the idea of his deceiving Maddy, and fullyconcurring with grandpa in all he said of her rare beauty and naturalgracefulness. On their return to the house grandpa showed Guy thebedroom intended for Uncle Joseph, and Guy, as he glanced at thefurniture, though within himself how he would send down from Aikensidesome of the unused articles piled away on the garret when herefurnished his house. He was becoming greatly interested in theMarkhams, caring nothing for the remarks his interest might exciteamong the neighbors, some of whom watched Maddy half curiously as inthe stylish carriage, beside its stylish owner, she rode back toAikenside in the quiet, autumnal afternoon. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

UNCLE JOSEPH. 

In course of time Uncle Joseph came as was arranged, and on the dayfollowing Maddy and Guy rode down to see him, finding him a tall, powerfully built man, retaining many vestiges of manly beauty, andfully warranting all Mrs. Markham had said in his praise. He seemedperfectly gentle and harmless, though when Guy was announced as Mr. Remington, Maddy noticed that in his keen black eyes there was for aninstant 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 allright. "

And the fiery eye grew soft and almost sleepy in its expression, asthe poor lunatic turned next to Maddy, telling her how pretty she was, asking if she were engaged, and bidding her be careful that her_fiance_ was not more than a dozen years older than herself. 

Uncle Joseph seemed to take to her from the very first, following herfrom room to room, touching her fair, soft cheeks, smoothing hersilken hair, telling her Sarah's used to curl, asking if she knewwhere Sarah was, and finally crying for her as a child cries for itsmother, when at last she went away. Much of this Maddy had repeated toJessie, as in the twilight they sat together in the parlor atAikenside; and Jessie was not the only listener, for, with her faceresting on her hand, and her head bent eagerly forward, Agnes sat, soas not to lose a word of what Maddy was saying of Uncle Joseph. Theintelligence that he was coming to the red cottage had been followedwith a series of headaches, so severe and protracted that Dr. Holbrookhad pronounced her really sick, and had been unusually attentive. Anxiously she had waited for the result of Maddy's visit to the poorlunatic, and her face was colorless as marble as she heard himdescribed, while a faint sigh escaped her when Maddy told what he hadsaid of Sarah. 

Agnes was changed somewhat of late. She had grown more thoughtful andquiet, while her manner toward Maddy was not as haughty as formerly. Guy thought her improved, and thus was not so delighted as he wouldotherwise have been, when, one day, about two weeks after UncleJoseph's arrival at Honedale, she startled him by saying she thoughtit nearly time for her to return to Boston, if she meant to spend thewinter there, and asked what she should do with Jessie. 

Guy was not quite willing for Agnes to leave him there alone, but whenhe saw that she was determined, he consented to her going, with theunderstanding that Jessie was to remain--a plan which Agnes did notoppose, as a child so large as Jessie might stand in the way of herbeing as gay as she meant to be in Boston. Jessie, too, whenconsulted, said she would far rather stay at Aikenside; and so oneNovember morning, Agnes, wrapped in velvet and furs, kissed her littledaughter, and bidding good-by to Maddy and the servants, left aneighborhood which, since Uncle Joseph was so near, had become sointolerable that not even the hope of winning the doctor could availto keep her in it. 

Guy accompanied her to the city, wondering why, when he used to likeit so much, it now seemed dull and tiresome, or why the society he hadformerly enjoyed failed to bring back the olden pleasure he hadexperienced when a resident of Boston. Guy was very popular there, andmuch esteemed by his friends of both sexes, and great were the effortsmade to entertain and keep him as long as possible. But Guy could notbe prevailed upon to stay there long, and after seeing Agnes settledin one of the most fashionable boarding houses, he started forAikenside. 

It was dark when he reached home, and as the evening had closed inwith a heavy rain, the house presented rather a cheerless appearance, particularly as, in consequence of Mrs. Noah's not expecting him thatday, no fires had been kindled in the parlors, or in any room exceptthe library. There a bright coal fire was blazing in the grate, andthither Guy repaired, finding, as he had expected, Jessie and herteacher. Not liking to intrude on Mr. Guy, of whom she still stoodsomewhat in awe, Maddy soon arose to leave, but Guy bade her stay; heshould be lonely without her, he said, and so bringing her work shesat down to sew, while Jessie looked over a book of prints, and Guyupon the lounge studied the face which, it seemed to him, grew eachday more and more beautiful. Then he talked with her of books, and thelessons which were to be resumed on the morrow, watching Maddy as herbright face sparkled and glowed with excitement. Then he questionedher of her father's family, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction inknowing that the Clydes were not a race of whose blood any one need beashamed; and Maddy was more like them he was sure than like theMarkhams, and Guy shivered a little as he recalled the peculiardialect of Mr. And Mrs. Markham, and remembered that they were Maddy'sgrandparents. Not that it was anything to him. Oh, no, only as aninmate of his family he felt interested in her, more so perhaps thanyoung 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 superiorityto 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 tofeel the difference, but any haughty arrogance of which he might havebeen guilty was kept down by his extreme good sense and generous, impulsive nature. He liked Maddy; he liked to look at her as, in thebecoming crimson merino which he really and Jessie nominally had givenher, she sat before him, with the firelight falling on her beautifulhair, and making shadows on her sunny face. 

Guy was luxurious in his tastes, and it seemed to him that Maddy wasjust the picture to set off that room, or in fact all the rooms atAikenside. She would disgrace none of them, and he found himselfwishing that Providence had made her something to him--sister orcousin, or anything that would make her one of the Remington line. 

And now, my reader, do not fall to abusing Guy, or accuse him offorgetting Lucy Atherstone, for he did not. He thought of her manytimes that evening, and in his dreams that night Lucy and Maddy sharedpretty equally, but the latter was associated with the lessons of themorrow, while Lucy was the bright daystar for which he lived andhoped. 

It did not take long for the people of Sommerville to hear that GuyRemington had actually turned schoolmaster, having in his library fortwo hours or more each day Jessie's little girl-governess, about whosebrilliant beauty there was so much said--people wondering, as peoplewill, where it would end, and if it could be possible that the haughtyGuy had forgotten his English Lucy and gone to educating a wife. 

The doctor, to whom these remarks were sometimes made, silentlygnashed his teeth, then said savagely that "if Guy chose to teachMaddy Clyde, he did not see whose business it was, " and then rode overto Aikenside to see the teacher and pupil, half hoping that Guy wouldsoom tire of his project and give it up. But Guy grew more and morepleased with his employment, until, at last, from giving Maddy twohours of his time, he came to give her four, esteeming them thepleasantest of the whole twenty-four. Guy was proud of Maddy'simprovement, praising her often to the doctor, who also marveled atthe rapid development of her mind and the progress she made, graspinga knotty point almost before it was explained, and retaining withwonderful tenacity what she learned. 

It mattered nothing to Guy that neighbors gossiped there were nonefamiliar 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 inHonedale, so in Sommerville Maddy was a favorite, and those whointerested themselves most in the matter never said anything worse ofher and Mr. Guy than that he might perhaps be educating his own wife, and insinuating that it would be a great "come up" for GrandfatherMarkham's child. But Maddy never dreamed of such a thing, and kept onher pleasant way, reciting every day to Guy and going every Wednesdayto the red cottage, whither, after the first visit to Uncle Joseph, Guy never accompanied her. Jessie, on the contrary, went often toHonedale, where one at least always greeted her coming, stealing upclosely to her, and whispering softly: "My Daisy is come again. "

From the first Uncle Joseph had taken to Jessie, calling her Sarah fora while, and then changing the name to "Daisy"--"Daisy Mortimer, hislittle girl, " he persisted in calling her, watching from his windowfor her coming, and crying whenever Maddy appeared without her. Atfirst Agnes, from her city home, forbade Jessie's going so often tosee a lunatic; but when Jessie described the poor, crazy man's delightat sight of her, telling how quiet and happy he seemed if he could butlay his hand on her head, or touch her hair, she withdrew herrestrictions, and, as if moved to an unwonted burst of tenderness, wrote to her daughter: "Comfort that crazy man all you can; he needsit so much. "

A few weeks after there came another letter from Agnes, but this timeit was to Guy, and its contents darkened his handsome face with angerand vexation. Incidentally Agnes had heard the gossip, and written itto Guy, adding in conclusion: "Of course I know it is not true, forever if there were no Lucy Atherstone, you, of all men, would notstoop to Maddy Clyde. I do not presume to advise, but I will say this, that now she is growing a young lady, folks will keep on talking solong as you keep her there in the house; and it's hardly fair towardLucy. "

This was what knotted up Guy's forehead and made him, as Jessie said, "real cross for once. " Somehow, he fancied, latterly, that the doctordid not like Maddy's being there, while even Mrs. Noah managed to keepher out of his way as soon as the lessons were ended. What did theymean? what were they afraid of, and why did they presume to interferewith him? he'd know, at all events; and summoning Mrs. Noah to hispresence, he read that part of Agnes' letter, pertaining to Maddy, andthen asked what it meant. 

"It means this, that folks are in a constant worry, for fear you'llfall in love with Maddy Clyde. "

"I fall in love with that child!" Guy repeated, laughing at the idea, and forgetting that he had long since, accused the doctor of doingthat very thing. 

"Yes, you, " returned Mrs. Noah, "and 'taint strange they do; Maddy isnot a child: she's nearer sixteen than fifteen, is almost a younglady; and if you'll excuse my boldness, I must say, I ain't any toowell pleased with the goin's on myself; not that I don't like thegirl, for I do, and I don't blame her an atom. She's as innocent as anew-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, asyou used to, before you took up school-keepin'?"

Guy did not like to be interfered with, and naturally high-spirited, he at first flew into a passion, declaring that he would not havefolks meddling with him, that he thought of Lucy Atherstone all thetime, and he did not know what more he could do; that 'twas a pity ifa man could not enjoy himself in his own way, provided that way wereharmless, that he'd never, in all his life, spent so happy a winter asthe 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 whenshe recites, as she does; and once when she was workin' out some ofthem 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 Jessieis drummin' on the piano, why don't you bend over her, and turn theleaves, and count the time, as you do when Maddy plays; and how doesit happen that lately Jessie is one too many, when you hear Maddy'slessons. She has no suspicions, but I know she ain't sent off fornothin'; I know you'd rather be alone with Maddy Clyde than to haveanybody 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 wasin his library, but it had never looked to him in just the light itdid when presented by Mrs. Noah, and he doggedly asked what Mrs. Noahwould have him do. 

"First and foremost, then, I'd have you tell Maddy yourself that youare engaged to Lucy Atherstone; second, I'd have you write to Lucy allabout it, and if you honestly can, tell her that you only care forMaddy 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 hecaught a glimpse of where he stood; still he would not believe it, orconfess to himself how strong a place in his affections was held bythe beautiful girl now no longer a child. It was almost a year sincethat April afternoon when he first met Maddy Clyde, and from a timid, bashful child, of fourteen and a half, she had grown to the rathertall, and rather self-possessed maiden of fifteen and a half, almostsixteen, as Mrs. Noah said, "almost a woman;" and as if to verify thelatter fact, she herself appeared at that very moment, askingpermission to come in and find a book, which had been mislaid, andwhich she needed in hearing Jessie's lessons. 

"Certainly, come in, " Guy said, and folding his arms he leaned againstthe mantel, watching her as she hunted for the missing book. 

There was no pretense about Maddy Clyde, nothing put on for effect, and yet in every movement she showed marks of great improvement, bothin manner and style. Of one hundred people who might glance at her, ninety-nine would look a second time, asking who she was. Naturallygraceful and utterly forgetful of herself, she always appeared to goodadvantage, and never to better than now, when two pairs of eyes werewatching her, as standing on tiptoe, or kneeling upon the floor tolook under the secretary, she hunted for the book. Not the remotestsuspicion had Maddy of what was occupying the thoughts of hercompanions, though as she left the room and glanced brightly up atGuy, it struck her that his face was dark and moody, and a painfulsensation 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 footkicked the fender, and he mentally compared Lucy and Maddy with eachother, and tried to think that it was not the result of thatcomparison, but rather Mrs. Noah's next remark, which affected himunpleasantly. The remark or remarks were as follows:

"Of course she'll make a splendid woman. Everybody notices her now forher beauty, and that's why you've no business to keep her here whereyou 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 asyou treat her without its having an effect. I've no idea that it'sentered her head yet, but it will by-and-by, and then good-by to herhappiness. "

"For pity's sake, what do you mean? Do explain, and not talk to me inriddles. What have I done to Maddy, or what am I going to do?"

Gay spoke savagely, and his boots were in great danger of being burnedas he kicked vigorously against the fender. Coming nearer to him, andlowering her voice, Mrs. Noah replied:

"You are going to teach her to love you, Guy Remington, just as sureas my name is Noah. "

"And is that anything so very bad, I'd like to know. Most girls do notfind love distasteful, " and Guy walked hastily to the window, where hestood for a moment gazing out upon the soft April snow, which wasfalling, and feeling anything but satisfied either with the weather orhimself; then walking back, and taking a seat before the fire, hesaid: "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 timeget to--to--think of me as she ought not. I never looked upon it inthis light before. I've been so happy with her;" here Guy's voicefaltered a little, but he recovered himself and went on: "I will tellher about Lucy tonight, but the sending her away, I can't do that. Neither will she be happy to go back where I took her from, for thoughthe best of people, they are not like Maddy, and you know it. "

Yes, Mrs. Noah did know it, and pleased that her boy, as she calledGuy, had shown some signs of penitence and amendment, she said she didnot think it necessary to send Maddy home; she did not advise iteither. She liked the girl, and what she advised was this, that Guyshould send Maddy and Jessie both to boarding school. Agnes, she knew, would be willing, and it was the best thing he could do. Maddy wouldthus learn what was expected of a teacher, and as soon as shegraduated, she could procure some eligible situation, or if Lucy werethere, and desired it, she could come and stay forever for all whatsue cared, "And during the vacations, where must she go then?" Guy asked. 

"Go where she pleases, of course. As Jessie is so fond of her, andthey are much like sisters, it will not be improper for her to comehere, as I see, provided Agnes is here. Her presence, of course, wouldmake a difference, " Mrs. Noah replied, while Guy continued:

"I know you are right; that is, I do not wish to do Maddy a harm byplacing temptation in her way, neither will I have everybody meddlingwith my business. I tell you I won't. I don't mean you, for you have aright to say what no one else has, " and he glanced half angrily atMrs. Noah. "Pity if I can't take an interest in a girl, because I oncewronged her, without every old woman in Christendom thinking she needsto fall in love with me, and so be ruined for life. Maddy Clyde hastoo 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 grateuntil the concussion sent the red-hot coals out upon the carpet as hereplied:

"True? Yes, every word of it. "

Mrs. Noah noted all this, and thinking within herself:

"I orto have took him in hand long ago, " she came up to him and saidkindly, 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 youtell her about Lucy and the plan. "

Guy nodded a little jerking kind of a nod, in token of his assent, andthen with that perversity which prompts women particularly to press asubject after enough has been said upon it, Mrs. Noah, as she turnedto leave the room, gave vent to the following:

"You know, Guy, as well as I, that pretty and smart as she is, Maddyis really beneath you, and no kind of a match, even if you wan't asgood as married, which you be;" and the good lady left the room intime to escape seeing the sparks fly up the chimney, as Guy now made amost vigorous use of the poker, and so did not finish the scorchingprocess commenced on the end of his boot. 

Mrs. Noah's last remark awakened in Guy a Singular train of thought. Yes, Maddy was his inferior as the world saw matters, and settlinghimself in the chair he tried to fancy what that same world would sayif he should make Maddy his wife. Of course he had no such intention, he was just imagining something which never could possibly happen, because in the first place he wouldn't marry Maddy Clyde if he could, and he couldn't if he would! Still, it was not an unpleasantoccupation fancying what folks, and especially Agnes, would say if hedid, 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 thewhole was over, started for the supper. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

MADDY AND LUCY. 

Supper was over, and Guy was back again in his library. He had notstopped as he usually did, to romp with Jessie or talk to Maddy Clyde, until it was so dark that he could not see her sparkling face, but hadcome directly back, dropping the heavy curtains and piling fresh coalupon the fire. Mrs. Noah had lighted the lamps and then gone afterMaddy, explaining to Jessie how she must stay with her while Maddywent to Mr. Guy, who wanted to talk with her. 

"Is he angry with me, Mrs. Noah?" and remembering his moody looks whenshe went in quest of the book, Maddy felt her heart misgive her as towhat might be the result of an interview with Guy. 

Mrs. Noah, however, reassured her, and Maddy stole for a moment to herown room to see how she was looking. The crimson dress, with its softedge of lace about the slender throat, became her well, and smoothingthe folds of her black silk apron, whose jaunty shoulder pieces gaveher a very girlish appearance, she went down to where Guy was waitingfor her. He heard her coming, and involuntarily drew nearer to him thechair where he intended she should sit. But Maddy took instead astool, and leaning her elbow on the chair, turned her face fullytoward 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 thehappiness she tried to express. 

It was at least a minute before he spoke again, and when he did, itcame out how he had concluded it best to send her and Jessie toschool, for a year or two at least; not that he was tired of teachingher, but it would be better for her, he thought, to mingle with othergirls and learn the ways of the world. Aikenside would still be herhome, still the place where her vacations would be spent with Jessieif she chose, and then he spoke of New York as the place he had inview, and asked her what she thought of it. 

Maddy was too much stunned to think of anything at first. That thegood she had coveted most should be placed within her grasp, and byGuy Remington too, was almost too much to credit. She was happy atAikenside, but she had never expected her life there to continue verylong, and had often wished that when it ended she might devise somemeans of entering a seminary as other young ladies did. But she hadnever dreamed of being sent to school by Guy, nor could she conceiveof his motive. He hardly knew himself, only he liked her, and wishedto do something for her. This was his reply to her tearful question:

"Oh, Mr. Remington, you are so good to me; what makes you?"

He liked her, and all over Maddy's face there spread a beautiful flushas the words rang in her ears. And then she told Guy how much shewished to be a teacher, and so take care of her grandparents and herpoor Uncle Joseph. It seemed almost cruel for that young creature tobe burdened with the care of those three half-helpless people, and Guyshuddered just as he usually did when he associated Maddy with them, but when he listened while she told him of all the castles she hadbuilt, and in every one of which there was a place for "our folks, " asshe termed them, it was more in the form of a blessing than a caressthat his hand rested on her shining hair. 

"You are a good girl, Maddy, " he said, "and I am glad now that I haveconcluded to send you where you can be better fitted for the officeyou mean to fill than you could be here, but I shall miss you sadly. Ilike little girls, and though you can hardly be classed there now, youseem to me much like Jessie, and I take pleasure in doing for you as Iwould for her. Maddy---"

Guy stopped, uncertain what to say next, while Maddy's eyes againlooked up inquiringly. 

He was going now to tell "the little girl much like Jessie" of LucyAtherstone, 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, butthe "her" dispelled that thought, and a most inexplicable feeling ofnumbness crept over her as she asked faintly:

"Written to whom?"

Guy did not look at Maddy. He only knew that her head moved out frombeneath his hand as he replied:

"To Miss Atherstone--Miss Lucy Atherstone. Have you never heard ofher?"

No, Maddy never had, and with that same numbness she could notunderstand, she listened while Guy told her who Lucy Atherstone was, and why she was not at that moment the mistress of Aikenside. Therewas no reason why Guy should be excited, but he was, and he talkedvery rapidly, never once glancing at Maddy until he had finishedspeaking. She was looking at him intently, wondering if he could hearas 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 bandsof steel, seemed to press all the feeling out of it. She did not knowwhy 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 sosweet a creature as he described her to be. He was glad, she knew, hetalked so energetically--so much as if it were a pleasure to talk; andshe was glad, too, only it had taken her so by surprise to know thatMr. Guy, whom she had rather considered as exclusively her own andJessie's was engaged, and that some time, before long it might be, Aikenside would really have a mistress. She did not quite understandGuy's last words, although she was looking at him, and he asked hertwice if she would like to see Lucy's picture ere she comprehendedwhat he meant. 

"Yes, " came faintly from the parted lips, about which there was aslight quiver as she put up her hand to take the case Guy drew fromhis bosom. 

Turning it to the light she gazed silently upon the sweet young face, which seemed to return her gaze with a look as earnest and lifelike asher 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 hiswarm breath touched her burning cheeks. 

"Yes, she's beautiful, oh! so beautiful, and happy, too. I wish I hadbeen like her. I wish--" and Maddy burst into a most uncontrollablefit of weeping, her tears dropping like rain upon the inanimatefeatures of Lucy Atherstone. 

