It was after nine ere John appeared, his crisp wool powdered with snow
which clung to his outer garments, and literally covered his dark,
cloth cap.
"'Twas mighty deep," he said, bowing to Maddy, "and the wind was
getting colder. 'Twas a hard time Miss Clyde would have, and hadn't
she better wait?"
No, Maddy could not wait, and standing up she suffered Guy to wrap her
cloak about her, and fasten more securely the long, warm scarf she
wore around her neck.
"Drive close to the platform," he said to John, and the covered sleigh
was soon brought to the point designated. "Now then, Maddy, I won't
let you run the risk of covering your feet with snow. I shall carry
you myself," Guy said, and ere Maddy was fully aware of his
intentions, he had her in his arms, and was bearing her to the sleigh.
Very carefully he drew the soft, warm robe about her, shielding her as
well as he could from the cold; then pulling his own fur collar about
his ears, he sprang in beside her, and, closing the door behind him,
bade John drive on.
"But, Mr. Remington," Maddy exclaimed in much surprise, "surely you
are not going too? You must not. It is asking too much. It is more
than I expected. Please don't go." "Would you rather I should not--that
is, aside from any inconvenience it may be to me--would you rather go
alone?" Guy asked, and Maddy replied: "Oh, no. I was dreading the long ride, but did not dream of your
going. You will shorten it so much." "Then I shall be paid for going,"
was Guy's response, as he drew still more closely around her the fancy
buffalo robe.
The roads, though badly drifted in some places, were not as bad as Guy
had feared, and the strong horses kept steadily on; while Maddy,
growing more and more fatigued, at last fell away to sleep, and ceased
to answer Guy, For a time he watched her drooping head, and then
carefully drawing it to him, made it rest upon his shoulder, while he
wound his arm around her slight figure, and so supported her. He knew
she was sleeping quietly, by her gentle breathings; and once or twice
he involuntarily passed his hand caressingly over her soft, round
cheek, feeling the blood tingle to his finger tips as he thought of
his position there, with Maddy Clyde sleeping in his arms. What would
Lucy say, could she see him? And the doctor, with his strict ideas of
right and wrong, would he object? Guy did not know, and, with his
usual independence, he did not care. At least, he said to himself he
did not care; and so, banishing both the doctor and Lucy from his
mind, he abandoned himself to the happiness of the moment--a singular
land of happiness, inasmuch as it merely consisted in the fact that
Maddy Clyde's young head was pillowed on his bosom, and that, by
bending down, he could feel her sweet breath on his face. Occasionally
there flitted across Guy's mind a vague, uneasy consciousness that
though the act was, under the circumstances, well enough, the feelings
which prompted it were not such as either the doctor or Lucy would
approve. But they were far away; they would never know unless he told
them, as he probably should, of this ride on that wintry night; this
ride, which seemed to him so short that he scarcely believed his
senses when, without once having been overturned or called upon to use
the shovels so thoughtfully provided, the carriage suddenly came to a
halt, and he knew by the dim light shining through the low window that
the red cottage was reached.