Aikenside - Page 137/166

The voice he craved, or the echo of it, did reach her, for Jessie had

been present when the fancy first seized him to hear of Sarah, and in

the shadowy twilight she told her mother all, dwelling most upon the

touching sadness of his face when he said, "Does she know how sick and

sorry I am?"

The pillow which Agnes pressed that night was wet with tears, while in

her heart was planted a germ of gratitude and respect for the young

girl doing her work for her. All that she could do for Maddy without

going directly to her, she did, devising many articles of comfort,

sending her fruit and flowers, the last new book, or whatever else she

thought might please her, and always finding a willing messenger in

Guy. He was miserable, and managed when at home to make others so

around him. The sight of Maddy bearing her burden so uncomplainingly

almost maddened him. Had she fretted or complained could bear it

better, he said, but he did not see the necessity for her to lose all

her spirit or interest in everything and everybody. Once when he

hinted as much to Maddy, he had been awed into silence by the subdued

expression of her face as she told him in part what it was which

helped her to bear and made the rough places so smooth. He had seen

something like this in Lucy, when paroxysms of pain were racking her

delicate frame, but he could not understand it; he only knew it was

something he could not touch--something against which his arguments

beat helplessly, and so, with an added respect for Maddy Clyde, he

smothered his impatience, and determining to help her all he could,

rode down to Honedale every day, instead of twice a week, as he had

done before.

Attentions so marked could not fail to be commented upon; and while

poor, unsuspecting Maddy was deriving so much comfort from his daily

visits, deeming that day very long which did not bring him to her, the

Honedale gossips, of which there were many, were busy with her

affairs, talking them over at their numerous tea-drinkings, discussing

them in the streets, and finally at a quilting, where they met in

solemn conclave, deciding, that, "for a girl like Maddy Clyde it did

not look well to have so much to do with 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 this

foolin' with Maddy," chimed in Mrs. Joel Spike, throwing the chalk

across the quilt to her sister, Tripheny Marvel, who wondered if Maddy

thought he'd ever have her.