Guy looked at her amazed, his own heart throbbing with a keen pang ofsomething undefinable as he listened to her stormy weeping. What didail her? he wondered. Could it be that the evil against which he wasproviding had really come upon her? Was Maddy more interested in himthan he supposed? He hoped not, though with a man's vanity he felt aslight thrill of satisfaction in thinking that it might be so. Guyknew this feeling was not worthy of him, and he struggled to cast itoff, 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 Atherstoneis 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 ahand 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 amgoing to write to her to-night, and shall tell her more about you. Iwant you to like each other very much when she comes, so that you maylive with us. Aikenside would not be Aikenside without you, Maddy. "

In all his wooings of Lucy Atherstone, Guy's voice had never beentenderer in its tone than when he said this to Maddy, whose lipquivered again, and who involuntarily laid her head now upon his kneeas she cried a second time, not noisily, but quietly, softly, as ifthis crying did her good. For several minutes they sat there thus, thenature of their thoughts known only to each other, for neither spoke, until Maddy, half ashamed of her emotions, lifted up her head, andsaid:

"I do not know what made me cry, only I'd been so happy here that Iguess I'd come to think that you only liked Jessie and me. Of course Iknew that some time you would see and think all the world of somebodyelse, but I did not expect it so soon. I am afraid Miss Atherstonewill not fancy me, and I know most I shall not feel as free here, after she comes, as I do now. Then your being so good, sending me toschool, helped me to cry more, and so I was very foolish. Don't tellMiss 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 whatshe said, but Guy, the bad man, did not feel as graciously as he oughtto have felt in knowing that Maddy Clyde was glad "Lucy loved him, andwas to be his wife, "

Guy was rather uncomfortable, and as Maddy was in some way associatedwith his discomfort, he did not oppose her when she arose to leavehim. 

Had Maddy been more a woman, or less a child, she would have seen thatit was well for her to know of Lucy Atherstone before her feelings forGuy Remington had assumed a definite form. As it was, she neverdreamed how near she was to loving Aikenside's young heir; and whiletalking with Jessie of the grand times they should have at school, shemarveled at that little round spot of pain which was burning at herheart, or why she should wish that Guy would not speak of her in hisletter to Lucy Atherstone. 

But Guy did speak of her, frankly confessing the interest he felt inher, telling just how people were beginning to talk, and asking Lucyif she cared, declaring that if she did, he would not see Maddy Clydeany more than was necessary. In a little less than four weeks therecame an answer from Lucy, who, with health somewhat improved, hadreturned to England, and wrote to Guy from Brighton, where sheexpected to spend the summer, half hoping Guy might join her there, though she could not urge it, as mamma still insisted that she was notable to take upon herself the duties of a wife. Then she spoke ofMaddy Clyde, saying "She was not one bit jealous of her dear Guy, Ofcourse ignorant, meddling people, of whom she feared there were agreat 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 herpicture, as she had a curiosity to know just how she looked, and ifMaddy pleased, "would she write a few lines, so as not to seem so mucha stranger?"

Lucy Atherstone had been educated to think a great deal of birth, andblood, and family, and Guy never did a wiser thing than when he toldher that according to English views, Maddy was a lady. It went fartoward reconciling Lucy to his interest in one whom her haughtier andmore sanguine mother called a rival, advising her mother to ignore heraltogether. But Lucy's was a different nature, and though it cost herpride a pang, she asked for a line from Maddy, partly to mortify thatpride, and partly to prove to Guy how free she was from jealousy. 

"Darling little Lucy, I do love her very dearly, " was Guy's comment, as he finished reading her letter, feeling somewhat as if her motherwere 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 thoughthow much easier of access New York was than Brighton, he said, halfpetulantly:

"I've been to England for nothing times enough. When that mother ofhers says I may have Lucy, I'll go again, but not before. It don'tpay. "

And crushing the letter into his pocket, he went out upon the piazzawhere were assembled Maddy, Jessie and Mrs. Agnes, the latter of whomhad come to Aikenside the day before. 

At first she had objected to the boarding-school arrangement, sayingJessie was too young, but Guy as usual had overruled her objections, as he had those of Grandpa Markham, and it was now a settled thingthat Maddy and Jessie both should go to New York, Mrs. Agnes toaccompany them if she chose, and having a general supervision of herchild. This was Guy's plan, the one which had prevailed with thefashionable woman, who, tired of Boston, was well pleased with theprospect of a life in New York. Guy's interest in Maddy was whollyinexplicable to her, unless she explained it on the principal that inthe Remington nature there was a fondness for governesses, as had beenexemplified in her own history. That Guy would ever marry Maddy shedoubted, but the mere possibility of it made her set her teeth firmlytogether as she thought how embarrassing it would be to acknowledge asthe mistress of Aikenside the little girl whom she had sought tobanish from her table. Since her return she had had no opportunity ofjudging for herself how matters stood, and was consequently muchrelieved when, as Guy joined them, he began at once to speak of Lucy, telling of the letter, and her request for Maddy's picture. 

"Me? Mine? You cannot mean that?" Maddy exclaimed, her eyes openingwide with wonder, but Guy did mean it, and began to plan a drive onthe morrow to Devonshire, where there was at that time a tolerablyfair artist. 

Accordingly the next day the four went down to Devonshire, callingfirst upon the doctor, whose face brightened when he heard why theyhad come. During the weeks that had passed, the doctor had not beenblind to at that was passing at Aikenside, and the fear that Guy wasmore interested in Maddy than he ought to be, had grown almost to acertainty. Now, however, he was not so sure. Indeed, the fact that Guyhad told her of Lucy Atherstone would indicate that his suspicionswere groundless, and he entered heartily into the picture plan, sayinglaughingly that if he supposed Miss Lucy would like his face he'd sithimself, and bidding Guy be sure to ask her. The doctor's gay spiritshelped raise those of Maddy, and as that little burning spot in herheart was fast wearing away, she was in just the mood for a mostadmirable likeness. Indeed, the artist's delight at his achievementwas unbounded, as he declared it the very best picture he had evertaken. It was beautiful, even Agnes acknowledged to herself, whileJessie wait into raptures, and Maddy blushed to hear her own praises. Guy said nothing, except to ask that Maddy should sit again; this wasgood, but a second might be better. So Maddy sat again, succeedingquite as well as at first, but as the artist's preference was for theformer, it was left to be finished up, with the understanding that Guywould call for it. As the ladies passed down the stairs, Guy lingeredbehind, 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 intothe street, where Agues was waiting for him. Two hours later, Guy, inMrs. Conner's parlor, was exhibiting the finished picture, which inits handsome casing, was more beautiful than ever, and more natural, if possible. 

"I think I might have one of Maddy's, " Jessie said, half poutingly;then, as she remembered the second sitting, she begged of Guy to getit for her, "that was a dear brother. "

But the "dear brother" did not seem inclined to comply with herrequest, putting her off, until, despairing of success, Jessie, whenalone with the doctor, tried her powers of persuasion on him, coaxinguntil in self-defense he crossed the street, and entering thedaguerrean 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 adissertation on the style and beauty of the young girl, all of whichwas 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. Youknow they rub out those they do not use. So you'll have to do without;and, Jessie, I wouldn't tell Guy I tried to get it for you. "

Jessie wondered why she must not tell Guy, but the fact that thedoctor requested her not was sufficient. Consequently Guy littleguessed that the doctor knew what it was he carried so carefully inhis coat pocket, looking at it earnestly when at home and alone in hisown room, admiring its soft, girlish beauty, half shrinking from thelifelike expression of the large, bright eyes, and trying to convincehimself that his sole object in getting it was to give it to thedoctor after Maddy was gone! It would be such a surprise, and thedoctor would be so glad, that Guy finally made himself believe that hehad done a most generous thing!

"I am going to send Lucy your picture to-day, and as she asked thatyou should write her a few lines, suppose you do it now, " Guy said toMaddy next morning, as they were leaving the breakfast table. 

It was a sore trial to Maddy to write to Lucy Atherstone, but sheoffered no remonstrance, and so accompanying the picture was a littlenote, filled mostly with praises of Mr. Guy, and which would be verygratifying to the unsuspecting Lucy. 

Now that it was fully decided for Jessie to go with Maddy, her lessonswere suspended, and Aikenside for the time being was turned into avast dressmaking and millinery establishment. With his usualgenerosity, Guy had given Agnes permission to draw upon his purse forwhatever was needed, either for herself or Jessie, with the definiteunderstanding that Maddy should have an equal share of dress andattention. 

"It will not be necessary, " he said, "for you to enlighten thecitizens of New York with regard to Maddy's position. She goes thereas Jessie's equal, and as such her wardrobe must be suitable. "

No one could live long with Maddy Clyde without becoming interested inher, and in spite of herself Agnes' dislike was wearing away, particularly as of late she had seen no signs of special attention onthe doctor's part. He had gotten over his weakness, she thought, andso was very gracious toward Maddy, who, naturally forgiving, began tolike her better than she had ever dreamed it possible for her to likeso proud and haughty a woman. Down at the cottage in Honedale therewere many consultations held and many fears expressed by the agedcouple as to what would be the result of all Guy was doing for theirchild. Womanlike, Grandma Markham felt a flutter of pride in thinkingthat Maddy was going to school in a big city like New York. It gaveher something to talk about with her less fortunate neighbors, whowondered, and gossiped, and envied, but could not bring themselves tofeel unkindly toward the girl Maddy, who had grown up in their midst, and who as yet was wholly unchanged by prosperity. Grandpa Markham, onthe contrary, though pleased that Maddy should have every opportunityfor acquiring the education she so much desired, was fearful of theresult--fearful that there might come a time when his darling wouldshrink from the relations to whom she was as sunshine to the flowers. He knew that the difference between Aikenside and the cottage muststrike her unpleasantly every time she came home, and he did not blameher for her always apparent readiness to go back. That was natural, hethought, but a life in New York, that great city which to the simple-hearted old man seemed a very Babylon of iniquity, was different, andfor a time he demurred to sending her there. But Guy persuaded him, and when he heard that Agnes was going, too, he consented, for he hadfaith in Agnes as a protector. Maddy had never told him of the scenewhich followed that lady's return from Saratoga. Indeed, Maddy nevertold anything but good of Aikenside or its inmates, and so Mrs. Agnescame in for a share of the old people's gratitude, while even UncleJoseph, hearing daily a prayer for the "young madam, " as grandpatermed her, learned to pray for her himself, coupling her name withthat of Sarah, and asking in his crazy way that God would "forgiveSarah" first, and then "bless the madam--the madam--the madam. "

A few days before Maddy's departure, grandpa went up to see "themadam;" anxious to know something more than hearsay about a person towhose care his child was to be partially intrusted. Agnes was in herroom when told who wanted to see her. Starting quickly, she turned sodeadly 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 passthe ordeal she so much dreaded, and from which there was no possibleescape. 

Thirteen years! Had they changed her past recognition? She hoped, shebelieved so, and yet, never in her life had Agnes Remington's heartbeaten with so much terror and apprehension as when she entered thereception room where Guy sat talking with the infirm old man sheremembered so well. He had grown older, thinner, poorer looking, thanwhen she saw him last, but in his wrinkled face there was the samebenignant, heavenly expression which, when she was better than she wasnow, used to remind her of the angels. His snowy hair was parted justthe same as ever, but the mild blue eye was dimmer, and it rested onher with no suspicious glance as, partially reassured, she glidedacross the threshold, and bowed civilly when Guy presented her. 

A little anxious as to how her grandfather would acquit herself, Maddysat by, wondering why Agnes appeared so ill at ease, and why hergrandsire started sometimes at the sound of her voice, and lookedearnestly at her. 

"We've never met before to my knowledge, young woman, " he said once toAgnes, "but you are mighty like somebody, and your voice when you talklow 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. Numerouswere the charges he gave to Agnes concerning Maddy, bidding her bewatchful of his child, and see that she did not "get too much drinkedin with the wicked things on Broadway!" then, as he arose to go, helaid his trembling hand on her head and said solemnly: "You are youngyet, 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'venothing to give you nor Mr. Guy for your goodness only my prayers, andthem you have every day. We all pray for you, lady, Joseph and all, though I doubt me he knows much the meaning of what he says. " "Who, sir? What did you say?" and Agnes' face was scarlet, as grandpareplied: "Joseph, our unfortunate boy; Maddy must have told you, theone who's taken such a shine to Jessie. He's crazy-like, and from thecorner where he sits so much, I can hear him whispering by the hour, sometimes of folks he used to know, and then of you, who we callmadam. He says for ten minutes on the stretch: "God bless the madam--the madam--the madam!" You're sick, lady; talkin' about crazy folksmakes you faint, " grandpa added, hastily, as Agnes turned white, likethe dress she wore. "No--oh, no, I'm better now, " Agnes gasped, bowinghim to the door with a feeling that she could not breathe a momentlonger in his presence. He did not hear her faint cry of bitter, bitter remorse, as he walked through the hall, nor know she watchedhim as he went slowly down the walk, stopping often to admire the fairblossoms which Maddy did not feel at liberty to pick. "He lovedflowers, " Agnes whispered, as her better nature prevailed over everyother feeling, and, starting eagerly forward, she ran after the oldman, who, surprised at her evident haste, waited a little anxiouslyfor her to speak. It was rather difficult to do so with Maddy'sinquiring eyes upon her, but Agnes managed at last to say: "Does thatcrazy man like flowers--the one who prays for the madam?" "Yes, heused to years ago, " grandpa replied; and, bending down, Agnes began topick and arrange into a most tasteful bouquet the blossoms and buds ofMay, growing so profusely within the borders. 

"Take them to him, will you?" and her hand shook as she passed toGrandpa Markham the gift which would thrill poor crazy Joseph with astrange delight, making him hold converse a while with the unseenpresence which he called "she, " and then whisper blessings on themadam's head. Three days after this, a party of four left Aikenside, which presented a most forlorn and cheerless appearance to thepassers-by, who were glad almost as the servants when, at theexpiration of a week, Guy came back and took up his olden life ofsolitude and loneliness, with nothing in particular to interest him, except his books the letters he wrote to Lucy; unless, indeed, it werethose he was going to write to Maddy, who, with Jessie, had promisedto become his correspondents. Nothing but these and the picture--thedoctor's picture--the one designed expressly for him, and whichtroubled him greatly. Believing that he had fully intended it for thedoctor, Guy felt as if it were, in a measure, stolen property, andthis made him prize it all the more. 

Now that Maddy was away, Guy missed her terribly, wondering how he hadever lived without her, and sometimes working himself into a violentpassion against the meddlesome neighbors who would not let her remainwith him in peace, and who, now that she was gone, did not stop theirtalking one whit. Of this last, however, he was ignorant, as there wasno one to tell him how people marveled more than ever, feelingconfident now that he was educating his own wife, and making sundryhateful remarks as to what he intended doing with her relations. Guyonly 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 hisgreatest comfort was in looking at the bright young face which seemedto smile so trustfully upon him from the tiny casing, just as Maddyhad smiled upon him when, in Madam -----'s parlor, he bade her good-by. The doctor could not have that picture, he finally decided. Halought to be satisfied with getting Maddy, as of course he would, forwasn't he educating her for that very purpose? Certainly he was, and, as a kind of atonement for what he deemed treachery to his friend, hetalked with him often of her, always taking it for granted that whenshe was old enough, the doctor would woo and win the little girl whohad come to him in his capacity of inspector, as candidate number one. 

At first, the doctor suspected him of acting a part in order to coverup some design of his own with regard to Maddy, and affected anindifference he did not feel; but, as time passed on, Guy, who reallybelieved himself sincere, managed to make the doctor believe so, too. Consequently, the latter abandoned his suspicions, and gave himself upto blissful dreams of what might possibly be when Maddy should havebecome the brilliant woman she was sure one day to be. Alas! for thedoctor's dreams. 

CHAPTER XV. 

THE HOLIDAYS. 

The summer vacation had been spent by the Remington's and Maddy at theseaside, the latter coming to the cottage for a week before returningto her school in New York, and as the doctor was then absent fromhome, she did not meet him at all. Consequently he had not seen hersince she left Aikenside for New York. But she was at home now for theChristmas holidays--was down at the cottage, too; and unusuallynervous for him, the doctor stood before the little square glass inhis back office, trying to make himself look as well as possible, forhe was going that very afternoon to call upon Miss Clyde. He was gladshe was not at Aikenside; he would rather meet her where Guy was not, and he hoped he might be fortunate enough to find her alone. 

The doctor was seriously in love. He acknowledged that now to himself, confessing, too, that with his love was mingled a spice of jealousy, lest Guy Remington should be expending more thought on Maddy Clydethan was consistent with the promised husband of Lucy Atherstone. Hewished so much to talk with Guy about her, and yet he dreaded it; forif the talk should confirm his suspicious there would be no hope forhim. No girl in her right mind would prefer him to Guy Remington, andwith 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 mostdashing equipage, the silver-tipped harness of his high-mettled steedflashing in the wintry sunlight, and the bright-hued lining of hisfanciful robes presenting a very gay appearance. 

Guy was in the best of spirits. For an entire half day he had tried todevise some means to getting Maddy up to Aikenside. It was quite toobad for her to spend the whole vacation at the cottage, as she seemedlikely to do. He knew she was lonely there; that the bare floor andlow, dark walls affected her unpleasantly. He had seen that in herface when he bade her good-by, for he had carried her down to thecottage himself, and now he was going after her. There was to be aparty at Aikenside; the very first since Guy was its master. Theneighbors had said he was too proud to invite them, but they shouldsay so no more. The house was to be thrown open in honor of Guy'stwenty-sixth birthday, and all who were at all desirable as guestswere to be bidden to the festival. First on the list was the doctor, who, remembering how averse Guy was to large parties, wondered at theproceedings. But Guy was all engaged in the matter, and after tellingwho were to be invited, added rather indifferently: "I'm going nowdown to Honedale after Maddy. It's better for her to be with us a dayor two beforehand. You've seen her, of course. "

No, the doctor had not; he was just going there, he said, in a tone sofull of sad disappointment, that Guy detected it at once, and asked ifanything was the matter. 

"Guy, " the doctor continued, sitting down by his friend, "I rememberonce your making me your confidant about Lucy. You remember it, too?"

"Yes, why? well?" Guy replied, beginning to feel strangelyuncomfortable as he half divined what was coming next. 

Latterly Guy had stopped telling the doctor that he was educatingMaddy for him. Indeed, he did not talk of her at all, and the doctormight have fancied her out of his mind but for the frequent visits toNew York, which Guy found it absolutely necessary to make. Guy did nothimself understand the state of his own feelings with regard to Maddy, but if compelled to explain them they would have been something asfollows: He fully expected to marry Lucy Atherstone; the possibilitythat he should not had never occurred to him, but that was no reasonwhy Maddy Clyde need be married for these many years. She was veryyoung yet; there was time enough for her to think of marrying when shewas twenty-five, and in the meanwhile it would be splendid to have herat Aikenside as Lucy's and his friend. Nothing could be nicer, and Guydid not care to have this little arrangement spoiled. But that thedoctor had an idea of spoiling it, he had not a doubt, particularlyafter the doctor's next remark. 

"I have not seen Maddy since last spring, you know. Is she very muchimproved?"

"Yes, very much. There is no more stylish-looking girl to be seen onBroadway than Maddy Clyde, " and Guy shook down his pantaloons a littleawkwardly. 

"Well, is she as handsome as she used to be, and as childish in hermanner?" the doctor asked; and Guy replied:

"I took her to the opera once, last month, and the many admiringglances cast at our box proved pretty positively that Maddy's beautywas not of the ordinary kind. "

"The opera!" the doctor exclaimed; "Maddy Clyde at the opera! Whatwould her grandfather say? He is very puritanical, you know. "

"Yes, I know; and so is Maddy, too. She wrote and obtained his consentbefore she'd go with me. He won't let her go to a theatre anyhow. "

Here an interval of silence ensued, and then the doctor began again, "Guy, you told me once you were educating Maddy Clyde for me, and Itried then to make you think I didn't care; but I did, oh, so much. Guy, laugh at me, if you please. I cannot blame you if you do; but thefact is, I believe I've loved Maddy Clyde ever since that time she wasso sick. At all events, I love her now, and I was going down therethis very afternoon to tell her so. She's old enough. She was sixteenlast October, the--the----"

"Tenth day, " Guy responded, thus showing that he, too, was keepingMaddy's age, even to a day. 

"Yes, the tenth day, " resumed the doctor. "There's 'most eleven years'difference between us, but if she feels at all as I do, she will notcare, Guy;" and the doctor began to talk earnestly: "I'll be candidwith you, and say that you have sometimes made my heart ache alittle. "

"Me!" and Guy's face was crimson, while the doctor continued:

"Yes, and I beg your pardon for it; but let me ask you one question, and upon its answer will depend my future course with regard to Maddy:You are true to Lucy?"

Guy felt the blood trickling at the roots of his hair, but he answeredtruthfully as he believed:

"Yes, true as steel;" while the generous thought came over him that hewould further the doctor's plans all he possibly could. 

"Then I am satisfied, " the doctor rejoined; "and as you have ratherassumed the position of her guardian or brother, I ask your permissionto offer her the love which whether she accepts it or not, is hers. "

Guy had never felt a sharper pang than that which now thrilled throughevery nerve, but he would not prove false to the friend confiding inhim, and he answered calmly:

"You have my consent; but, Doc, better put it off till you see her atAikenside. There's no chance at the cottage, with those three oldpeople. I wonder she don't go wild. I'm sure I should. "

Guy was growing rather savage about something, but the doctor did notmind; and grasping his arm as he arose, he said:

"And you'll manage it for me, Guy? You know how. I don't. You'llcontrive for me to see her alone, and maybe say a word beforehand inmy favor. "

"Yes, yes, I'll manage it. I'll fix it right. Don't forget, day afterto-morrow night. The Cutlers' will be there, and, by the way, Marciahas got to be a splendid girl. She fancied you once, you know. OldCutler is worth half a million. " And Guy tore himself away from thedoctor, who, now that the ice was broken, would like to have talked ofMaddy forever. 

