He was smoothing her hair now, as her bead still lay pillowed upon his
breast, so he could not see the spasm of pain which contorted her
features as be thus appealed to her. Half bewildered, Maddy could not
at first make out whether it were a blissful dream or a reality, her
lying there in Guy's arms with his kisses on her forehead, lips and
cheek, his words of devotion in her ear, and the soft summer sky
smiling down upon her. Alas, it was a dream from which she was
awakened by the thought of one across the sea, whose place she had
usurped, and this it was which brought the grieved expression to her
face as she answered mournfully: "I did want you, Guy, when I forgot; but now--oh, Guy--Lucy
Atherstone!"
With a gesture of impatience Guy was about to answer, when something
in the heavy fall of the little hand from his shoulder alarmed him,
and lifting up the drooping head he saw that Maddy had fainted. Then
back across the meadow Guy bore her to the cottage, where Flora, just
returned from a neighbor's, whither she had gone upon an errand, was
looking for her in much affright, and wondering who had come from
Aikenside with that wet, tired horse, showing so plainly how hard it
had been driven.
Up again into her little chamber Maddy was carried and laid upon the
bed, which she never left until the golden harvest sheaves were
gathered in, and the hot September sun was ripening the fruits of
autumn. But now she had a new nurse, a constant attendant, who during
the 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 used
to do. He had not been sent to the asylum, as Maddy feared, but by way
of relieving Flora had been taken to Farmer Green's, where he was so
homesick and discontented that at Guy's instigation he was suffered to
return to the cottage, crying like a little child when the old
familiar spot was reached, kissing his armchair, the cook-stove, the
tongs, Mrs. Noah and Flora, and timidly offering to kiss the Lord
Governor himself, as he persisted in calling Guy, who declined the
honor, but listened quietly to the crazy man's promise "not to spit
the smallest kind of a spit on the floor, or anywhere, except in its
proper place."
Guy had passed through several states of mind during the interval in
which we have seen so little of him. Furious at one time, and reckless
as to consequences, he had determined to break with Lucy and marry
Maddy, 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. It
was in this last mood, and while roaming over the Western country,
whither after his banishment he had gone, that he wrote to Lucy a
strange kind of letter, saying he had waited for her long enough, and
sick or well he should claim her the coming autumn. To this letter
Lucy had responded quickly, sweetly reproving Guy for his impatience,
softly hinting that latterly he had been quite as culpable as herself
in the matter of deferring their union and appointing the bridal day
for the--of December. After this was settled Guy felt better, though
the old sore spot in his heart, where Maddy Clyde had been, was very
sore still, and sometimes it required all his powers of self-control
to keep from writing to Lucy and asking to be released from an
engagement so irksome as his had become. Neglecting to answer Agnes'
letters when he first left home, she did not know where he was until a
short time before, when she wrote apprising him of grandpa's death and
Maddy's severe illness. This brought him, while Maddy's involuntary
outburst when she met him in the graveyard, changed the whole current
of his intentions. Let what would come, Maddy Clyde should be his wife
and as such he watched over her, nursing her back to life, and by his
manner effectually silencing all remark, so that the neighbors
whispered among themselves what Maddy's prospects were, and, as was
quite natural, were a very little more attentive to the future lady of
Aikenside. Poor Maddy! it was a terrible trial which awaited her, but
it must be met, and so with prayers and tears she fortified herself to
meet it, while Guy, the devoted lover, hung over her, never guessing
of 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 day
in the graveyard, quivered with anguish as they asked for strength to
do right. Oh, how Maddy did love the man she must give up, and how
often went up the wailing cry, "Help me, Father, to do my duty, and
give me, too, a greater inclination to do it than I now possess."