To Maddy there came no definite idea of the future during the two days
that white, rigid form lay in the darkened cottage; but when, at last,
the deep grave made for Grandma Markham was occupied, and the lounge
in the little front room was empty--when the Aikenside carriage, which
had been sent down for the use of the mourners, had been driven away,
taking both Guy and Mrs. Noah--when the neighbors, too, had gone,
leaving only herself and the little hired girl sitting by the evening
fire, with the grandfather and the imbecile Uncle Joseph--then it was
that she first began to fed the pressure of the burden--began to ask
herself if she could live thus always, or at least for many years--as
long as either of the two helpless men were spared. Maddy was young,
and the world as she had seen it was very bright and fair, brighter
far than a life of laborious toil, and for a while the idea that the
latter alternative must be accepted made her dizzy and faint.
As if divining her thoughts, poor old grandpa, in his prayers that
night, asked in trembling tones, which showed how much he felt what he
was saying, that God would guide his darling in all she did, and give
her wisdom to make the proper decision; that if it were best she might
be happy there with them, but if not, "Oh, Father, Father!" he sobbed,
"help me and Joseph to bear it." He could pray no more aloud, and the
gray head remained bowed down upon his chair, while Uncle Joseph, in
his peculiar way, took up the theme, begging like a very child that
Maddy might be inclined to stay--that no young men with curling hair,
a diamond cross, and smell of musk, might be permitted to come near
her with enticing looks, but that she might stay as she was and die an
old maid forever! This was the subject of Uncle Joseph's prayer, a
prayer which set the little hired girl to tittering, and would have
wrung a smile from Maddy herself had she not felt all the strange
petition implied.
With waywardness natural to people in his condition, Uncle Joseph that
night turned to Maddy for the little services his sister had formerly
rendered, and which, since her illness, Grandpa Markham had done, and
would willingly do still. But Joseph refused to let him. Maddy must
untie his cravat, unbutton his vest, and take off his shoes, while,
after he was in bed, Maddy must sit by his side, holding his hand
until he fell away to sleep. And Maddy did it cheerfully, soothing him
into quiet, and keeping back her own choking sorrow for the sake of
comforting him. Then, when this task was done she sought her
grandfather, still sitting before the kitchen fire and evidently
waiting for her. The little hired girl had retired, and thus there was
no barrier to free conversation between them.