But Guy was not thus inclined, and in a mood not extremely amiable, hethrew himself into his sleigh and went dashing down toward Honedale. For some unaccountable reason he was not now one bit interested in theparty, and, were it not that a few of the invitations were issued, hewould have been tempted to give it up. Guy did not know what ailedhim. He only felt as if somebody had been meddling with his plans, andhad he been in the habit of swearing, he would probably have sworn;but as he was not, he contented himself with driving like a secondJehu he reached Honedale, where a pair of soft, brown eyes smiled upinto his face, and a little, fat, warm hand was clasped in his, asMaddy came even to the gate to meet him. 

She was very glad to see him. The cottage with its humble adorningsdid seem lonely, almost dreary, after the life and bustle of New York, and Maddy had cried more than once to think how hard and wicked shemust be growing when her home had ceased to be the dear old home sheonce loved so well. She had been there five days now, andnotwithstanding the efforts of her grandparents to entertain her, eachday had seemed a week in its duration. Neither the doctor nor Guy hadbeen near her, and capricious little Maddy had made herself believethat the former was sadly remiss in his duty, inasmuch as he had notseen her for so long. He had been in the habit of calling every week, her grandmother said, and this did not tend to increase heramiability. Why didn't he come now when he knew she was at home?Didn't he want to see her? Well, she could be indifferent, too, andwhen they did meet, she'd show how little she cared!

Maddy was getting to be a woman with womanly freaks, as the readerwill readily see. At Guy she was not particularly piqued. She did nottake his attentions, as a matter of course; still she thought more ofhim, if possible, than of the doctor, during those five days, sayingto herself each morning: "He'll surely come to-day, " and to herselfeach night: "He will be here to-morrow. " She had something to show himat last--a letter from Lucy Atherstone, who had gradually come to beher regular correspondent, and whom Maddy had learned to love with allthe intensity of her girlhood. To her ardent imagination LucyAtherstone was but a little lower than the angels, and the pure, sweetthoughts contained in every letter were doing almost as much towardmolding her character as Grandpa Markham's prayers and constantteachings. Maddy did not know it, but it was these letters from Lucywhich kept her from loving Guy Remington. She could not for a momentassociate him with herself when she so constantly thought of him asthe husband of another, and that other Lucy Atherstone. Not for worldswould Maddy have wronged the gentle creature who wrote to her soconfidingly of Guy, envying her in that she could so often see hisface and hear his voice, while his betrothed was separated from him bymany thousand miles. Little by little it had come out that Lucy'smother was averse to the match, that she had in her mind the case ofan English lord, who would make her daughter "My Lady;" and this wasthe secret of her deferring so long her daughter's marriage. In herlast letter to Maddy, however, Lucy had written with more than herusual spirit that she would come in possession of her property on hertwenty-fifth birthday. She should then feel at liberty to act forherself, and she launched out into joyful anticipations of the timewhen she should come to Aikenside and meet her dear Maddy Clyde. Feeling that Guy, if he did not already know it, would be glad to hearit, Maddy had all the morning been wishing he would come; and when shesaw him at the gate she ran out to meet him, her eyes and facesparkling with eager joy as she suffered him to retain her hand whileshe said: "I am so glad to see you, Mr. Remington. I almost thoughtyou had forgotten me at Aikenside, Jessie and all. "

Guy began to exclaim against any one's forgetting her, and also toexpress his pleasure at finding her so glad to see him, when Maddyinterrupted 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 Lucylast night. When she is twenty-five she will be her own mistress, youknow, 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 dearGuy's patience long enough, and as soon as I can I shall marry him. 'Isn't it nice?" and returning the letter to its hiding place, Maddyscooped up in her hand and ate a quantity of the snow beside the path. 

"Yes, it was very nice, " Guy admitted, but there was a shadow on hisbrow as he followed Maddy into the cottage, where the lunatic, who hadbeen watching them from the window, shook his head doubtfully andsaid, "Too young, too young for you, young man. You can't have ourSunshine if you want her. "

"Hush, Uncle Joseph, " Maddy whispered, softly, taking his arm andlaying it around her neck. "Mr. Remington don't want me. He is engagedto a beautiful English girl across the sea. "

Low as Maddy's words were, Guy heard them, as well as the crazy man'sreply, "Engagements have been broken. "

That was the first time the possibility had ever entered Guy's brainthat his engagement might be broken, provided he wished it, which hedid not, he said to himself positively. Lucy loved him, he loved Lucy, and that was enough, so in a kind of abstracted manner arising fromthe fact that he was calculating how long it would be before Lucy wastwenty-five, he began to talk with Maddy, asking how she had spent hertime, 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 todefer his call until you were at Aikenside. I have come to take youback with me, as we are to have a party day after to-morrow evening, and I wish you to be present. "

A party, a big party, such as Maddy had never in her life attended!How her eyes sparkled from mere anticipation as she looked appealinglyto her grandfather, who, though classing parties with the pomps andvanities from which he would shield his child, still remembered thathe 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 peoplethat in every festive scene there was a pitfall, strewn over sothickly with roses that it was ofttimes hard to tell just where itsboundary line commenced. Besides that, grandpa had faith in Guy, andso his consent was granted, and Maddy was soon on her way toAikenside, which presented a gayer, busier appearance than she hadever known before. Jessie was wild with delight, dragging forth atonce the pink dress which she was to wear, and whispering to Maddythat Guy had bought a dark blue silk for her, and that Sarah Jones wasat that moment fashioning it after a dress left there by Maddy theprevious summer. 

"Mother said plain white muslin was more appropriate for a young girl, but Brother Guy said no; fee blue would be useful after the party; itwas what you needed, and so he bought it and paid a dollar and three-quarters a yard, but it's a secret until you are called to try it on. Isn't Guy splendid?"

He was indeed splendid, Maddy thought, wondering why he was so kind toher, and if it would be so when Lucy came. The dress fitted admirably, only Maddy thought grandpa would say it was too low in the neck, butSarah overruled her objections, assisted by Guy, who, when the dresswas completed and tried on for the last time, was called in by Jessieto see if "Maddy's neck didn't look just like cheese curd, " and if"she shouldn't have a piece sewed on as she suggested. " The neck was_au fait_, Guy said, laughing as Maddy for blushing so, andsaying when he saw how really distressed she seemed that he wouldprovide her with something to relieve the bareness of which shecomplained. "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 keepthe result of her peeking to herself. 

And for once Jessie succeeded in doing so, although she several timesset Maddy to guessing what it was Guy had for her in a box! As thesize of the box was not mentioned, Maddy had fully made up her mind toa shawl or scarf, and was proportionately disappointed when, as shewas dressing for the party, there was sent up to her room a smallround box, scarcely large enough to hold an apple, much less a smallscarf. The present proved to be a pair of plain but heavy bracelets, and a most exquisitely wrought chain of gold, to which was appended abeautiful pearl cross, the whole accompanied with the words, "FromGuy. " Jessie was in ecstasies again. Clasping the ornaments on Maddy'sneck and arms, she danced around her, declaring there never wasanything more beautiful, or anybody as pretty as Maddy was in her richparty dress. Maddy was fond of jewelry--as what young girl is not?--and felt a flush of gratified pride, or vanity, or satisfaction, whichever one chooses to call it, as she glanced at herself in themirror and remembered the time when, riding with the doctor, she hadmet Mrs. Agnes, with golden bracelets flashing on her arms, and wishedshe might one day wear something like them. The day had come soonerthan she then anticipated, but Maddy was not as happy in possession ofthe coveted ornaments as she had thought she should be. Somehow, itseemed to her that Guy ought not to have given them to her, that itwas improper for her to keep them, and that both Mrs. Noah and Agnesthought so, too. She wished she knew exactly what was right, and then, remembering that Guy had said the doctor was expected early, shedecided to ask his opinion on the subject and abide by it. 

At first Agnes had cared but little about the party, affecting todespise the people in their immediate neighborhood; but when Guy gaveher permission to invite from the adjoining towns, and even fromWorcester if she liked, her spirits arose; and when her toilet wascompleted, she shone resplendent in lace and diamonds and curls, managing to retain through all a certain simplicity of dressappropriate to the hostess. But beautiful as Agnes was, she felt inher jealous heart that there was about Maddy Clyde an attraction shedid not possess. Guy saw it, too, and while complimenting his prettymother-in-law, kept his eyes fixed admiringly on Maddy, who startedhim into certain unpleasant remembrances by asking if the doctor hadcome yet. 

"No--yes--there he was now, " and Guy looked into the hall, where thedoctor's voice was heard inquiring for him. 

"I want to see him a minute, alone, please. There's something I wantto ask him. " And, unmindful of Agnes' darkening frown, or Guy's lookof wonder, Maddy darted from the room, and ran hastily down the hallto where the doctor stood, waiting for Guy, not for her. 

He had not expected to meet her thus, or to see her thus, and thesight of her, grown so tall, so womanly, so stylish and so beautiful, almost took his breath away. And yet, as he stood with her soft handin his, and surveyed her from head to foot, he felt that he wouldrather have had her as she was when a dainty frill shaded her pale, wasted face, when the snowy ruffle was fastened high about her throat, and the cotton bands were buttoned about her wrists, where gold onesnow were shining. The doctor had never forgotten Maddy as she wasthen, the very embodiment, he thought, of helpless purity. The littlesick girl, so dear to him then, was growing away from him now; andthese adornings, which marked the budding woman, seemed to remove herfrom him and place her nearer to Guy, whose bride should wear silk andjewels, just as Maddy did. 

She was very glad to see him, she said, asking in the same breath whyhe had not been to the cottage, if she had not grown tall, and if hethought her one bit improved with living in a city?

"One question at a time, if you please, " he said, drawing her a littlemore into the shadow of the door where they would be less observed byany one passing through. 

Maddy did not wait for him to answer, so eager was she to unburden hermind and know if she ought to keep the costly presents, at which sheknew 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 theperplexity and asked his opinion. 

"It would displease Mr. Guy very much if I were to give them back, "she said: "but it hardly is right for me to accept them, is it?"

The doctor did not say she ought not to wear the ornaments, though helonged to tear them from her arms and neck and throw them anywhere, hecared not where, so they freed her wholly from Guy. 

They were very becoming, he said. She would not look as well withoutthem; so she had better wear them to-night, and to-morrow, if shewould grant him an interview, he would talk with her further. 

Dissembling doctor! He said all this to gain the desired interviewwith Maddy, the interview for which Guy was to prepare her. That hehad 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 privacylong enough, and glancing rather curiously at Maddy's face. There wasnothing in its expression to disturb him, and, offering her his arm, he led her back to the drawing-rooms where Agnes was smoothing downthe folds of her dress, preparatory to receiving the guests justdescending the stairs. It was a brilliant scene which Aikensidepresented that night, and amid it all Agnes bore herself like a queen, while Jessie, with her sunny face and golden hair, came in for a fullshare of attention. But amid the gay throng there was none so fair orso beautiful as Maddy, who deported herself with as much ease andgrace as if she had all her life long been accustomed to just suchoccasions as this. At a distance the doctor watched her, tellingseveral who she was, and once resenting by both look and manner aremark 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 toeducate out of charity. 

"He seems very fond of his charity pupil, upon my word. He scarcelyleaves her neighborhood at all, " whispered old Mrs. Cutler, the motherof Maria, who, Guy said, once fancied Dr. Holbrook, and who had noparticular objections to fancying him now, provided it could bereciprocal. 

But the doctor was only intent on Maddy, knowing always just where shewas standing, just who was talking to her; and just how far from herGuy 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 hearher. 

"But I do; I wish it, " Guy replied in that tone which people generallyobeyed; and casting a half-frightened look at the sea of faces aroundher, Maddy suffered him to lead her to the piano, sitting quite stillwhile he found what he wished her to play. 

It was his favorite song, and one which brought out Maddy's voice inits various modulations. 

"Oh, please, Mr. Remington, anything but a song. I cannot sing, " Maddywhispered pleadingly; but Guy answered resolutely, "You can. "

There was no appeal after this, but a resigned, obedient look, whichmade the doctor gnash his teeth as he leaned upon the instrument. Whatright had Guy to command Maddy Clyde, and why should she obey? andyet, as the doctor glanced at Guy, he felt that were he in Maddy'splace, he should do the same. 

"No girl can resist Guy Remington, " he thought. "I'm glad there's aLucy Atherstone over the sea. " And with a smile of encouragement forMaddy, who was pale with nervous timidity, he listened while hersweet, birdlike voice trembled for a moment with fear; and then, gaining from its own sound, filled the room with melody, and madethose who had wandered off to other parts of the building hasten backto see who was singing. 

Maria Cutler had presided at the piano earlier in the evening, as hadone or two other young ladies, but to none of these had Guy paid halfthe attention he did to Maddy, staying constantly by her, holding herfan, turning the leaves of music, and dictating what she should play. 

"There's devotion, " tittered a miss in long ringlets; "but she reallydoes 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 meanto ask her, " and going up to Guy she said, "I wish to speak to--to--well, Jessie's governess. Introduce me, please. "

Guy waited till Maddy was through, and then gave the desiredintroduction. In a tone not wholly free from superciliousness, MissCutler said:

"Can you play a waltz or polka, Miss Clyde? We are aching to exerciseour feet. "

Maddy bowed and struck into a spirited waltz, which set many of thepeople present to whirling in circles, and produced the result whichMaria so much desired, viz: it drove Guy away from the piano, for hecould not mistake her evident wish to have him as a partner, and withhis arm around her waist he was soon moving rapidly from that part ofthe room, leaving only the doctor to watch Maddy's fingers as theyflew over the keys. Maddy never thought of being tired. She enjoyedthe excitement, and was glad she could do something towardentertaining 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 thelittle figure in blue sitting so patiently at the piano until he knewshe must be tired, and determined to release her. As it chanced, Mariawas again his partner, and drawing her nearer to Maddy, he said, "Yourfingers ache by this time, I am sure. It is wrong to trouble youlonger. Agnes will take your place while you try a quadrille with me. "

"Oh, thank you, " Maddy answered. "I am not tired in the least. I hadas lief play till morning, provided they are satisfied with my timeand my stock of music holds out. "

"But it is not fair for one to do all the playing; besides, I want youto dance with me--so consider yourself invited in due form to be mynext partner. "

Maddy's face crimsoned for an instant, and then in a low voice shesaid, "I thank you, but I must decline. "

"Maddy!" Guy exclaimed, in tones more indicative of reproach thanexpostulation. 

There were tears in Maddy's eyes, and Maria Cutler, watching her, wasvexed to see how beautiful was the expression of her face as sheanswered frankly, "I have never told you that grandpa objected to mytaking dancing lessons when I wrote to him about it. He does not likeme to dance. "

"A saint!" Maria uttered under her breath, smiling contemptuously asshe made a movement to leave the piano, hoping Guy would follow her. 

But he did not at once. Standing for a moment irresolute, while helooked curiously at Maddy, he said at last:

"Of course I interfere with no one's scruples of that kind, but Icannot allow you to wear yourself out for our amusement. "

"I like to play--please let me, " was Maddy's reply; and, as the setupon the floor were waiting for her, she turned to the instrument, while Guy mechanically offered his arm to Maria, and sauntered towardthe green room. 

"What a blue old ignoramus that grandfather must be, to object todancing, don't you think so?"

Maria laughed a little spitefully, secretly glad that Maddy hadrefused, 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 asign that something is lacking in brains or education, when a personsets up that dancing is wicked?"

Guy would have taken Maddy's side then, whatever he might havethought, and he replied:

"No lack of brains, certainly; though education and circumstances havemuch to do with one's views upon that subject. For my part, I like tosee people consistent. Now, that old ignoramus, as you call him, laysgreat stress on pomp and vanities, and when I asked him once what hemeant by them, he mentioned dancing in particular as one of the thingswhich you, church people, promise to renounce;" and Guy bowed towardMaria, who, knowing that she was one of the church people referred to, winced perceptibly. 

"But this girl--this Maddy. There's no reason why she should decline, "she said; and Guy replied: "Respect for her grandfather, in her case, seems to be stronger than respect for a higher power in some othercases. "

"It's just as wicked to play for dancing as 'tis to dance, " Mariaremarked impatiently, while Guy rejoined:

"That is very possible; but I presume Maddy has never seen it in thatlight, which makes a difference;" and the two retraced their steps tothe rooms where the gay revelers were still tripping to Maddy'sstirring music. 

After several ineffectual efforts Agnes had succeeded in enticing thedoctor away from the piano, and thus there was no one near to see howat last the bright color began to fade from her cheeks as the notesbefore her ran together, and the keys assumed the form of one huge keywhich Maddy could not manage. There was a blur before her eyes, abuzzing in her ears, and just as the dancers were entering heart andsoul into the merits of a popular polka, there was a sudden pause inthe music, a crash among the keys, and a faint cry, which to thosenearest to her sounded very much like "Mr. Guy, " as Maddy fell forwardwith her face upon the piano. It was hard telling which carried herfrom the room, the doctor or Guy, or which face of the three was thewhitest. Guy's was the most frightened, for the doctor knew she hadonly fainted, while Guy, struck with the marble rigidity of the faceso recently flushed with excitement, said at first, "She's dead, "while over him there flashed a feeling that life with Maddy dead wouldbe desolate indeed. But Maddy was not dead, and Guy, when he went backto his guests carried the news that she had recovered from her faint, which she kindly ascribed to the heat of the rooms, instead of fatiguefrom playing so long. The doctor was with her and she was doing aswell as could be expected, he said, thinking within himself how hewished they would go home, and wondering what attraction there wasthere, now that Maddy's place was vacant. Guy was a vastly miserableman by the time the last guest had bidden him good-night, and he hadheard for the hundred-and-fiftieth time what a delightful evening ithad been. Politeness required that he should look to the very last aspleasant and unconcerned as if upstairs there were no little sickgirl, all alone undoubtedly with Dr. Holbrook, whom he mentally styleda "lucky dog, " in that he was not obliged to appear again in theparlors unless he chose. 

The doctor knew Maddy did not require his presence after the firsthalf hour, but he insisted upon her being sent to bed, and then wentfrequently to her door until assured by Mrs. Noah that she wassleeping soundly, and would, if let alone, be well as ever on themorrow, a prediction which proved true, for when at a late hour nextmorning the family met at the breakfast table, Maddy's was thebrightest, freshest face of the whole, not even excepting Jessie's. Maddy, too, was delighted with the party, declaring that nothing butpleasurable excitement and heat had made her faint, and then with allthe interest which young girls usually attach to fainting fits, sheasked how she looked, how she acted, if she didn't appear veryridiculous, and how she got out of the room, saying the only thing sheremembered after falling was a sensation as if she were being torn intwo. 

"That's it, " cried Jessie, who readily volunteered the desiredinformation, "Brother Guy was 'way off with Maria Cutler, and doctorwas with mamma, but both ran, oh, so fast, and both tried to take youup. I think Miss Cutler real hateful, for she said, so meanlike, 'Doyou see them pull her, as if 'twas of the slightest consequence whichcarried her out?'"

"Jessie, " Guy interposed sternly, while the doctor lookeddisapprovingly at the little girl, who subsided into silence aftersaying, in an undertone, "I do think she's hateful, and that isn't allshe 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 Guyindulged in his cigar, while the doctor fidgeted for a time, and thenbroke out abruptly:

"I say, Guy, have you said anything to her about--well, about me, youknow?"

"Why, no, I've hardly had a chance; and then, again, I concluded itbetter for each one to speak for himself;" and carelessly knocking theashes from his half-smoked cigar, Guy leaned back in his chair, withhis eyes, and, to all appearance, thoughts, wholly intent upon thecurls of smoke rising above his head. 

"Guy, if you were not engaged, I should be tempted to think you wantedMaddy Clyde yourself, " the doctor suddenly exclaimed, confronting Guy, who, still watching the rings of smoke, answered with the mostprovoking coolness, "You should?"

"Yes, I should; and I am not certain but you do as it is, Guy, " andthe doctor grew very earnest in his manner, "if you do care for MaddyClyde, and she for you, pray tell me so before I make a fool ofmyself. "

"Doctor, " returned Guy, throwing the remains of his cigar into thegrate 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 Iever met--except Lucy. Had I never seen her--Lucy, I mean--I cannottell how I should feel toward Maddy. The chances are, however, thatmuch as I admire her, I should not make her my wife, even if she werewilling. But I have seen Lucy. I am engaged to be married. I shallkeep that engagement, and if you have feared me at all as a rival, youmay fear me no longer. I do not stand between you and Maddy Clyde. "

Guy believed that he was saying the truth, notwithstanding that hisheart beat faster than its wont and his voice was a little thick. Itwas doubtful whether he would marry Maddy Clyde, if he could. Bynature and education he was very proud, and the inmates of the redcottage would have been an obstacle to be surmounted by his pride. Heknew they were good, far, far better than himself; but, from hisearliest remembrance, he had been taught that blood and family andposition were all-important; that by virtue of them Remington was aname of which to be proud; that his father's foolish marriage with apretty governess was the first misalliance ever known in the family, and that he was not likely to follow that example was a point fullyestablished in his own mind. He might admire Maddy very much, and, perhaps, build castles of what might possibly have been, had she beenin his sphere of life; but, should he verily think of making her hiswife, the olden pride would certainly come up a barrier between them. Guy could not explain all this to the doctor, who would have beentempted to knock him down, if he had; but he succeeded in quieting hisfears, and even suggested bringing Maddy in there, if the doctorwished to know his fate that morning. 

