Aikenside - Page 128/166

"Maddy," the old man said, "come sit close by me, where I can look

into your face, while we talk over what must be done."

With a half shudder, Maddy drew a stool to her grandfather's feet, and

resting her head upon his knee, listened while he talked to her of the

future; told her all her grandmother had done; told of his own

helplessness; of the trial it was to care for Uncle Joseph, and then

in faltering tones asked who was going to look after them now. "We

can't live here alone, Maddy. We can't. We're old and weak, and want

some one to lean on. Oh, why didn't God take us with her, Joseph and

me, and that would leave you free, to go back to the school and the

life which I know is pleasanter than to stay here with us. Oh, Maddy!

it comforts me to look at you--to hear your voice, to know that though

I don't see you every minute, you are somewhere, and by and by you'll

come in. I shan't live long, and maybe Joseph won't. God's promise is

to them who honor father and mother. It'll be hard for you to stay,

harder than it was once; but, Maddy, oh, Maddy! stay with me, stay

with me!--stay with your old grandpa!"

In his earnestness he grasped her arm, as if he thus would hold her,

while the tears rained over his wrinkled face. For a moment Maddy made

no response. She had no intention of leaving him, but the burden was

pressing heavily and her tongue refused to move. Maddy was then a

stranger to the religion which was sustaining her grandfather in his

great trouble, but the teachings of her childhood had not been in

vain. She was God's covenant child. His protecting presence was over

and around her, moving her to the right. New York, with its gay

sights, her school, where in another year she was to graduate, the

trip to the Catskills which Guy had promised Mrs. Agnes, Jessie and

herself, Aikenside with its luxurious ease--all these must be given

up, while, worse than all the rest, Guy, too, must be given up. He

would not come there often; the place was not to his taste, and in

time he would cease to care for her as he cared for her now. "Oh, that

would be dreadful!" she groaned aloud, while here thoughts went

backward to that night ride in the snowstorm, and the numberless

attentions he had paid her then. She would never ride with him

again--never; and Maddy moaned bitterly, as she began to realize

for the first time how much she liked Guy Remington, and how the

giving him up and his society was the hardest part of all. But Maddy

had a brave young heart, and at last, winding her arms around her

grandfather's neck, she whispered: "I will not leave you, grandpa.

I'll stay in grandmother's place."