"I hear her now--I'll call her, " he said; and, opening the door, hespoke to Maddy, just passing through the hall. "Dr. Holbrook wishes tosee you, " he said, as Maddy came up to him; and, holding the door forher to enter, he saw her take the seat he had just vacated. Then, closing it upon them, he walked away, thinking that last night'sparty, or something, had produced a bad effect on him, making him blueand wretched, just as he should suppose a criminal would feel whenabout to be executed. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

THE DOCTOR AND MADDY. 

Now that they were alone, the doctor's courage forsook him, and hecould only stammer out some commonplace remarks about the party, asking how Maddy Lad enjoyed it, and if she was sure she had entirelyrecovered from the effects of her fainting fit. He was not getting onat all, and it was impossible for him to say anything as he had meantto say it. Why couldn't she help him, instead of looking sounsuspiciously at him with those large, bright eyes? Didn't she knowhow dear she was to him? He should think she might. She might havedivined it ere this; and if so, why didn't she blush, or something?

At last she came to his aid by saying, "You promised to tell me aboutthe bracelets and necklace, whether I ought to keep them. "

"Yes, oh yes, he believed he did. " And getting up from his chair, thedoctor began to walk the floor, the better to hide his confusion. "Yes, the bracelets. You looked very pretty in them, Maddy, very; butyou are always pretty--ahem--yes. If you were engaged to Guy, I shouldsay it was proper; but if not, why, I don't know; the fact is, Maddy, I am not quite certain what I am saying, so you must excuse me. Ialmost hated you that day you sent the note, telling me you werecoming to be examined; but I had not seen you then. I did not knowhow, 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 theslightest idea what I mean. " And stopping suddenly, he confronted theastonished Maddy, who replied:

"Not the slightest, unless you are going crazy. "

She could in no other way account for his strange conduct, and she satstaring at him while he continued: "I told you once that when I wantedmy bill I'd let you know. I'd ask for pay. I want it now. I present mybill. "

With a scared, miserable feeling, Maddy listened to him, wonderingwhere she should get the money, if it were possible for hergrandfather 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 waituntil she was graduated and could earn it by teaching. Nothing couldbe more inopportune than for him to present it now; and with ahalf-stifled sob she began to speak, but he her by a gesture, and sitting down beside her, said, in a voice more natural than the one with which he had at first addressed her:

"Maddy, I know you have no money. It is not that I want, Maddy; Iwant--I want--you. "

He bent down over her now, for her face was hidden in her hands, allsense of sight shut out, all sense of hearing, too, save the words hewas pouring into her ear--words which burned their way into her heart, making It throb for a single moment with gratified pride, and thengrowing heavy as lead as she knew how impossible it was for her to paythe 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 littlegirl--only sixteen last October--but I'm so sorry for you, who havebeen so kind. If I only could love you as you deserve! I do love you, too; but not the way you mean. I cannot be Maddy Holbrook; no; doctor, I cannot. "

She was sobbing piteously, and in his concern for her the doctorforgot somewhat the stunning blow he had received. 

"Don't, Maddy darling!" he said, drawing her trembling form closely tohim, "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 oldas I am. "

The doctor did not know why he said this, unless in the first keennessof his disappointment there was a satisfaction in telling her that theobjection to his age would apply also to Guy. But it did not affectMaddy one whit, or give her the slightest inkling of his meaning. Hesaw it did not, and the pain was less to bear. Still, he would knowcertainly if he had a rival, and so he said to her:

"Do you love some one else, Maddy? Is another preferred before me, andis that the reason why you cannot love me?"

"No, " Maddy answered, through her tears. "There is no one else. Whomshould I love, unless it were you? I know nobody but Guy. "

That name touched a sore, aching chord in the doctor's heart, but hegave no sign of the jealousy which had troubled him, and for a momentthere was silence in the room; then, as the doctor began faintly torealize that Maddy had refused him, there awoke within him a moreintense desire to win her than he had ever felt before. He would notgive her up without another effort, and laying her unresisting headupon his bosom, he pleaded again for her love, going over all thepast, and telling of the interest awakened when first she came to himthat April afternoon, almost two years ago; then of the little sickgirl who had grown so into the heart never before affected in theleast by womankind, and lastly of the beautiful woman, as he calledher, sitting beside him now in all the freshness of her youngwomanhood. And Maddy, as she listened, felt for him a strange kind ofpity, a wish to do his bidding if she only could, and why shouldn'tshe? Girls had married those whom they did not love, and beentolerably happy with them, too. Perhaps she could be so with thedoctor. There was everything about him to respect, and much which shecould love. Should she try? There was a great lump in Maddy's throatas 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 thetime there was something at my heart tugging to answer no?"

This was not at all what Maddy meant to say, but the words were bornof her extreme truthfulness, and the doctor thus learned the nature ofthe struggle which he saw plainly was going on. 

"No, Maddy, I would not have you say yes unless your heart was in it, "he answered, while he tried to smile upon the tearful face looking upso sorrowfully at him. 

But the smile was a forlorn one, and there came instead a tear as hethought how dear was the fair creature who never would be his. Maddysaw the tear, and as if she were a child wiped it from his cheek;then, in tones which never faltered, she told him it might be in timeshe'd learn to love him. She would try so hard, she'd think of himalways as her promised husband, and by that means should learn at lastnot to shrink from taking him for such. It might be ever so long, andperhaps she should be twenty or more, but some time in the future sheshould feel differently. Was he satisfied, and would he wait?

Her little hand was resting on his shoulder, but he did not mind itssoft pressure or know that it was there, so strong was the temptationto accept that half-made promise. But the doctor was too noble, tounselfish to bind Maddy to himself unless she were wholly willing, andhe said to her that if she did not love him now she probably neverwould. She could not make a love. She need not try, as it would onlyresult in her own unhappiness. They would be friends just as theyalways had been, and none need know of what had passed between them, none but Guy. "I must tell him" the doctor said, "because he knowsthat I was going to ask you. "

Maddy could not explain why it was that she felt glad the doctor wouldtell Guy. She did not analyze any of her feelings, or stop to ask whyshe should care to have Guy Remington know the answer she had givenDr. Holbrook. He was going to him now, she was sure, for he arose toleave her, saying he might not see her again before she returned toNew York. She did not mention his bill. That was among the bygones, athing never again to be talked about, and offering him her hand, shelooked for an instant earnestly into his face, then without a word, hurried from the room, while the doctor, with a sad, heavy heart, wentin quest of Guy. 

"Refused you, did you say?" and Guy's face certainly looked brighterthan it had before since he left the doctor with Maddy Clyde. 

"Yes, refused me, as I might have known she would, " was the doctor'sreply, spoken so naturally that Guy looked up quickly to see if hereally 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 mewell enough to be my wife, that was all, " the doctor said, and then hetried to talk of something else; but it would not do. The wound wasyet too fresh and sore to be covered up, and in spite of himself thebearded chin quivered and the manly voice shook as he bade good-by toGuy, and then went galloping down the avenue. 

Great was the consternation among the doctor's patients when it wasknown that their pet physician--the one in whose skill they had somuch confidence--was going to Europe, where in Paris he could perfecthimself in his profession. Some cried, and among them Agnes; some saidhe knew enough already; some tried to dissuade him from his purpose;some wondered at the sudden start, while only two knew exactly why hewas going--Guy and Maddy; the former approving his decision andlending his influence to make his tour abroad as pleasant as possible;and the latter weeping bitterly as she thought how she had sent himaway, and that if aught befell him on the sea or in that distant land, she would be held amenable. Once there came over her the wild impulseto bid him stay, to say that she would be his wife; but, ere the rashact was done, Guy came down to the cottage, and Maddy's resolutiongave way at once. 

It would be difficult to tell the exact nature of Maddy's liking forGuy at that time. Had he offered himself to her she would probablyhave refused him even more promptly than she did the doctor; for, toall intents and purposes, he was, in her estimation, the husband ofLucy Atherstone. As such, there was no harm in making him her paragonof all male excellence; and Guy would have felt flattered, could hehave known how much he was in that young girl's thoughts. But now fora few days he had a rival, for Maddy's thoughts were all given to thedoctor, who came down to see her once before starting for Europe. Shedid not cry while he was there, but her voice was strange and hoarseas she gave him messages for Lucy Atherstone; and all that day herface was white and sad, as are the faces of those who come back fromburying 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 andthe necklace, telling him she ought not to wear them; that ornamentsas rich as these were not for her; that her grandmother did not wishher to keep them, and he must take them back. Guy saw she was inearnest, and much against his will he received again the ornaments hehad been so happy in purchasing. 

"They would do for Jessie when she was older, " Maddy said; but Guythought it very doubtful whether Jessie would ever have them. Theywere something he had bought for Maddy, something she had worn, and assuch they were too sacred to be given to another. So he laid them awaybeside the picture guarded so carefully from every one. 

Two weeks afterward Aikenside presented again a desolate, shut-upappearance, 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 onMadison Square; and Maddy to her books, which ere long obliterated, ina measure, the bitter memory of all that had transpired during herwinter vacation. 

CHAPTER XVIL

WOMANHOOD. 

Two years pass quickly, particularly at school, and to Maddy Clyde, talking with her companions of the coming holidays, it seemed hardlypossible that two whole years were gone since the eventful vacationwhen Dr. Holbrook had so startled her by offering her his hand. He wasin Europe still, and another name than his was on the little office inMrs. Conner's yard. To Maddy he now wrote frequently; friendly, familiar letters, such as a brother might write, never referring tothe past, but telling her whatever he thought would interest andplease her. Occasionally at first, and more frequently afterward, hespoke of Margaret Atherstone, Lucy's younger sister, a brilliant, beautiful girl who reminded him, he said, of Maddy, only she wassaucier, and more of a tease; not at all like Lucy, whom he describedas something perfectly angelic. Her twenty-fifth birthday found her ona sickbed, with Dr. Holbrook in attendance, and this was the reasongiven why the marriage between herself and Guy was again deferred. There had been many weeks of pain, succeeded by long, weary months oflanguor, and during all this time the doctor had been with her as thefamily physician, while Margaret also had been constantly inattendance. But Lucy was much better now. She could sit up all day, and even walk a little distance, assisted by the doctor and Margaret, whose name had become to be almost as familiar to Maddy as was that ofLucy. And Maddy, in thinking of Margaret, sometimes wondered "if----"but never went any farther than that. Neither did she ask Guy a wordabout her, though she knew he must have seen her. She not say much tohim of Lucy, but she wondered why he did not go for her, and wanted totalk with him about it but he was so changed that she dared not. Hewas not sociable, as of old, and Agnes did not hesitate to call himcross, while Jessie complained that he never walked or played with hernow, but sat all day long in a deep reverie of some kind. 

On this account Maddy did not look forward to the coming vacation asjoyfully as she would otherwise have done. Still it was, alwayspleasant going home, and she sat talking with her young friends of allthey expected to do, when a servant entered the room and glancing overthe group of girls, singled Maddy out saying, as he placed an unsealedenvelope in her hand. "A telegram for Miss Clyde. "

There was a blur before Maddy's eyes, so that at first she could notsee clearly, and Jessie, climbing on the bench beside her, read aloud:

"Your grandmother is dying. Come at once. Agnes and Jessie will staytill next week. 

 "Guy Remington"

It was impossible to go that afternoon but with the earliest dawn shewas up, and unmindful of the snow falling so rapidly, started on thesad journey home. It was the first genuine storm of the season, and itseemed resolved on making amends for past neglect, sweeping in furiousgusts against the windows sifting down in thick masses from the leadensky, and so impeding the progress of the train that the chill winterynight 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 littlehope would be there on such a night. If not, what should she do? Thishad been the burden of her thoughts for the last few hours, for shecould 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 voicewhich 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 kindit was of you to wait for me!" she exclaimed, her voice expressing herdelight, and amply repaying the young man, who had not been verypatient 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, andpressing it very gently he led her into the ladies' room; then makingher sit down before the fire he brushed her snowy garments himself, and dashing a few flakes from her disordered hair, told her what sheso eagerly asked to know. Her grandmother had had a paralytic stroke, and the only word she had uttered since was "Maddy. " Guy had not beendown himself, but had sent Mrs. Noah as soon as Farmer Green hadbrought the news. She was there yet, he said, the storm havingprevented her return. 

"And grandma?" Maddy gasped, fixing her eyes wistfully upon him. "Youdo not think her dead?"

No, Guy did not, and stooping he asked if he should not remove fromthe dainty little feet resting on the stove hearth the overshoes, sofull of melting snow. Maddy cared little for her shoes, or herselfjust then. She hardly knew that Guy was taking them off, much lessthat, as he bent beside her, her hand lay lightly upon his shoulder asshe continued her questionings. 

"She is not dead, you say; but do you think-does any-body think she'lldie? Your telegram said 'dying. '"

Maddy was not to be deceived, and thinking it best to be frank withher, Guy told her that the physician, whom he had taken pains to seeon his way to the depot, had said there was no hope. Old age and animpaired constitution precluded the possibility of recovery, but hetrusted she might live till the young lady came. 

"She must--she will! Oh, grandma, why did I ever leave her?" andburying her face in her hands. Maddy cried passionately, while thelast three years of her Life passed in rapid review before hermind--years which she had spent in luxurious ease, leaving her grandmother to toil in the humble cottage, and die at the last, itmight be, without one parting word for her. 

The feeling that perhaps she had been guilty of neglect, was thebitterest of all, and Maddy wept on, unmindful of Guy's attempts tosoothe and quiet her. At last, as she heard a clock in the adjoiningroom strike eight, she started up exclaiming "I have stayed too long. I must go now. Is there any conveyance here?"

"But, Maddy, " Guy rejoined, "you cannot go to-night. The roads betweenhere and Honedale are one unbroken snow bank. It would take hours tobreak through; besides you are too tired. You need rest, and must comewith me to Aikenside, where you are expected, for when I found howlate the train would be, I sent back word to have your room andparlors warmed, and a nice hot supper to be ready for us. You'llsurely go with me, if I think best. "

Guy's manner was more like a lover than a friend, but Maddy was in nostate to remark it. She only felt an intense desire to go home, andturning a deaf ear to all he could urge, replied: "You don't know howdear grandma is to me, or you would not ask me to stay. She's all themother I ever knew, and I must go. Think, would you stay if the oneyou 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 ifthere 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'veborne 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, " andMaddy was going in quest of the Aikenside coachman, when Guy held herback, 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'seyes at that moment, the man was not Guy Remington, and leaving heralone, he sought out John, asking if it would be possible to getthrough to Homedale that night. 

John shook his head decidedly, but when Guy explained Maddy's distressand anxiety, the negro began to relent, particularly as he saw hisyoung master, too, was interested. 

"It'll kill them horses, " he said, "but mabby that's nothin' to pleasethe girl. "

"If we only had runners now, instead of wheels, John, " Guy said, aftera moment's reflection. "Drive back to Aikenside as fast as possible, and change the carriage for a covered sleigh. Leave the grays at homeand drive a pair of farm horses. They can endure more. Tell Flora tosend my traveling shawl. Miss Clyde may need it, and an extra buffalo, and a bottle of wine, and my buckskin gloves, and take Tom on withyou, and a snow shovel; we may have to dig. "

"Yes, yes, I know, " and tying his muffler about his throat, Johnstarted off through the storm, his mind a confused medley of ideas, the main points of which were, bottles of wine, snow shovels, and thefact that his master was either crazy or in love. 

Meanwhile, with the prospect of going home, Maddy had grown quiet, anddid not refuse the temporary supper of buttered toast, muffins, steakand hot coffee, which Guy ordered from the small hotel just in therear of the depot. Tired, nervous, and almost helpless, she allowedGuy himself to prepare her coffee, taking it from his hand anddrinking it at his bidding as obediently as a child. There was afeeling of delicious rest in being cared for thus, and but for thedying one at Honedale she would have enjoyed it vastly. As it was, though, she never for a moment forgot her grandmother. She did forget, in a measure, her anxiety, and was able to think how kind, howexceedingly kind Guy was. He was like what he used to be, she thought, only kinder, and thinking it was because she was in trouble, sheaccepted all his little attentions willingly, feeling how pleasant itwas to have him there, and thinking once with a half shudder of thelong, cold ride before her, when Guy would no longer be present, andalso of the dreary home where death might possibly be a guest ere shecould reach it. 

It was after nine ere John appeared, his crisp wool powdered with snowwhich clung to his outer garments, and literally covered his dark, cloth cap. 

"'Twas mighty deep, " he said, bowing to Maddy, "and the wind wasgetting colder. 'Twas a hard time Miss Clyde would have, and hadn'tshe better wait?"

No, Maddy could not wait, and standing up she suffered Guy to wrap hercloak about her, and fasten more securely the long, warm scarf shewore around her neck. 

"Drive close to the platform, " he said to John, and the covered sleighwas soon brought to the point designated. "Now then, Maddy, I won'tlet you run the risk of covering your feet with snow. I shall carryyou myself, " Guy said, and ere Maddy was fully aware of hisintentions, 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 aswell as he could from the cold; then pulling his own fur collar abouthis 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 youare not going too? You must not. It is asking too much. It is morethan 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 yourgoing. 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 fancybuffalo robe. 

The roads, though badly drifted in some places, were not as bad as Guyhad feared, and the strong horses kept steadily on; while Maddy, growing more and more fatigued, at last fell away to sleep, and ceasedto answer Guy, For a time he watched her drooping head, and thencarefully drawing it to him, made it rest upon his shoulder, while hewound his arm around her slight figure, and so supported her. He knewshe was sleeping quietly, by her gentle breathings; and once or twicehe involuntarily passed his hand caressingly over her soft, roundcheek, feeling the blood tingle to his finger tips as he thought ofhis position there, with Maddy Clyde sleeping in his arms. What wouldLucy say, could she see him? And the doctor, with his strict ideas ofright and wrong, would he object? Guy did not know, and, with hisusual independence, he did not care. At least, he said to himself hedid not care; and so, banishing both the doctor and Lucy from hismind, he abandoned himself to the happiness of the moment--a singularland of happiness, inasmuch as it merely consisted in the fact thatMaddy Clyde's young head was pillowed on his bosom, and that, bybending down, he could feel her sweet breath on his face. Occasionallythere flitted across Guy's mind a vague, uneasy consciousness thatthough the act was, under the circumstances, well enough, the feelingswhich prompted it were not such as either the doctor or Lucy wouldapprove. But they were far away; they would never know unless he toldthem, as he probably should, of this ride on that wintry night; thisride, which seemed to him so short that he scarcely believed hissenses when, without once having been overturned or called upon to usethe shovels so thoughtfully provided, the carriage suddenly came to ahalt, and he knew by the dim light shining through the low window thatthe red cottage was reached. 

Grandma Markham was dying, but she knew Maddy, and the palsied lipsworked painfully as they attempted to utter the loved name; while herwasted face lighted up with eager joy as Maddy's arms were twinedabout her neck, and she felt Maddy's kisses on her cheek and brow. Could she not speak? Would she never speak again, Maddy askeddespairingly, and her grandfather replied: "Never, most likely. Theonly thing she's said since the shock was to call your name; She'smissed 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 waslearning so fast. " "Oh, grandpa, why didn't you? I would have come sowillingly, " and for an instant Maddy's eyes flashed reproachfully uponthe recreant Guy, standing aloof from the little group gathered aboutthe 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 ofthe future--Maddy's future, when the aged form upon the bed should begone, and the two comparatively helpless men be left alone. 

"But it shall not be. The sacrifice is far too great. I can preventit, and I will, " he muttered to himself, as he turned to watch thegray dawn breaking in the east. Guy was a puzzle to himself. He wouldnot admit that during the past year his liking for Maddy Clyde hadgrown to be something stronger than mere friendship, nor yet that hisfeelings toward Lucy had undergone a change, prompting him not to goto her when she was sick, and not to be as sorry as he ought that themarriage was again deferred. Lucy had no suspicion of the change andher childlike trust in him was the anchor which held him still true toher in intentions at least, if not in reality. He knew from herletters how much she had learned to like Maddy Clyde, and so, heargued, there was no harm in his liking her too. She was a splendidgirl, and it seemed a pity that her lot should have been so humblycast. This was usually the drift of his thoughts in connection withher; and now, as he stood there its that cottage, Maddy's home, theyrecurred to him with tenfold intensity, for well he foresaw that astruggle was before him if he rescued Maddy as he meant to do from herapproaching fate. 

No such thoughts, however, intruded themselves on Maddy's mind. Shedid not look away from the present, except it were at the past, inwhich she feared she had erred by leaving her grandmother too muchalone. But to her passionate appeals for forgiveness, if she ever hadneglected the dying one, there came back only loving looks and mutecaresses, the aged hand smoothing lovingly the bowed head, or pressingfondly the girlish cheeks where Guy's hand had been. With the comingof daylight, however, there was a change; and Maddy, listeningintently, heard what sounded like her name. The tied tongue was loosedfor a little, and in tones scarcely articulate, the disciple who forlong years had served her Heavenly Father faithfully, bore testimonyto the blessed truth that God's promises to those who love Him are notmere promises--that He will go with them through the river of death, disarming the fainting soul of every fear, and making the dying bedthe very gate of heaven. This tribute to the Savior was her firstthought, while the second was a blessing for her darling, a charge toseek the narrow way now in life's early morning. Disjointed sentencesthey were, but Maddy understood them all, treasuring up every wordeven to the last, the words the farther apart and most painfullyuttered, "You--will--care--and--comfort----" She did not say whom, butMaddy knew whom she meant; and without then realizing the magnitude ofthe act, virtually accepted the burden from which Guy was so anxiousto save her. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE BURDEN. 

Grandma Markham was dead, and the covered sleigh, which late in theafternoon plowed its way heavily back to Aikenside, carried only Mrs. Noah, who, with her forehead tied up in knots, sat back among thecushions, thinking not of the peaceful dead, gone forever to the restwhich remains for the people of God, but of the wayward Guy, who hadresisted all her efforts to persuade him to return with her, insteadof staying where he was, not needed, and where his presence was arestraint to all save one, and that one Maddy, for whose sake hestayed. 

"She'd be vummed, " the indignant old lady said, "if she would notwrite to Lucy herself if Guy did not quit such doin's, " and thusresolving she kept on her way, while the subject of her wrath was, itmay be, more than half repenting of his decision to stay, inasmuch ashe began to have an unpleasant consciousness of himself being ineverybody'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 grandfatherand Uncle Joseph, she sat, holding the poor aching head of the latterin 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 hewas 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 forwardto the time when he would be gone; and when at last he told her he wasgoing, she started quickly, and with a gush of tears, exclaimed: "No, no! oh, no!"

"Maddy, " Guy whispered, bending over the strange trio, "would yourather 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'sterrible to have grandmother dead!" was Maddy's response; after whichGuy would have stayed if a whole regiment of Mrs. Noah's hadconfronted him instead of one. 

Maddy wished it; that was reason enough for him; and giving a fewdirections to John, he stayed, thereby disconcerting the neighboringwomen who came in to perform the last offices for the dead, and whowished the young man from Aikenside was anywhere but there, watchingthem in all their movements, as they vainly fancied he did. But Guythought only of Maddy, watching her so carefully that more than onemeaning glance was exchanged between the women, who, even over theinanimate form of the dead, spoke together of what might possiblyoccur, wondering what would be the effect on Grandpa Markham and UncleJoseph. Who would take care of them? And then, in case Maddy shouldfeel it her duty to stay there, as they half hoped she would, theyfell to pitying the young girl, who seemed now so wholly unfitted forthe burden. 

To Maddy there came no definite idea of the future during the two daysthat white, rigid form lay in the darkened cottage; but when, at last, the deep grave made for Grandma Markham was occupied, and the loungein the little front room was empty--when the Aikenside carriage, whichhad been sent down for the use of the mourners, had been driven away, taking both Guy and Mrs. Noah--when the neighbors, too, had gone, leaving only herself and the little hired girl sitting by the eveningfire, with the grandfather and the imbecile Uncle Joseph--then it wasthat she first began to fed the pressure of the burden--began to askherself if she could live thus always, or at least for many years--aslong 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, brighterfar than a life of laborious toil, and for a while the idea that thelatter alternative must be accepted made her dizzy and faint. 

As if divining her thoughts, poor old grandpa, in his prayers thatnight, asked in trembling tones, which showed how much he felt what hewas saying, that God would guide his darling in all she did, and giveher wisdom to make the proper decision; that if it were best she mightbe 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 thegray head remained bowed down upon his chair, while Uncle Joseph, inhis peculiar way, took up the theme, begging like a very child thatMaddy might be inclined to stay--that no young men with curling hair, a diamond cross, and smell of musk, might be permitted to come nearher with enticing looks, but that she might stay as she was and die anold maid forever! This was the subject of Uncle Joseph's prayer, aprayer which set the little hired girl to tittering, and would havewrung a smile from Maddy herself had she not felt all the strangepetition implied. 

With waywardness natural to people in his condition, Uncle Joseph thatnight turned to Maddy for the little services his sister had formerlyrendered, and which, since her illness, Grandpa Markham had done, andwould willingly do still. But Joseph refused to let him. Maddy mustuntie his cravat, unbutton his vest, and take off his shoes, while, after he was in bed, Maddy must sit by his side, holding his handuntil he fell away to sleep. And Maddy did it cheerfully, soothing himinto quiet, and keeping back her own choking sorrow for the sake ofcomforting him. Then, when this task was done she sought hergrandfather, still sitting before the kitchen fire and evidentlywaiting for her. The little hired girl had retired, and thus there wasno barrier to free conversation between them. 

"Maddy, " the old man said, "come sit close by me, where I can lookinto your face, while we talk over what must be done. "

With a half shudder, Maddy drew a stool to her grandfather's feet, andresting her head upon his knee, listened while he talked to her of thefuture; told her all her grandmother had done; told of his ownhelplessness; of the trial it was to care for Uncle Joseph, and thenin faltering tones asked who was going to look after them now. "Wecan't live here alone, Maddy. We can't. We're old and weak, and wantsome one to lean on. Oh, why didn't God take us with her, Joseph andme, and that would leave you free, to go back to the school and thelife 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 thoughI don't see you every minute, you are somewhere, and by and by you'llcome in. I shan't live long, and maybe Joseph won't. God's promise isto them who honor father and mother. It'll be hard for you to stay, harder than it was once; but, Maddy, oh, Maddy! stay with me, staywith 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 madeno response. She had no intention of leaving him, but the burden waspressing heavily and her tongue refused to move. Maddy was then astranger to the religion which was sustaining her grandfather in hisgreat trouble, but the teachings of her childhood had not been invain. She was God's covenant child. His protecting presence was overand around her, moving her to the right. New York, with its gaysights, her school, where in another year she was to graduate, thetrip to the Catskills which Guy had promised Mrs. Agnes, Jessie andherself, Aikenside with its luxurious ease--all these must be givenup, while, worse than all the rest, Guy, too, must be given up. Hewould not come there often; the place was not to his taste, and intime he would cease to care for her as he cared for her now. "Oh, thatwould be dreadful!" she groaned aloud, while here thoughts wentbackward to that night ride in the snowstorm, and the numberlessattentions he had paid her then. She would never ride with himagain--never; and Maddy moaned bitterly, as she began to realizefor the first time how much she liked Guy Remington, and how thegiving him up and his society was the hardest part of all. But Maddyhad a brave young heart, and at last, winding her arms around her grandfather's neck, she whispered: "I will not leave you, grandpa. I'll stay in grandmother's place. "

Surely Heaven would answer the blessings whispered over Maddy by thedelighted old man, and the young girl taking so cheerfully the burdenfrom which many would have shrunk, should be blessed by God. 

With her grandfather's hand upon her head, Maddy could almost feelthat the blessing was descending; but when, in her own room, the onewhere she had lain sick for so many weary weeks, her courage began togive way, and the burden, magnified tenfold by her nervous weakness, looked heavier than she could bear. How could she stay there, goingthrough each day with the same routine of literal drudgery--drudgerywhich would not end until the two for whom she made the sacrifice weredead. 

"Oh, is there no way of escape, no help?" she moaned, as she tossedfrom side to side, "Must my life be wasted here. Surely---"

Maddy did not finish the sentence, for something checked the words ofrepining, and she seemed to hear again her grandfather's voice as itrepeated the promise to those who keep with their whole souls thefifth commandment. 

"I will, I will, " she cried, while into her heart there crept anintense longing for the love of him who alone could make her task alight one. "If I were good like grandma, I could bear everything, " shethought, and turning upon her pillow, Maddy prayed an earnest, childlike prayer, that God would help her do night, that He would takefrom her the proud spirit which rebelled against her lot because ofits loneliness, that pride and love of her own ease and advancement inpreference to others' good might all be subdued; in short that shemight be God's child, walking where He appointed her to walk without amurmur, and doing cheerfully His will. 

Aikenside, and school, and the Catskill Mountains were easier toabandon after that contrite prayer; but when she thought of Guy, thefiercest, sharpest pang she had ever felt shot through her heart, making her cry out so quickly that the little hired girl who sharedher bed moved as if about to waken, but Maddy lay very quiet until allwas 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 notsay the words, and ere she knew what she was doing she found herselfasking that Guy should not forsake her. "Let him come, " she sobbed, "let Guy come some time to see me". 

Once the tempter whispered to her, that had she accepted Dr. Holbrookshe would have been spared all this, but Maddy turned a deaf ear tothat suggestion. Dr. Holbrook was too noble a man to have an unlovingwife, and not for a moment did she repent of her decision with regardto him. She almost knew he would say now that she was right inrefusing him, and right in staying there, as she must. Thoughts of thedoctor quieted her, she believed, not knowing that Heaven was alreadyowning its submissive child, and breathing upon it a soothingbenediction. The moan of the winter wind and the sound of the snowbeating against her little window ceased to annoy her. Heaven, happiness, Aikenside and Guy, all seem blended into one great goodjust within her reach, and when the long clock below the stairs struckthree, she did not hear it, but with the tear stains upon her face shelay nestled among her pillows, dreaming that her grandmother had comeback from the bright world of glory to bless her darling child. 

It was broad noon ere Maddy awoke, and starting up she looked abouther in bewilderment, wondering where she was and what agency had beenat work in her room, transforming it from the cold, comfortlessapartment she had entered the previous night into the cheery-lookingchamber, with a warm fire blazing in the tiny fireplace, a rug spreaddown upon the hearth, a rocking-chair drawn up before it, and alltraces of the little hired girl as completely obliterated as if shehad never been. In her grief Maddy seemed to have forgotten how tomake things cozy, and as, during her grandmother's illness, her ownroom had been left to the care of the hired girl, Nettie, it wore aneglected, 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 waswondering who it could be, when the door opened cautiously and Flora'sgood-humored face looked in--Flora from Aikenside. Maddy knew now towhom she was indebted for all this comfort, and with a cry of joy shewelcomed the girl, whose very presence brought back something of thelife with which she had parted forever. 

"Flora, " she exclaimed, "how came you here, and did you make this fireand fix the room for me?"

"Yes, I made the fire, " Flora replied, "and fixed up the things alittle, hustlin' that young one's goods out of here; because it wasnot fittin' for you to be sleepin' with her. Mr. Guy was mad enoughwhen he found it out. "

"Mr. Guy, Flora? How should he know of our sleeping "rrangements?"Maddy asked, but Flora evaded a direct reply, saying, "there wasenough ways for things to get to Aikenside;" then continuing, "Howtired you must be, Miss Maddy, to sleep so sound as never to hear meat all, though to be sure I tried to be still as a mouse. But let mehelp you dress. It's all but noon, and you must be hungry. I've gotyour breakfast all ready. "

"Thank you, Flora, I can dress myself, " Maddy said, stepping out uponthe floor, and feeling that the world was not as dark as it had seemedto her when last night she came up to her chamber. 

God was comforting her already, and as she made her simple toilet, shetried to thank Him for His goodness, and ask for grace to make herwhat she ought to be. 

"You have not yet told me why you came here, " she said to Flora, whowas busy making her bed, and who replied: "It's Mr. Guy's work. Hethought I'd better come, as you would need help to get things set torights, to could go back to school. "

Maddy felt her heart coming up in her throat, but she answered calmly, "Mr. Guy is very kind--so are you all; but, Flora, I am not going backto school. " "Not going back!" and Flora stopped her bed-making, whileshe stared blankly at Maddy. "What be you going to do?" "Stay here andtake care of grandpa, " Maddy said, bathing her face and neck in thecold water, which could not cool the feverish heat she felt spreadingall over them. "Stay here! You are crazy, Miss Maddy! 'Tain't no placefor a girl like you, and Mr. Guy never will suffer it, I know, " Florarejoined, as she resumed her work, thinking she "should die to bemoped up in that nutshell of a house. " With a little sigh as sheforesaw the opposition she should probably meet with from Guy, Maddywent on with her toilet, which was soon completed, as it did not takelong to arrange the dark calico dress and plain linen collar which shewore. She was not as fresh-looking as usual that morning, forexcitement and fatigue had lent a paleness to her cheek, and a languorto her whole appearance, but Flora, who glanced anxiously after her asshe went out, muttered to herself, "She was never more beautiful, andI don't wonder an atom that Mr. Guy thinks so much of her. " Thekitchen was in perfect order, for Flora had been busy there aselsewhere. The kettle was boiling on the stove, while two or threelittle covered dishes were ranged upon the hearth, as if waiting forsome one. Grandpa Markham had gone out, but Uncle Joseph sat in hisaccustomed corner, rubbing his hands when he saw Maddy, and noddingmysteriously toward the front room, the door of which was open, sothat 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 onthe floor any more as Martha did, and I've swallowed so much that I'malmost choked. "

Continual spitting was one of Uncle Joseph's worst habits, and as hissister had indulged him in it, it had become a source of greatannoyance both to Maddy, and to some one else of whose proximity Maddydid not dream. Thinking that Uncle Joseph referred to her grandfather, and feeling glad that the latter had attempted a reform, she enteredthe room known at the cottage as the parlor, the one where the ragcarpet was, the six cane-seated chairs and the Boston rocker, andwhere now the little round table was nicely laid for two, while cozilyseated in the rocking-chair, reading last night's paper, and lookingvery handsome and happy, was Guy!

When Maddy prayed that he might come and see her she did not expect ananswer so soon, and she started back in much surprise, while Guy cameeasily forward to greet her, asking how she was, once telling her shelooked tired and thin, then making her take the chair he had vacated, he stood over her, smoothing her hair, while he continued:

"I have taken some liberties, you see, and have made myself quite athome. I knew how unaccustomed you were to the duties of a house, andas I saw that girl was wholly incompetent, I denied myself at leasttwo hours' sleep this morning for the sake of getting here early, bringing Flora with me and a few things which I thought would be foryour comfort. You must excuse me, but Flora looked so cold when shecame 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 kindledthere. I hope you found it comfortable. This house is very cold. "

He kept talking on, and Maddy in a delicious kind of bewildermentlistened to him, wondering if ever before there was a person so kindand good as Guy. And really Guy was doing great violence to his prideby being there as he was, but he could do anything for Maddy, and sohe had forced down his pride, trying for her sake to make the cottageas pleasant as possible. With Flora to assist he had succeededwonderfully, and was really enjoying it himself. At first Maddy couldnot thank him, her heart was so full, but Guy was satisfied with theexpression of her face, and calling Flora he bade her serve thebreakfast. 

"You know my habits, " he said, smilingly, as he took a seat at thetable, "and breakfasting at daylight, as I did, has given me anappetite; so, with your permission, I'll carve this nice bit of steakfor 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 theimagination could construe her "calling him a fool" into sending Maddycoffee, he added instead, "I brought it from Aikenside, together withthis strawberry jelly, of which I remember you were fond;" and hehelped Maddy lavishly from the fanciful jelly jar which yesterday wasadorning the sweetmeat closet at Aikenside. 

How chatty and social he was, trying to cheer Maddy up and make herforget that such a thing as death had so lately found entrance there;talking of Jessie, of Aikenside, of the pleasant little time theywould have during the vacation, and of the next term at school, whenMaddy, as one of the graduating class, would not be kept in asstrictly as heretofore, but allowed to see more of the city. Maddyfelt as if she should die for the pain tugging at her heart, while shelistened to him and knew that the pictures he was drawing were not forher. Her place was there; and after the breakfast was over and Florahad cleared the dishes away, she shut the door, so that they might bealone, 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 devisingmeans for her to escape what she felt to be an imperative duty. Guyhad expected something like this and was prepared, as he thought, tocombat all her arguments; so when she had finished, he replied that ofcourse he did not wish to interfere with her duty, but there might bea question as to what really was her duty, and it seemed to him he wasbetter able to judge of that than herself. It was not right for her tobury herself there while her education was unfinished, when anothercould do as well. Her superior talents were given to her to improve, and how could she improve them in Honedale; besides her grandfatherdid not expect her to stay. Guy had talked with him while she wasasleep, and the matter was all arranged; a competent woman was to behired to take charge of the domestic arrangements, and if it seemeddesirable, two should be procured; anything to leave Maddy free. 

"And grandpa consented to this willingly?" Maddy said, feeling a throbof pleasure at thoughts of release. But Guy could not answer that thegrandfather consented willingly. 

"He thinks it best. When he comes back you can ask him yourself, " hesaid, just as Uncle Joseph, opening the door, brought their interviewto a close by asking very meekly, "if it would please the LordGovernor to let him spit!"

The blood rushed at once to Maddy's face, and she not repress a smile, white Guy laughed aloud, saying to her softly: "For your sake, I triedmy skill to stop what I knew must annoy you. Pardon me if I didwrong;" then turning to Uncle Joseph, he gave the desired permission, together with the promise of a handsome spittoon, which should be sentdown on the morrow. With a bow Uncle Joseph turned away, muttering tohimself, "High doings now Martha's gone; but new lords, new laws. Itrust he's not going to live here;" and slyly he asked Flora if theLord Governor had brought his things!

At this point Grandpa Markham came in, and to him Guy appealed at onceto 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 sadlythat Maddy's arms were at once twined around the old man's neck, whileshe 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 werehere at home. Say, grandpa, which would you rather now, honor bright?"and Maddy tried to speak playfully, though her heart-beats were almostaudible as she waited for the answer. 

Grandpa could not deceive. He wanted his darling sorely, and he wantedher to be happy, he said. Perhaps they would get on just as wellwithout her. When Mr. Guy was talking it looked as if they might, hemade it all so plain, but the sight of Maddy was a comfort. She wasall he had left. Maybe he shouldn't live long to pester her, and if hedidn't wouldn't she always feel better for having stayed with her oldgrandpa to the last?

He looked very pale and thin, and his hair was white as snow. He couldnot live many years, and turning resolutely from Guy, who, so long ashe held her eye, controlled her, Maddy said:

"I've chosen once for all. I'll stay with grandpa till he dies, " andwith a convulsive sob she clung tightly to his neck, as if fearfulthat without such told on him her resolution would give way. 

It was in vain that Guy strove to change Maddy's resolution. She waswholly decided, and late in the afternoon he rode back to Aikenside, adisappointed man, with, however, the feeling that Maddy had doneright, and that he respected her all the more for withstanding thetemptation. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

LIFE AT THE COTTAGE. 

It was arranged that Flora should for the present at least remain atthe cottage, and Maddy accepted the kindness gratefully. She hadbecome so much accustomed to being cared for by Guy that she almostlooked upon it as a matter of course, and did not think of what othersmight possibly say, but when, in as delicate a manner as possible Guysuggested furnishing the cottage in better style, even proposing tomodernize it entirely in the spring, Maddy objected at once. "Theywere already indebted to him for more than they could ever pay, " shesaid, and she would not suffer it. So Guy submitted, though it gratedupon his sense of the beautiful and refined terribly, to see Maddyamid so humble surroundings. Twice a week, and sometimes oftener, herode down to Honedale, and Maddy felt that without these visits lifewould hardly have been endurable. 

During the vacation Jessie spent a part of the time with her, butAgnes resolutely resisted all Guy's entreaties that she would at leastcall once on Maddy, who had expressed a wish to see her, and who, onaccount of her grandfather's health, and the childishness with whichUncle Joseph clung to her, could not well come up to Aikenside. Agneswould not go down, neither would she give other reason for herobstinacy than the apparently foolish one that she did not wish to seethe crazy man. Still she did not object to Jessie's going as often asshe liked, and she sent by her many little delicacies from the larderat Aikenside, some for grandpa, but most for Uncle Joseph, who prizedhighly everything coming from "the madam, " and sent back to her morethan one strangely worded message which made the proud woman's eyesoverflow when sure that no one could see her. But this kind ofintercourse came to an end at last. The vacation was over, Jessie hadgone back to school, and Maddy began in sober earnest the new lifebefore her. Flora, it is true, relieved her of all household drudgery, but no one could share the burden of care and anxiety pressing soheavily upon her, anxiety for her grandfather, whose health seemedfailing so fast, and who always looked so disturbed if a shadow wereresting on her bright face, or her voice were less cheerful in itstone, and care for the imbecile Joseph, who clung to her as a punychild 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 agreat length of time. She it was who gave him his breakfast in themorning, amused him through the day, and then, after he was in bed atnight, often sat by his side till a late hour, singing to him oldsongs, or telling Bible stories until he fell away to sleep. Then ifhe awoke, as he frequently did, there was a cry for Maddy, and thesoothing process had to be repeated, until the tired, pale watcherceased to wonder that her grandmother had died so suddenly, wonderingrather that she had lived so long and borne so much. 

Those were dark, wearisome days to Maddy, and the long, cold winterwas gone from the New England hills, and the early buds of spring werecoming up by the cottage door, the neighbors began to talk of thechange which had come over the young girl, once so full of life andhealth, but now so languid and pale. Still Maddy was not unhappy, norwas the discipline too severe, for by it she learned at last the greatobject of life; learned to take her troubles and cares to One whohelped her bear them so cheerfully, that those who pitied her mostnever dreamed how heavy was her burden, so patiently and sweetly shebore it. Occasionally there came to her letters from the doctor, butlatterly they gave her less pleasure than pain, for as sure as sheread one of his kind, friendly messages of sympathy and remembrance, the tempter whispered to her that though she did not love him as sheought to love her husband, yet a life with him was far preferable tothe life she was living, and a receipt of his letters always gave hera pang which lasted until Guy came down to see her, when it usuallydisappeared. Agnes was now at Aikenside, and thus Maddy frequently hadJessie at the cottage, but Agnes never came, and Maddy little guessedhow often the proud woman cried herself to sleep after listening toJessie's recital of all Maddy had to do for the crazy man, and howpatiently she did it. He had taken a fancy that Maddy must tell himstories of Sarah, describing her as she was now, not as she used to bewhen he knew her, but now. "What is she now? How does she look? Whatdoes she wear? Tell me, tell me!" he would plead, until Maddy, forcedto tell him something, and having distinctly in her mind but onefashionable woman such as she fancied Sarah might be, told him ofAgnes Remington, describing her as she was in her mature beauty, withher heavy flowing curls, her brilliant color, her flashing diamondsand costly laces, and Uncle Joseph, listening to her with parted lipsand hushed breath, would whisper softly, "Yes, that's Sarah, beautifulSarah; but tell me--does she ever think of me, or of that time in Hieorchard when I wove the apple blossoms in her hair, where the diamondsare 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 brainis all for her, and how you, Maddy, are doing for me what it is herplace to do? Had I a voice, " and the crazy man now grew excited, as, raising himself in bed, he gesticulated wildly, "had I a voice toreach her, I'd cry shame on her, to let you do her work, let you-wearyour young life and fresh, bright beauty all away for me, whom sheruined. "

The voice he craved, or the echo of it, did reach her, for Jessie hadbeen present when the fancy first seized him to hear of Sarah, and inthe shadowy twilight she told her mother all, dwelling most upon thetouching sadness of his face when he said, "Does she know how sick andsorry I am?"

The pillow which Agnes pressed that night was wet with tears, while inher heart was planted a germ of gratitude and respect for the younggirl doing her work for her. All that she could do for Maddy withoutgoing directly to her, she did, devising many articles of comfort, sending her fruit and flowers, the last new book, or whatever else shethought might please her, and always finding a willing messenger inGuy. He was miserable, and managed when at home to make others soaround him. The sight of Maddy bearing her burden so uncomplaininglyalmost maddened him. Had she fretted or complained could bear itbetter, he said, but he did not see the necessity for her to lose allher spirit or interest in everything and everybody. Once when hehinted as much to Maddy, he had been awed into silence by the subduedexpression of her face as she told him in part what it was whichhelped her to bear and made the rough places so smooth. He had seensomething like this in Lucy, when paroxysms of pain were racking herdelicate frame, but he could not understand it; he only knew it wassomething he could not touch--something against which his argumentsbeat helplessly, and so, with an added respect for Maddy Clyde, hesmothered his impatience, and determining to help her all he could, rode down to Honedale every day, instead of twice a week, as he haddone before. 

Attentions so marked could not fail to be commented upon; and whilepoor, unsuspecting Maddy was deriving so much comfort from his dailyvisits, deeming that day very long which did not bring him to her, theHonedale gossips, of which there were many, were busy with heraffairs, talking them over at their numerous tea-drinkings, discussingthem in the streets, and finally at a quilting, where they met insolemn conclave, deciding, that, "for a girl like Maddy Clyde it didnot look well to have so much to do with that young Remington, who, everybody knew, was engaged to a somebody in England. "

"Yes, and would have been married long ago, if it wasn't for thisfoolin' with Maddy, " chimed in Mrs. Joel Spike, throwing the chalkacross the quilt to her sister, Tripheny Marvel, who wondered if Maddythought he'd ever have her. 

"Of course he wouldn't. He knew what he was about. He was not greenenough to marry Grandpa Markham's daughter; and if she didn't lookout, she'd get herself into a pretty scrape. It didn't look well, anyhow, for her to be putting on airs, as she had done ever since bigfolks took her up, and she guessed she wouldn't be beholden to nobodyfor her larnin'. "

All this and much more was discussed, and by the time the patchworkthing was done, there remained but little to be said either for oragainst Guy Remington and Maddy Clyde which had not been said byeither friend or foe. 

Among the invited guests at that quilting was the wife of FarmerGreen, Maddy's warmest friend in Honedale, and the one who did herbest to defend her against the attacks of those whose remarks she wellknew were caused more by envy than any personal dislike to Maddy, whoused to be so much of a pet until her superior advantages separatedher in a measure from them. Good Mrs. Green was sorely tried. Withoutin the least blaming Maddy, she, too, had been troubled at thefrequency of Guy's Visits to the cottage. It was not friendship alonewhich took him there, she was sure; and knowing that he was engaged, she feared for Maddy's happiness at first, and afterward, when peoplebegan 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 justleft, and this, in her opinion, accounted for the bright color inMaddy's cheek and the sparkle in her eye. Guy had been there, bringingand leaving a world of sunshine, but, alas, his chances for comingever again as he had done were fearfully small, when, at the close ofMrs. Green's well-meant visit, Maddy lay on her bed, her white, frightened face buried in the pillows, and herself half wishing shehad died before the last hour had come, with the terrible awakening ithad brought; awakening to the fact that of all living beings, GuyRemington was the one she loved the best--the one without whosepresence it seemed to her she could not live, but without which shenow knew she must. 

With the best of intentions Mrs. Green had made a bungle of the wholeaffair, but had succeeded in giving Maddy a general impression thatfolks were talking awfully about Guy's coming there, and doing for herso much like an accepted lover, when everybody knew he was engaged, and wouldn't be likely to marry a poor girl if he wasn't; that unlessshe wanted to be ruined teetotally, and lose all her friends, she mustcontrive to stop his visits, and not see him so much. 

"Yes, I'll do anything, only please leave me now, " Maddy gasped, herface as white as ashes and her eyes fixed pleadingly upon Mrs. Green, who, having been young herself, guessed the truth, and, as she aroseto go, laid her motherly hand on Maddy's head, saving kindly:

"Poor child, it's hard to bear now, but you'll get over it in time. "

"Get over it, " Maddy moaned, as she shut and bolted the door afterMrs. Green, and then threw herself upon the bed, "I never shall till Idie. "

She almost felt that she was dying then, so desolate and so dreary thefuture looked to her. What was life worth without Guy, and why had shebeen thrown so much in his way; why permitted to love him as she knewshe did, if she must lose him now? Maddy could not cry; there was atightness about her eyes, and a keen, cutting pain about her heart asshe tried to pray for strength to do what was right--strength to castGuy Remington from her heart where it was a sin for him to be; andthen she asked to be forgiven for the wrong she had unwittingly doneto Lucy Atherstone, who trusted implicitly, and who, in her lastletter, had said:

"If I had not so much faith in Guy I should be jealous of one who hasso 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 tolose Guy now, after these years of cruel waiting, would kill me. "

Sweet Lucy, there was in her heart a faint stirring of fear lestMaddy Clyde might be a shadow in her pathway, else she had neverwritten 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 sustainedby another and holier principle, which of itself would have kept herfrom the wrong. But for a few moments Maddy abandoned herself to thebliss of fancying what it would be to be loved by Guy Remington, evenas she loved him. And as she thought, there crept into her heart thecertainty that in some degree he did love her; that his friendship wasmore than a mere liking for the girl to whom he had been so kind. InLucy's absence she was essential to his happiness, and that was why hesought her society so much. Remembering everything that had passed, but more particularly the incidents of that memorable night ride toHonedale with all that had followed since, she could not doubt it, andsoftly to herself she whispered, "He loves me, he loves me, " whilelittle throbs of joy beat all over her heart; but only for an instant, and then the note of joy was changed to sorrow as she thought how shemust henceforth seek to kill that love, both for her own sake andLucy'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 seehim as she had done, and not betray her real feelings toward him. Hehad been there that day; he would come again tomorrow. She could seehim now just as he would look coming up the walk, easy and self-possessed, confident of his reception, his handsome face beaming allover with kind thoughtfulness for her, and his voice full of tenderconcern as he asked how she was, and bade Flora see that she did notovertax herself, and all this must cease. She had seen it, heard itfor the last time. No wonder that Maddy's heart fainted within her, asshe thought how desolate, how dreary would be the days when Guy nolonger came. But the victory was gained at last, and strength impartedfor the task she had to do. 

Going to the table she opened her portfolio, the gift of Guy, and withher gold pen, also his gift, wrote to him what the neighbors weresaying, and that he must come there no more; at least, only once in agreat while, because if he did, she could not see him. Then, when thiswas written, she went down to Uncle Joseph, beginning to call for her, and sat by him as usual, singing to him the songs he loved so well, and which this night pleased him especially, because the voice whichsang them was so plaintive, so full of woe. Would he never go tosleep, or the hand which held hers so firmly relax its hold? Never, itseemed to Maddy, who sat and sang, while the night-bird on a distanttree, awakened by the low song, uttered a responsive note, and thehours crept on to midnight. Human nature could endure no more, andwhen 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 tobed. "She should be better in the morning, and she would rather bealone. "

So Flora left her there, but went often to her door, until assured bythe low breathing sound that Maddy was sleeping at last. It was aheavy sleep, and when Maddy awakened from it the pain in her templeswas there still; she could not rise, and half glad that she could not, inasmuch as her illness would be a reason why she could not see Guy ifhe came. She did not know he was here already, until she heard hisvoice speaking to her grandfather. It was later than she imagined, andhe had ridden down early because he could not stay away. 

"I can't see him, Flora, " Maddy said, when the latter came up with themessage that Mr. Remington was there with his buggy, and asked if alittle ride would not do her good. "I can't see him, but give himthis, " and she placed in Flora's hand the note, baptized with so manytears and prayers, and the contents of which made Guy furious; not ather, but at the neighbors, the inquisitive, envious, ignorant, meddlesome neighbors, who had dared to talk of him, or to breathe asuspicious word against Maddy Clyde. He would see; he would make themsorry for it; they should take back every word; and they should begMaddy's forgiveness for the pain they had caused her. 

All this, and much more, Guy thought, as with Maddy's note in his handhe walked up and down the sitting-room, raging like a young lion, andthreatening vengeance upon everybody. This was not the firstintimation Guy had received of the people's gossip, for only thatmorning Mrs. Noah had hinted that his course was not at all calculatedto do Maddy any good, while Agnes had repeated to him some thingswhich she had heard touching the frequency of his visits to Honedale;but these were nothing to the calmly worded message which banished himeffectually from Maddy's presence. He knew Maddy, and he knew, shemeant what she wrote, but he could not have it so. He must see her; hewould see her; and so for the next half hour Flora was the bearer ofwritten messages to and from Maddy's room; messages of earnestentreaty on the one hand, and of firm denial on the other. At lastMaddy wrote:

"If you care for me in the least, or for my respect, leave me, and donot come again until I send for you. I am not insensible to yourkindness. I feel it all; but the world is nearer right than yousuppose. It does not look well for you to come here so much, and Iprefer that you should not. Justice to Lucy requires that you stayaway. "

That ended it! That roused up Guy's pride, and writing back:

"You shall be obeyed. Good-by. " He sprang into his buggy, and Maddy, listening, with head and heart throbbing alike, heard him as he drovefuriously away. 

Those were long, dreary days which followed, and but for hergrandfather's increasing feebleness Maddy would almost have died. Anxiety for him, however, kept her from dwelling too much uponherself, but the excitement sad the care wore upon her sadly, robbingher eye of its luster and her cheek of its remaining bloom, makingeven Mrs. Noah cry when she came one day with Jessie to see how theywere getting on. She had heard from Guy of his banishment, and nowthat he stayed away, she was ready to step in; so she came, laden withsympathy and other more substantial comforts brought from theAikenside larder. 

Maddy was glad to see her, and for a time cried softly on her bosom, while Mrs. Noah's tears kept company with hers. Not a word was said ofGuy, except when Jessie told her he was gone to Boston, and it was sostupid at home without him. 

With more than her ordinary discretion, Flora kept to herself what hadpassed when Guy was last there, so Mrs. Noah knew nothing except whathe 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 younggirl with the most motherly kindness saying all night, and herselftaking care of grandpa, who was now too ill to sit up. There seemed tobe no disease preying upon him, nothing save old age, and the loss ofone 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'sdismissal, 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, yourmother. Maybe I'll be with them before another day. I hope I may ifGod is willing, and there's much I would say to you. "

He was very pale, and the great sweat drops stood on his forehead andunder his white hair, but Maddy wiped them away and listened with abreaking heart while the aged disciple almost home told her of thepeace, the joy, that shone around his pathway to the tomb, and of theeverlasting arm bearing him so gently over Jordan. Then he talked ofherself, blessing her for all she had been to him, telling her howhappy she had made his life since she came home to stay, and how for atime he had ached so with fear lest she should choose to go back andleave him to a stranger. "But my darling stayed with her old grandpa. She'll never be sorry for it, never. I've tried you sometimes, I know, for old folks ain't like young; but I'm sorry, Maddy, and you'llforget it when I'm gone, darling Maddy, precious child;" and thetrembling hand rested caressingly on her bowed head as grandpa went onto speak of his affairs, his little property which was hers after themortgage 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 knowwhy he is so good to me. Tell him, Maddy, how I thanked and blessedhim just before I died; tell him how I used to pray for him every daythat 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 manyshades, since he stayed away. Maddy, child, the dead tell no secrets, and I shall soon be dead. Tell me, then, what it is between you two. Does my girl love Mr. Guy?"

"Oh, grandpa! grandpa!" Maddy moaned, laying her head beside his ownon 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 sightof the beloved one; of Guy, still absent from Aikenside, wanderingnobody knew where; and so Maddy told the whole story, while the dyingman listened to her, and smoothing her silken hair, tried to comforther. 

"The worst is not over yet, " he said. "Guy will offer to make you hiswife, sacrificing Lucy for you, and if he does, what will my darlingdo?"

Maddy's heart leaped up into her throat, and for a moment preventedher from answering, for the thought of Guy's really offering to makeher his wife, to shield her from evil, to enfold her in his tenderlove, made her giddy with joy. But it could not be, and she answeredthrough her tears:

"I shall tell him no. "

"God bless my Maddy! She will tell him no for Lucy's sake, and Godwill bring it right at last, " the old man whispered, his voice growingvery 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 theasylum, 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 foryears. "

"I do not know, grandpa. I hope I may do right. I think I shall keepUncle Joseph with me, " Maddy replied, a shudder creeping over her asshe thought of living out all her youth and possibly middle age with alunatic. 

But her grandfather's whispered blessings brought comfort with them, and a calm quiet fell upon her as she sat there listening to the wordsof prayer, and catching now and then her own name and that of Guy's. 

"I am drowsy, Maddy. Watch while I sleep. Perhaps I'll never wakeagain, " grandpa said, and clasping Maddy's hands he fell away tosleep, while Maddy kept her watch beside him, herself falling into atroubled sleep, from which she was aroused by a clammy hand pressingon her forehead, and Uncle Joseph's voice, which said: "Wake, mychild. There's been a guest here while you slumbered, " and he pointedto the rigid features of the newly dead. 

CHAPTER XX. 

THE BURDEN GROWS HEAVIER. 

Of the days which followed, Maddy had no distinct consciousness. Sheonly knew that other hands than hers cared for the dead, that in thelittle parlor a stiff, white figure lay, that neighboring women stolein, treading on tiptoe, and speaking in hushed voices as theyconsulted, not her, but Mrs. Noah, who had come at once, and cared forher and hers so kindly. That she lay all day in her own room, wherethe summer breeze blew softly through the window, bringing the perfumeof summer flowers, the sound of a tolling bell, of grinding wheels, the notes of a low, sad hymn, sung in faltering tones, and of manyfeet moving from the door. Then friendly faces looked in upon her, asking how she felt, and whispering ominously to each other as sheanswered:

"Very well; is grandpa getting better?"

Then Mrs. Noah sat with her for a time, fanning her with a palm-leaffan and brushing the flies away. Then Flora came up with a man whomthey called "Doctor, " and who gave his sundry little pills and powdersdissolved in water, after which they all went out and left her therewith Jessie who had been crying, and whose soft little hands felt socool on her hot head, and whose kisses on her lips made the tearsstart, and brought a thought of Guy, making her ask, "if he was at thefuneral. " She did not know whose funeral, or why she used that word, only it seemed to her that Jessie just came back from somebody'sgrave, and she asked if Guy was there. "No, " Jessie said; "motherwanted 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 nightof her last watch at her grandfather's side, until one balmy Augustafternoon, when on the Honedale hills there lay that smoky haze solike the autumn time hurrying on apace, and when through her openwindow stole the fragrance of the later summer flowers. Then, as ifwaking from an ordinary sleep, she woke suddenly to consciousness, andstaring about the room, wondered if it were as late as the western sunwould indicate, and how she came to sleep so long. For a while she laythinking, and as she thought, a sad scene came back to her, a nightwhen her hot hands had been enfolded in those of the dead, and thatdead her grandfather. Was it true, or was she laboring under somehallucination of the brain? If true, was that white, placid face stillto be seen in the room below, or had they burial him from her sight?She would know, and with a strange kind of nervous strength she arose, and throwing on the wrapper and slippers which lay near, descended thestairs, wondering to find herself so weak, and half shuddering at thedeep stillness of the house; stillness broken only by the ticking ofthe clock and the purring of the house cat, which at sight of Maddyarose from its position near the door and came forward, rubbing itssides against her dress, and trying in various ways to evince its joyat seeing one whose caresses it had missed so long. The little bedroomoff the kitchen where grandpa slept and died was vacant; the oldfashioned coat was put away, as was every vestige of the old man savethe broad-rimmed hat which hung upon the wall just where his hands hadhung it, and which looked so much like its owner that with a gush oftears Maddy sank upon the bed, moaning to herself, "Yes, grandpa isdead. I remember now. But Uncle Joseph, where is he? Can he too havedied without my knowledge? and she looked round in vain for thelunatic, not a trace of whom was to be found. His room was in perfectorder, as was everything about the house, showing that Flora was stillthe domestic goddess, while Maddy detected also various things whichshe recognized as having come from Aikenside. Who sent them? Did Guy, and had he been there too while she was sick? The thought brought athrob of joy to Maddy's heart, but it soon passed away as she beganagain to wonder if Uncle Joseph too had died, and where Flora was. Itwas not far to the Honedale burying ground. Maddy could see theheadstones from where she sat gleaming through the August sunlight;could discern her mother's, and knew that two fresh mounds at leastwere made beside it. But were there three? Was Uncle Joseph there? Bystealing across the meadow in the rear of the house the distance tothe graveyard was shortened more than half, and could not be more thanthe eighth part of a mile, She could walk so far, she knew. The freshair would do her good, and hunting up her long unused flat, theimpatient girl started, stopping once or twice to rest as a dizzyfaintness came over her, and then continuing on until the spot shesought was reached, Three graves, one old and sunken, one made whenthe last winter's snow was on the hills, the other fresh and new. Thatwas all, Uncle Joseph was not there, and vague terror entered Maddy'sheart lest he had been taken back to the asylum. 

"I will get him out, " she said; "I will take care of him. I should diewith nothing to do; and I promised grandpa----"

She could get no farther, for the rush of memories which came overher, and seating herself upon the ground close to the new grave, shelaid her face upon it, and sobbed piteously:

"Oh, grandpa. I'm so lonely without you all; I almost wish I was lyinghere in the quiet yard. "

Then a storm of tears ensued, after which Maddy grew calm, and withher head still bent low, did not hear the rapid step approaching, themans step coming down the grassy road, coming past the marbletombstones, on to where that wasted figure was crouching upon theground. There it stopped, and in a half whisper called, "Maddy!Maddy!" Then indeed she started, and lifting up her head saw beforeher Guy Remington. For a moment she regarded him intently while hesaid to her, oh so kindly, so pityingly. 

"Poor child, you have suffered so much, and I never knew of it till afew days ago. "

At the sound of that loved voice speaking thus to her, everything elsewas forgotten, and with a cry of joy Maddy stretched her hands towardhim, 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 effectit had on Guy, who forgot everything save that she wanted him, hadmissed him, had turned to him in her trouble, and it was not in hisnature to resist her appeal. With a spring he was at her side, andlifting her in his arms seated himself upon her mother's grave; thenstraining her tightly to his bosom, he kissed her again and again. Hot, burning, passionate kisses they were, which took from Maddy allpower of resistance, even had she wished it, which she did not. Tooweak to reason, or see the harm, if harm there were, in being loved byGuy, she abandoned herself for a brief interval to the bliss ofknowing that she was beloved, and of hearing him tell her so. 

"Darling Maddy, " he said, "I went away because you sent me, but now Ihave come back, and nothing shall part us again. You are mine; I claimyou here at your mother's grave. Precious Maddy, I did not know of allthis till three days ago, when Agnes' letter found me almost at theRocky Mountains. I traveled day and night, reaching Aikenside thismorning, and coming straight to Honedale. I wish I had come before, now that I know you wanted me. Say that again, Maddy. Tell me againthat you missed and wanted me. "

He was smoothing her hair now, as her bead still lay pillowed upon hisbreast, so he could not see the spasm of pain which contorted herfeatures as be thus appealed to her. Half bewildered, Maddy could notat first make out whether it were a blissful dream or a reality, herlying there in Guy's arms with his kisses on her forehead, lips andcheek, his words of devotion in her ear, and the soft summer skysmiling down upon her. Alas, it was a dream from which she wasawakened by the thought of one across the sea, whose place she hadusurped, and this it was which brought the grieved expression to herface as she answered mournfully:

"I did want you, Guy, when I forgot; but now--oh, Guy--LucyAtherstone!"

With a gesture of impatience Guy was about to answer, when somethingin the heavy fall of the little hand from his shoulder alarmed him, and lifting up the drooping head he saw that Maddy had fainted. Thenback across the meadow Guy bore her to the cottage, where Flora, justreturned from a neighbor's, whither she had gone upon an errand, waslooking for her in much affright, and wondering who had come fromAikenside with that wet, tired horse, showing so plainly how hard ithad been driven. 

Up again into her little chamber Maddy was carried and laid upon thebed, which she never left until the golden harvest sheaves weregathered in, and the hot September sun was ripening the fruits ofautumn. But now she had a new nurse, a constant attendant, who duringthe 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 usedto do. He had not been sent to the asylum, as Maddy feared, but by wayof relieving Flora had been taken to Farmer Green's, where he was sohomesick and discontented that at Guy's instigation he was suffered toreturn to the cottage, crying like a little child when the oldfamiliar spot was reached, kissing his armchair, the cook-stove, thetongs, Mrs. Noah and Flora, and timidly offering to kiss the LordGovernor himself, as he persisted in calling Guy, who declined thehonor, but listened quietly to the crazy man's promise "not to spitthe smallest kind of a spit on the floor, or anywhere, except in itsproper place. "

Guy had passed through several states of mind during the interval inwhich we have seen so little of him. Furious at one time, and recklessas to consequences, he had determined to break with Lucy and marryMaddy, 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. Itwas in this last mood, and while roaming over the Western country, whither after his banishment he had gone, that he wrote to Lucy astrange kind of letter, saying he had waited for her long enough, andsick or well he should claim her the coming autumn. To this letterLucy had responded quickly, sweetly reproving Guy for his impatience, softly hinting that latterly he had been quite as culpable as herselfin the matter of deferring their union and appointing the bridal dayfor the--of December. After this was settled Guy felt better, thoughthe old sore spot in his heart, where Maddy Clyde had been, was verysore still, and sometimes it required all his powers of self-controlto keep from writing to Lucy and asking to be released from anengagement so irksome as his had become. Neglecting to answer Agnes'letters when he first left home, she did not know where he was until ashort time before, when she wrote apprising him of grandpa's death andMaddy's severe illness. This brought him, while Maddy's involuntaryoutburst when she met him in the graveyard, changed the whole currentof his intentions. Let what would come, Maddy Clyde should be his wifeand as such he watched over her, nursing her back to life, and by hismanner effectually silencing all remark, so that the neighborswhispered among themselves what Maddy's prospects were, and, as wasquite natural, were a very little more attentive to the future lady ofAikenside. Poor Maddy! it was a terrible trial which awaited her, butit must be met, and so with prayers and tears she fortified herself tomeet it, while Guy, the devoted lover, hung over her, never guessingof 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 dayin the graveyard, quivered with anguish as they asked for strength todo right. Oh, how Maddy did love the man she must give up, and howoften went up the wailing cry, "Help me, Father, to do my duty, andgive me, too, a greater inclination to do it than I now possess. "

Maddy's heart did fail her sometimes, and she might have yielded tothe temptation but for Lucy's letter, full of eager anticipations ofthe time when she should see Guy never to part again. 

"Sometimes, " she wrote, "there comes over me a dark foreboding ofevil--a fear that I shall miss the cup now within my reach; but I praythe bad feelings away. I am sure there is no living being who willcome between us to break my heart, and as I know God doeth all thingswell, I trust Him wholly, and cease to doubt. "

It was well the letter came when it did, as it helped Maddy to meetthe hour she so much dreaded, and which came at last on an afternoonwhen Mrs. Noah had gone to Aikenside, and Flora had gone on an errandto a neighbor's, two miles away, thus leaving Guy free to tell thestory, the old, old story, yet always new to him who tells it and herwho listens--story which, as Guy told it, sitting by Maddy's side, with her hands in his, thrilled her through and through, making thesweat drops start out around her lips and underneath her hair--storywhich made Guy himself pant nervously and tremble like a leaf, soearnestly he told it; told how long he had loved her, of the picturewithheld, the jealousy he felt each time the doctor named her, theselfish joy he experienced when he heard the doctor was refused; toldof his growing dissatisfaction with his engagement, his frequentresolves to break it, his final decision, which that scene in thegraveyard had reversed, and then asked if she would not be his--notdoubtfully, but confidently, eagerly, as if sure of her answer. 

Alas for Guy! he could not believe he heard aright when, turning herhead away for a moment while she prayed for strength, Maddy's answercame, "I cannot, Guy, I cannot. I acknowledge the love which hasstolen 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, thensay if you can desert her. "

She placed Lucy's letter in his hand, and Guy read it with a heartwhich 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 hisundisciplined nature more dreadful still, and casting the letter asidehe pleaded again, this time with the energy of despair, for he readhis fate in Maddy's face, and when her lips a second time confirmedher 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 wasno hope, and man though he was, bowed his head upon Maddy's hands andwept stormily, mighty, choking sobs, which shook his frame, and seemedto break up the very fountains of his life. Then to Maddy there came aterrible temptation. Was it right for two who loved as they did tolive their lives apart?--right in her to force on Guy the fulfillmentof vows he could not literally keep? As mental struggles are alwaysthe more severe, so Maddy's took all her strength away, and for manyminutes she lay so white and still that Guy roused himself to care forher, thinking of nothing then except to make her better. 

It was a long time ere that interview ended, but when it did there wason Maddy's face a peaceful expression, which only the sense of havingdone right at the cost of a fearful sacrifice could give, while Guy'sbore traces of a great and crushing sorrow, as he went out fromMaddy's presence and felt that to him she was lost forever. He hadpromised her he would do right; had said he would marry Lucy, being toher what a husband should be; had listened while she talked of anotherworld, where they neither marry nor are given in marriage, and whereit would not be sinful for them to love each other, and as she talkedher face had shone like the face of an angel. He had held one of herhands at parting, bending low his head, while she laid the other on itas she blessed him, letting her snowy fingers thread his soft brownhair and linger caressingly among his curly locks. But that was overnow. They had parted forever. She was lying where he left her, cold, and white, and faint with dizzy pain. He was riding swiftly towardAikenside, his heart beats keeping time to the swift tread of hishorse's feet, and his mind a confused medley of distracted thoughts, amid which two facts stood out prominent and clear-he had lost MaddyClyde, and had promised her to marry Lucy Atherstone. 

For many days after that Guy kept his room, saying he was sick, andrefusing to see any one save Jessie and Mrs. Noah, the latter of whomguessed in part what had happened, and imputing to him far more creditthan he deserved, petted and pitied and cared for him until he grewweary 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 refusedme and made me promise to marry Lucy; so I'm going to do that verything--going to England in a few weeks, or as soon as Maddy is better, and before the sun of this year sets I shall be a married man. "

After this all Mrs. Noah's sympathy was in favor of Maddy, the goodlady making more than one pilgrimage to Honedale, where she expendedall her arguments trying to make Maddy revoke her decision; but Maddywas firm in what she deemed right, and as her health began slowly toimprove, and there was no longer an excuse for Guy to tarry, he gaveout to the neighborhood that he was at last to be married, and startedfor England the latter part of October, as unhappy and unwilling abridegroom, it may be, as ever wait after a bride. 

CHAPTER XXL. 

THE INTERVAL BEFORE THE MARRIAGE. 

Maddy never knew how she lived through those bright, autumnal days, when the gorgeous beauty of decaying nature seemed so cruelly to mockher anguish. As long as Guy was there, breathing the same air withherself, she kept up, vaguely conscious of a shadowy hope thatsomething would happen without her instrumentality, something to easethe weight pressing so hard upon her. But when she heard that he hadreally gone, that a line had been received from him after he was onboard the steamer, all hope died out of her heart, and had it beenright she would have prayed that she might die and forget how utterlymiserable she was. 

At last there came to her three letters, one from Lucy, one from thedoctor, and one from Guy himself. Lucy's she opened first, reading ofthe sweet girl's great happiness in seeing her darling boy again, ofher sorrow to find him so thin, and pale, and changed, in all save hisextreme kindness to her, his careful study of her wants, and evidentanxiety to please her in every respect. On this Lucy dwelt, untilMaddy's heart seemed to leap up and almost turn over in its casing, sofiercely it throbbed and ached with anguish. She was out in thebeechen woods when she read the letter, and laying her face in thegrass she sobbed as she had never sobbed before. 

The doctor's next was opened, and Maddy read with blinding tears thatwhich for a moment increased her pain and sent to her bleeding heartan added pang of disappointment, or a sense of wrong done to her, shecould not tell which. Dr. Holbrook was to be married the same day withLucy, and to Lucy's sister, Margaret. 

"Maggie, I call her, " he wrote, "because that name is so much like myfirst love, Maddy, the little girl who though I was too old to be herhusband, and so made me very wretched for a time, until I met and knewMargaret Atherstone. I have told her of you, Maddy; I would not marryher without, and she seems willing to take me as I am. We shall comehome with Guy, who is the mere wreck of what he was when I last sawhim. He has told me, Maddy, all about it, and though I doubly respectyou now, I cannot say that I think you did quite right. Better thatone should suffer than two, and Lucy's is a nature which will forgetfar sooner than yours or Guy's. I pity you all. "

This almost killed Maddy; she did not love the doctor, but theknowledge that he was to marry another added to her misery, while whathe said of her decision was the climax of the whole. Had her sacrificebeen for nothing? Would it have been better if she had not sent Guyaway? It was anguish unspeakable to believe so, and the shadowy woodsnever echoed to so bitter a cry of pain as that with which she laidher head on the ground, and for a brief moment wished that she mightdie. God pitied His child then, and for the next half hour she hardlyknew what she suffered. 

There was Guy's letter yet to read, and with a listless indifferenceshe opened it, starting as there dropped into her lap a small _cartede viste_, a perfect likeness of Guy, who sent it, he said, becausehe wished her to have so much of himself. It would make him happier toknow she could sometimes look at him just as he should gaze upon herdear picture after it was a sin to love the original. And this was allthe direct reference he made to the past except where he spoke ofLucy, telling how happy she was, and how if anything could reconcilehim to his fate, it was the knowing how pure and good and loving wasthe wife he was getting. Then he wrote of the doctor and Margaret, whom he described as a dashing, brilliant girl, the veriest tease andmadcap 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 arenot inconsiderable. "

This letter, so calm, so cheerful in its tone, had a quieting effecton Maddy, who read it twice, and then placing it in her bosom, startedfor the cottage, meeting on the way with Flora who was seeking for herin great alarm. Uncle Joseph had had a fit, she said, and fallen uponthe floor, cutting his forehead badly against the sharp point of thestove. Hurrying on Maddy found that what Flora had said was true, andsent immediately for the physician, who came at once, but shook hishead doubtfully as he examined his patient. There were all thesymptoms of a fever, he said, bidding Maddy prepare for the worst. Nothing in the form of trouble could particularly affect Maddy now, and perhaps it was wisely ordered that Uncle Joseph's illness shouldtake her thoughts from herself. Prom the very first he refused to takehis medicines from any one save her or Jessie, who with her mother'spermission stayed altogether at the cottage, and who, as Guy's sister, was a great comfort to Maddy. 

As the fever increased, and Uncle Joseph grew more and more delirioushis cries for Sarah were heartrending, making Jessie weep bitterly asshe said to Maddy:

"If I knew where this Sarah was I'd go miles on foot to find her andbring her to him. "

Something like this Jessie said to her mother when she went for a dayto Aikenside, asking her in conclusion if she thought Sarah would go. 

"Perhaps, " and Agnes brushed abstractedly her long, flowing hair, winding it around her jeweled fingers, and then letting the soft curlsfall across her snowy arms. 

"Where do you suppose she is?" was Jessie's next question, but ifAgnes knew, she did not answer, except by reminding her littledaughter that it was past her bedtime. 

The next morning Agnes' eyes were very red, as if she had been wakefulthe entire night, while her white face fully warranted the headacheshe professed to have. 

"Jessie, " she said, as they sat together at their breakfast, "I amgoing to Honedale to-day, going to see Maddy, and shall leave youhere, as I do not care to have us both absent. "

Jessie demurred a little at first, but finally yielded, wondering whathad prompted this visit to the cottage. Maddy wondered so, too, asfrom the window she saw Agnes instead of Jessie alighting from thecarriage, and was conscious of a thrill of gratification that Agneswould have come to see her. But Agnes' business concerned the sickman, poor Uncle Joseph, who was sleeping when she came, and so did nothear her voice as in the tidy kitchen she talked to Maddy, appearingextremely agitated, and flashing her eyes rapidly from one part of theroom to another, resting now upon the tinware hung upon the wall andnow upon the gourd swimming in the water pail standing in the old-fashioned sink, with the wooden spout, directly over the pile ofstones covering the drain. These things were familiar to the proudwoman; she had seen them before, and the sight of them now brought toher a most remorseful regret for the past, while her heart achedcruelly as she wished she had never crossed that threshold, orcrossing it had never brought ruin to one of its inmates. Agnes wasnot the same woman whom we first knew. All hope of the doctor had longsince been given up, and as Jessie grew older the mother nature wasstronger within her, subduing her selfishness, and making her far moregentle and considerate for others than she had been before. To Maddyshe was exceedingly kind, and never more so in manner than now, whenthey sat talking together in the humble kitchen at the cottage. 

"You look tired and sick, " she said. "Your cares have been too muchfor one not yet strong. Let me sit by him till he wakes, and you go upto bed. "

Very gladly Maddy accepted the offered relief, and utterly worn outwith her constant vigils, she was soon sleeping soundly in her ownroom, while Flora, in the little shed, or back room of the house, wasbusy with her ironing. Thus there was none to follow Agnes as she wentslowly into the sick-room where Uncle Joseph lay, his thin faceupturned to the light, and his lips occasionally moving as he mutteredin his sleep. There was a strange contrast between that wastedimbecile and that proud, queenly woman, but she could remember a timewhen the superiority was all upon his side, a time when in herchildish estimation he was the embodiment of every manly beauty, andthe knowledge that he loved her, his sister's little hired girl, filled her with pride and vanity. A great change had come to them bothsince those days, and Agnes, watching him and smothering back the cryof pain which arose to her lips at sight of him, felt that for thefearful change in him she was answerable. Intellectual, talented, admired and sought by all he had been once; he was a mere wreck now, and Agnes' breath came in short, quick gasps, as glancing furtivelyaround to see that no one was near, she laid her hand upon hisforehead, and parting his thin hair, said, pityingly: "Poor Joseph. "

The touch awoke him, and starting up he stared wildly at her, whilesome memory of the past seemed to be struggling through the mistyclouds, obscuring his mental vision. 

"Who are you, lady? Who, with eyes and hair like hers?"

"I'm the `madam' from Aikenside, " Agnes said, quite loudly, as Florapassed the door. Then when she was gone she added, softly: "I'm Sarah. Don't you know me? Sarah Agnes Morris. "

It seemed for a moment to burst upon him in its full reality, and toher dying day Agnes would never forget the look upon his face, thesmile of perfect happiness breaking through the rain of tears, thelove, the tenderness mingled with distrust, which that look betokenedas he continued gazing at her, but said to her not a word. Again herhand rested on his forehead, and taking it now in his he held it tothe light, laughing insanely at its soft whiteness; then touching thecostly 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 tohim, said: "Here it is. Do you remember it?"

"Yes, yes, " and his lips began to quiver with a grieved, injuredexpression. "He could give you diamonds, and I couldn't. That's whyyou left me, wasn't it, Sarah--why you wrote that letter which made myhead into two? It's ached so ever since, and I've missed you so much, Sarah! They put me in a cell where crazy people were--oh! so many--andthey said that I was mad, when I was only wanting you. I'm not madnow, am I, darling?"

His arm was around her neck, and he drew her down until his lipstouched hers. And Agnes suffered it. She could not return the kiss, but she did not turn away from his, and she let him caress her hair, and wind it around his fingers, whispering: "This is like Sarah's, andyou are Sarah, are you not?"

"Yes, I am Sarah, " she would answer, while the smile so painful to seewould again break over his face as he told how much he had missed her, and asked if she had not come to stay till he died. 

"There's something wrong, " he said; "somebody dead, and seems as ifsomebody else wanted to die--as if Maddy died ever since the LordGovernor went away. Do you know Governor Guy?"

"I am his stepmother, " Agnes replied, whereupon Uncle Joseph laughedso long and loud that Maddy awoke, and, alarmed by the noise, camedown to see what was the matter. 

Agnes did not hear her, and as she reached the doorway, she started atthe strange position of the parties--Uncle Joseph still smoothing thecurls which drooped over him, and Agnes saying to him: "You heard hisname 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, andstanding upon the opposite side of the bed, she said, questioningly:"You are Sarah Morris?"

For a moment the eyelids quivered, then the neck arched proudly, as ifit were a thing of which she was not ashamed, and Agnes answered:"Yes, I was Sarah Agnes Morris; once for three months yourgrandmother's hired girl, and afterward adopted by a lady who gave mewhat education I possess, together with that taste for high life whichprompted me to jilt your Uncle Joseph when a richer man than heoffered himself to me. "

That was all she said--all that Maddy ever knew of her history, as itwas never referred to again, except that evening, when Agnes said toher, pleadingly: "Neither Guy nor Jessie, nor any one, need know whatI have told you. "

"They shall not, " was Maddy's reply; and from that moment the past, sofar as Agnes was concerned, was a sealed page to both. With this bondof confidence between them, Agnes felt herself strangely drawn towardMaddy, while, if it were possible, something of her olden love wasrenewed for the helpless man who clung to her now instead of Maddy, refusing to let her go; neither had Agnes any disposition to leavehim. She should stay to the last, so she said; and she did, takingMaddy's place, and by her faithfulness and care winning golden laurelsin the opinion of the neighbors, who marveled at first to see so gay alady at Uncle Joseph's bedside, attributing it all to her friendshipfor Maddy, just as they attributed his calling her Sarah to a crazyfreak. She did resemble Sarah Morris a very little, they said; and inMaddy's presence they sometimes wondered where Sarah was, repeatingstrange things which they had heard of her; but Maddy kept the secretfrom every one, so that even Jessie never suspected why her motherstayed day after day at the cottage; watching and waiting until thelast day of Joseph's life. 

She was alone with him then, so that Maddy never knew what passedbetween them. She had left them together for an hour, while she didsome errands; and when she returned, Agnes met her at the door, andwith a blanched cheek whispered: "He is dead; he died in my arms, blessing you and me; do you hear, blessing me! Surely; my sin is nowforgiven?"

CHAPTER XXIL

BEFORE THE BRIDAL. 

There was a fresh grave made in the churchyard, and another chairvacant at the cottage, when Maddy was at last alone. Unfettered bycare and anxiety for sick ones, her aching heart was free to go outafter the loved ones over the sea, go to the elm-shaded mansion shehad heard described so often, and where now two brides were busy withtheir preparations for the bridal hurrying on so fast. Since theletter read in the smoky, October woods, Maddy had not heard from Guydirectly, though Lucy had written since, a few brief lines, tellinghow happy she was, how strong she was growing, and how much likehimself Guy was becoming. Maddy had been less than a woman if the lastintelligence had failed to affect her unpleasantly. She did not wishGuy to regret his decision; but to be forgotten so soon after sostrong protestations of affection, was a little mortifying, andMaddy's heart throbbed painfully as she read the letter, half hopingit might prove the last she should receive from Lucy Atherstone. Guyhad 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 insistedthat at least the suite of rooms intended for the bride should bethoroughly renovated with new paper and paint, carpets and furniture. This plan Mrs. Noah opposed, for she guessed how little Guy would carefor the change; but Agnes was resolved, and as she had great faith inMaddy's taste, she insisted that she should go to Aikenside, and passher judgment upon the improvements. It would do her good, she said--little dreaming how much it cost Maddy to comply with her wishes, orhow fearfully the poor, crushed heart ached, as Maddy went through thehandsome rooms fitted up for Guy's young bride; but Mrs. Noah guessedit all, pitying so much the white-faced girl, whose deep mourningrobes told the loss of dear ones by death; but gave no token of thatgreat loss, tenfold worse than death. 

"It was wicked in her to fetch you here, " she said to Maddy, one daywhen in Lucy's room she found her sitting upon the floor, with herhead bowed down upon the window sill. "But law, she's a triflin'thing, and didn't know 'twould kill you, poor child, poor Maddy!" andMrs. Noah laid her hand kindly on Maddy's hair. "Maybe you'd better gohome, " she continued, as Maddy made no reply; "it must be hard, to behere in the rooms, and among the things which by good rights should beyours. "

"No, Mrs. Noah, " and Maddy's voice was strangely unnatural, as shelifted up her head, revealing a face so haggard and white that Mrs. Noah was frightened, and asked in much alarm if anything new hadhappened. 

"No, nothing; I was going to say that I'd rather stay a little longerwhere there are signs and sounds of life. I should die to be alone atHonedale to-morrow. I may die here, I don't know. Do you know thatto-morrow will be the bridal?"

Yes, Mrs. Noah knew it; but she hoped it might have escaped Maddy'smind. 

"Poor child, " she said again, "poor child, I mistrust you did wrong totell him no!"

"Oh, Mrs. Noah, don't tell me that; don't make it harder for me tobear. The tempter has been telling me so, all day, and my heart is sohard and wicked, I cannot pray as I would. Oh, you don't know howwretched I am!" and Maddy hid her face in the broad, motherly lap, sobbing so wildly that Mrs. Noah was greatly perplexed, how to act, orwhat to say. 

Years ago, she would have spurned the thought that the grandchild ofthe old man who had bowed to his own picture should be mistress ofAikenside; but she had changed since then, and could she have had herway, she would have stopped the marriage, and, bringing her boy home, have given him to the young girl weeping so convulsively in her lap. But Mrs. Noah could not have her way. The bridal guests were, eventhen, assembling in that home beyond the sea. She could not call Guyback, and so she pitied and caressed the wretched Maddy, saying to herat last:

"I'll tell you what is impressed on my mind; this Lucy's got theconsumption, without any kind of doubt, and if you've no objections toa widower, you may----"

She did not finish the sentence, for Maddy started in horror. To herthere was something murderous in the very idea, and she thrust itquickly aside. Guy Remington was not for her, she said, and her wishwas to forget him. If she could get through the dreaded to-morrow, sheshould do better. There had been a load upon her the whole day, anightmare she could not shake off, and she had come to Lucy's room, inthe hope of leaving her burden there, of praying her pain away. WouldMrs. Noah leave her a while, and see that no one came?

The good woman could not refuse, and going out, she left Maddy by thewindow, watching the sun as it went down, and then watching; thewintry twilight deepen over the landscape, until all things wereblended together in one great darkness, and Jessie, seeking for herfound her at last, fainting upon the floor. 

Maddy was glad of the racking headache, which kept her in her bed thewhole of the next day, glad of any excuse to stay away from thefamily, talking--all but Mrs. Noah--of Guy, and what was transpiringin England. They had failed to remember the difference in thelongitude of the two places; but Maddy forgot nothing, and when theclock struck four, she called Mrs. Noah to her and whispered, faintly:

"They were to be married at eight in the evening. Allowing forpossible delays, it's over before this and Guy is lost forever!"

Mrs. Noah had no consolation to offer, and only pressed the hot, feverish hands, while Maddy turned her face to the wall, and did notspeak 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, canhe, see how miserable I am?" Maddy was indeed passing through deepwaters, and that night, the fourth of December, the longest, dreariestshe ever knew, could never be forgotten. Once past, the worst wasover, and as the rarest metal is purified by fire, so Maddy came fromthe dreadful ordeal strengthened for what was before her. Both Agnesand Mrs. Noah noticed the strangely beautiful expression of her face, when she came down to the breakfast-room, while Jessie, as she kissedher pale cheek, whispered:

"You look as if you had been with the angels. " Guy was not expectedwith his bride for two weeks, or more, and as the days dragged on, Maddy felt that the waiting for him was more intolerable than theseeing him with Lucy would be. Restless and impatient, she could notremain quietly at the cottage--while at Aikenside, she longed toreturn again to her own home, and in this way the time wore on, untilthe anniversary of that day when she had come from New York, and foundGuy waiting for her the station. To stay that day in the house so rifewith memories of the dead was impossible, and Flora was surprised anddelighted to hear that both were going up to Aikenside in the vehiclehired of Farmer Green, whose officiated as driver. It was nearly noonwhen they reached their destination, meeting at the gate with Flora'sbrother Tom, who said to them:

"We've heard from Mr. Guy; the ship is in; they'll be here sureto-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 weredying. Never until then had she realized how, all the while, she hadbeen clinging to an indefinable hope, a presentiment that somethingmight yet occur to spare her from a long lifetime of pain, such as laybefore her if Guy were really lost; but the bubble had burst, leavingher nothing to hope, nothing to cling to, nothing but black despair;and half bewildered, she received the noisy greeting of Jessie, whomet her at the door, and dragged her into the drawing-room, decoratedwith flowers from the hothouse, told her to guess who was coming. 

"I know; Tom told me; Guy is coming with Lucy, " Maddy answered, andrelieving 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, asshe chafed Maddy's cold hands, and leading her to the fire, made hersit down, while she untied her hood, and removed her cloak and furs. 

"I did not know it, or I should have stayed away, " Maddy replied; "Ishall not stay, as it is. I cannot see them to-day. Charlie will driveme back before the train is due; but what did he say? And how isLucy?" "He did not mention her. There's the dispatch" and Mrs. Noahhanded to Maddy the telegram, received that morning, and which wassimply as follows:

"The steamer is here. Shall be at the station at five o'clock P. M. GUY REMINGTON. "

Twice Maddy read it over, experiencing much the same feeling she wouldhave experienced had it been her death warrant she was reading. 

"At five o'clock. I must go before that, " she said, sighing as sheremembered how, one year ago that day, she was traveling over the veryroute 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, theevents of which grew more and more distinct in her memory, making hercheeks burn even now, as she recalled his many acts of tenderness andcare. 

Laying the telegram on the table, she went with Mrs. Noah through therooms, warmed and made ready for the bride, lingering longest inLucy's, which the bridal decorations, and the bright fire blazing inthe grate made singularly inviting. As yet, there were no flowersthere, and Maddy claimed the privilege of arranging them for this roomherself. Agnes had almost stripped the conservatory; but Maddy foundenough to form a most tasteful bouquet, which she placed upon a marbledressing table; then within a slip of paper which she folded acrossthe top, she wrote: "Welcome to the bride. "

"They both will recognize my handwriting; they'll know I've beenhere, " she thought, as with one long, last, sad look at the room, shewalked 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 honorof 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 toher an age, so much of happiness and pain had come to her since then. There was a place for her there now, a place near Guy; but she shouldnot fill it. She could not stay; and she astonished Agnes and Jessie, just as they were going to make their dinner toilet, by announcing herintention of going home. She was not dressed to meet Mrs. Remington, she said, shuddering as for the first time she pronounced a name whichthe servants had frequently used, and which jarred on her ear, everytime she heard it. She was not dressed appropriately to meet anEnglish lady. Flora of course would stay, she said, as it was naturalshe should, to greet her new mistress; but she must go, and findingCharlie Green she bade him bring around the buggy. 

Agnes was not particularly surprised, for a vague suspicion ofsomething like the truth had gradually been creeping into her brain, as she noted Maddy's pallid face, and the changes which passed over itwhenever Guy was mentioned. Agnes pitied Maddy, for in her own heartthere was a little burning spot, when she remembered who was toaccompany Dr. Holbrook. So she did not urge her to remain, and shetried to hush Jessie's lamentations when she heard Maddy was going. 

One long, sad, wistful look at Guy's and Lucy's home, and Maddyfollowed Charlie to the buggy waiting for her, bidding him driverapidly, as there was every indication of a coming storm. 

The gray, wintry afternoon was drawing to a close, and the Decembernight was shutting down upon the Honedale hills in sleety rain, whenthe cottage was reached, and Maddy, passing up the narrow, slipperywalk, entered the cold, dreary room, where there was neither fire norlight, nor friendly voice to greet her. No sound save the ticking ofthe clock; no welcome save the purring of the house cat, who camecrawling at her feet as she knelt before the stove and tried to kindlethe fire. Charlie Green had offered to go in and do this for her, asindeed he had offered to return and stay all night, but she haddeclined, preferring to be alone, and with stiffened fingers she laidthe kindlings Flora had prepared, and then applying the match, watchedthe blue flame as it gradually licked up the smoke and burst into acheerful blaze. 

"I shall feel better when it's warm, " she said, crouching over thefire, and shivering with more than bodily cold, There was a kind of nameless terror stealing over her as she atthinking of the year ago when the inmates of three graves across themeadow 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 toglance at the shadowy corners filling her with fear. 

The lamp was found, and its friendly beams soon dispersed the darknessfrom the corners and the fear from Maddy's heart, but it could notdrive from her mind thoughts of what might at that moment betranspiring at Aikenside. If the bride and groom came at all thatnight, she knew they must have been there for an hour or more, and infancy she saw the tired, but happy, Lucy, as up in her pleasant roomshe made her toilet for dinner, with Guy standing by and looking on. Just as he had a right to do. Did he smile approvingly upon his youngwife? Did his eye, when it rested on her, light up with the sameexpression she had seen so often when it looked at her? Did he commendher taste and say his little wife was beautiful, as he kissed herfair, white cheek, or was there a cloud upon his handsome face, ashadow on his heart, heavy with thoughts of her, and would he ratherit were Maddy there in the bridal room? If so, his burden was hardindeed, but not so hard as hers, and kneeling on the floor, poor Maddylaid her head in the chair, and, 'mid piteous moans, asked God, herFather, to help them both to bear--help her and Guy--making the latterlove as he ought the gentle girl who had left home and friends to livewith him in a far-distant land; asked, too, that she might tear fromher heart every sinful thought, loving Guy only as she might love thehusband of another. 

The prayer ended, Maddy still sat upon the floor, while over her paleface the lamplight faintly flickered, showing the dark lines beneathher eyes and the tear stains on her cheek. Without, the storm stillwas raging, and the wintry rain, mingled with sleet and snow, beatpiteously against the curtained windows, while the wind howledmournfully as it shook the door and sweeping past the cottage wentscreaming over the hill. But Maddy heard nothing of the tumult. Shehad brought a pillow from the bedroom, and placing it upon the chair, sat down again upon the floor and rested her head upon it. She did noteven know that her pet cat had crept up beside her, purringcontentedly and occasionally licking her hair, much less did she hearabove the storm the swift tread of horses' feet as some one camedashing down the road, the rider pausing an instant as he caught aglimpse of the cottage lamp and then hurrying on to the public housebeyond, where the hostler frowned moodily at being called out to carefor a stranger's horse, the stranger meanwhile turning back a foot towhere the cottage lamp shone a beacon light through the inky darkness. The stranger reached the little gate and, undoing the fastening, wenthurrying up the walk, his step upon the crackling snow catchingMaddy's ear at last and making her wonder who could be coming there onsuch a night as this. It was probably Charlie Green, she said, andwith a feeling of impatience at being intruded upon she arose to herfeet just as the door turned upon its hinges, letting in a powerfuldraught of wind, which extinguished the lamp and left her in totaldarkness. 

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 terrorquite as much as if the footsteps hurrying toward her had been thefootsteps of the dead, instead of belonging, as she knew they did, toGuy Remington--Guy, who, with garments saturated with rain, felt forher in the darkness, found her where from faintness she had crouchedagain beside the chair, drew her closely to him, in a passionate, almost painful, hug, and said, oh! so tenderly, so lovingly:

"Maddy, my darling, my own! We will never be parted again. "

CHAPTER XXIII. 

LUCY. 

Hours had gone by, and the clock hands pointed to twelve, ere Maddycompelled herself to hear the story Guy had come to tell. She hadthrust him from her at first, speaking to him of Lucy, his wife, andGuy had answered her back: "I have no wife--I never had one. Lucy isin heaven, " and that was all Maddy knew until the great shock hadspent itself in tears and sobs, which became almost convulsions as shetried to realize the fact that Lucy Atherstone was dead; that thebridal robe about which she had written, with girlish frankness, proved to be her shroud, and that her head that night was not pillowedon Guy's arm, but was resting under English turf and beneath anEnglish sky. She could listen at last, but her breath came in pantinggasps; while Guy told her how, on the very morning of the bridal, Lucyhad greeted him with her usual bright smile, appearing and lookingbetter than he had before seen her look since he reached her mother'shome; how for an hour they sat together alone in a little room sacredto her, because years before it was there he confessed his love. 

Seated on a low ottoman, with her golden head lying on his lap, shehad this morning told him, in her artless way, bow much she loved him, and how hard it sometimes was to make her love for the creature secondto her love for the Creator; told him she was not faultless, and askedthat when he found how erring and weak she was, he would bear with herfrailties as she would bear with his; talked with him, too, of MaddyClyde, confessing in a soft, low tone, how once or twice a pang ofjealousy 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, nextto her own sister, she loved Maddy Clyde. Other words, too, werespoken--words of guileless, pure affection, too sacred even for Guy tobreathe to Maddy; and then Lucy had left him, her hart-bounding stepechoing through the hall and up the winding stairs, down which shenever came again alive, for when Guy next looked upon her she waslying white as a water lily, her neck and dress and golden hairstained with the pale red life current oozing from her livid lips. Ablood vessel had been suddenly ruptured, the physician said, and forher, the fair, young bride, there was no hope. They told her she mustdie, for the mother would have them tell her. Once, for a few moments, there rested on her face a fearfully frightened look, such as aharmless bird might wear when suddenly caught in a snare. But thatsoon passed away as from beneath the closed eyelids the great tearscame gushing, and the stained lips whispered faintly: "God knows bestwhat's right. Poor Guy!--break it gently to him. "

At this point in the story Guy broke down entirely, sobbing as onlystrong men can sob. 

"Maddy, " he said, "I felt like a heartless wretch--a most consummatehypocrite--as, standing by Lucy's side, I met the fond, pitying glanceof her blue eyes, and suffered her poor little hand to part my hair asshe tried to comfort me, even though every word she uttered wasshortening her life; tried to comfort me, the wretch who was there sounwillingly, and who at this prospect of release hardly knew at firstwhether he was more sorry than pleased. You may well start from he inhorror, Maddy. I was just the wretch I describe: but I overcame it, Maddy, and Heaven is my witness that no thought of you intruded itselfupon me afterward is I stood by my dying Lucy--gentle, patient, lovingto the last. I saw how good, how sweet she was, and something of theold love, the boy love, came back to me, as I held her in my arms, where she wished to be. I would have saved her if I could; and when Icalled her 'my darling Lucy, ' they were not idle words. I kissed hermany times for myself, and once, Maddy, for you. She told me to. Shewhispered: 'Kiss me, Guy, for Maddy Clyde. Tell her I'd rather sheshould take my place than anybody else--rather my Guy should call herwife--for I know she will not be jealous if you sometimes talked ofyour dead Lucy, and I know she will help lead my boy to that blessedhome where sorrow never comes. ' That was the last she ever spoke, andwhen the sun went down death had claimed my bride. She died in myarms, Maddy. I felt the last fluttering of her pulse, the last beat ofher heart. I laid her back upon her pillows. I wiped the blood fromher 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 untilAikenside was reached. I talked with Mrs. Noah; I heard all of youthere was to tell, and then I talked with Agnes, who was not greatlysurprised, and did not oppose my coming here tonight. I could notremain there, knowing you were alone. In the bridal chamber I foundyour bouquet, with its 'Welcome to the bride. ' Maddy, you must be thatbride. Lucy sanctioned it, and the doctor, too, for I told him all. His own wedding was, of course, deferred, and he did not come homewith me, but he said: 'Tell Maddy not to wait. Life is too short towaste any happiness. She has my blessing. ' And, Maddy, it must be so. Aikenside needs a mistress; you are all alone. You are mine--mineforever. "

The storm had died away, and the moonbeams stealing through the windowtold that morning was breaking, but neither Guy nor Maddy heeded thelapse of time. Theirs was a sad kind of happiness as they talkedtogether, and could Lucy have listened to them she would have feltsatisfied that she was not forgotten. One long, bright curl, cut fromher head by his own hand, was all there was left of her to Guy, savethe hallowed memories of her purity and goodness--memories which wouldyet mold the proud, impulsive Guy into the earnest, consistentChristian which Lucy in her life had desired that he should be, andwhich Maddy rejoiced to see him. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

FINALE. 

The close of a calm September afternoon, and the autumnal sunlightfalls softly upon Aikenside, where a gay party is now assembled. Forfour years Maddy Clyde has been mistress there, and in looking backupon them she wonders how so much happiness as she has known could beexperienced in so short a time. Never but once has the slightestripple of sorrow shadowed her heart, and that was when her noblehusband, Guy, said to her, in a voice she knew was earnest anddetermined that he could no longer remain deaf to his country'scall--that where the battle storm was raging he was needed, and like asecond Sardanapalus he must not stay at home. Then for a brief seasonher bright face was overcast, and her brown eyes dim with weeping. Giving him to the war seemed like giving him up to death. But womencan be as true heroes as men. Indeed, it oftentimes costs more couragefor a weak, confiding woman to bid her loved ones leave her for thefield of carnage than it costs them to face the cannon's mouth. Maddyfound it so, but Christian patriotism triumphed over all, and stiflingher own grief, she sent him away with smiles, and prayers, andcheering words of encouragement, turning herself for consolation tothe source from which she never sued for peace in vain. Save that shemissed her husband terribly, she was not lonely, for her beautifuldark-eyed boy, whom they called Guy, Jr. , kept her busy, while notvery many weeks afterward, Guy, Sr. , sitting in his tent, read withmoistened eyes of a little golden-haired daughter, whom Maddy namedLucy Atherstone, and gazed upon a curl of hair she inclosed to thesoldier father, asking if it were not like some other hair nowmoldering back to dust within an English churchyard. "Maggie" said itwas, Aunt Maggie, as Guy, Jr. , called the wife of Dr. Holbrook, whohad come to Aikenside to stay, while her husband did his duty assurgeon in the army. That little daughter is a year-old baby now, andin her short white dress and coral bracelets she sits neglected on thenursery floor, while mother and Jessie, Maggie and everybody hastenout into the yard to welcome the returning soldier, Major Guy, whosearm is in a sling, and whose face is very pale from the effects ofwounds received at Gettysburg, where his daring courage had well-nighwon for Maddy a widow's heritage. For the present the arm is disabled, and so he has been discharged, and comes back to the home where warmwords of welcome greet him, from the lowest servant up to his darlingwife, who can only look her joy as he folds her in his well arm, andkisses her beautiful face. Only Margaret Holbrook seems a little sad, she had so wanted her husband to come with Guy, but his humanity wouldnot permit him to leave the suffering beings who needed his care. Loving messages he sent to her, and her tears were dried when sheheard from Guy how greatly he was beloved by the pale occupants of thebeds of pain, and how much he was doing to relieve their anguish. 

Jessie, grown to be a most beautiful girl of nearly sixteen, is stilla 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 sheheard he was wounded, how she wishes she was a boy, so she couldenlist, how nicely Flora is married and settled down at the cottage inHonedale, and then asks if he knows aught of the rebel colonel to whomjust before the war broke out her mother was married, and whose homewas in Richmond. 

Guy knows nothing of him, except that he is still doing what he deemshis duty in fighting for the Confederacy, but from exchangedprisoners, who had come up from Richmond, he has heard of a beautifullady, an officer's wife, and as rumor said, a Northern woman, whovisited them in prison, speaking kind words of sympathy, and oncebinding up a drummer boy's aching head with a handkerchief, which hestill retained, and on whose corner could be faintly traced the nameof "Agnes Remington. "

Jessie's eyes are full of tears as she says:

"Poor mamma, how glad I am I did not go to Virginia with her. It'smonths since I heard from her direct. Of course it was she who was sogood to the drummer boy. She cannot be much of a rebel, " and Jessieglances triumphantly at Mrs. Noah, who, never having quite overcomeher dislike of Agnes, had sorely tried Jessie by declaring that hermother "had found her level at last, and was just where she wanted tobe. "

Good Mrs. Noah, the ancient man whose name she bore would as soon havethought of leaving the Ark as she of turning a traitor to her country, and when she heard of the riotous mob raised against the draft, shetalked seriously of going in person to New York "to give 'em a pieceof her mind, " and for one whole day refused to speak to Flora'shusband, because he was a "dum dimocrat, " and she presumed was opposedto Lincoln. With the exception of Maddy, no one was more please to seeGuy than herself. He was her boy, the one she brought up, and with alla mother's fervor she kissed his bronzed cheek, and told him how gladshe was to have him back. 

With his boy on his sound arm, Guy disengaged himself from the noisygroup and went with Maddy to where the little lady, the child he hadnever seen, was just beginning to show signs of resentment at beingleft 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, andstretching out her fat, white hands, went to him readily. Blue-eyedand golden haired, she bore but little resemblance to either father ormother, but there was a sweet, beautiful face, of which Maddy hadoften dreamed, but never seen, and whether it were in the infantilefeatures of his little girl. Parting lovingly her yellow curls andkissing her fair cheek, he said to Maddy, softly, just as he alwaysspoke of that dead one:

"Maddy, darling, Margaret Holbrook is right--our baby daughter is verymuch like our dear lost Lucy Atherstone. "