"Madeline Amelia Clyde," was the meek reply, which Guy quickly
recorded.
Now, Guy Remington intended no irreverence; indeed, he could not tell
what he did intend, or what it was which prompted his next query: "Who gave you this name?"
Perhaps he fancied himself a boy again in the Sunday school, and
standing before the railing of the altar, where, with others of his
age, he had been asked the question propounded to Madeline Clyde, who
did not hear the doctor's smothered laugh as he retreated into the
adjoining room.
In all her preconceived ideas of this examination, she had never
dreamed of being catechised, and with a feeling of terror as she
thought of that long answer to the question, "What is thy duty to thy
neighbor?" and doubted her ability to repeat it, she said: "My
sponsors, in baptism gave me the first name of Madeline Amelia, sir,"
adding, as she caught and misconstrued the strange gleam in the dark
eyes bent upon her, "I am afraid I have forgotten some of the
catechism; I did not know it was necessary in order to teach school."
"Certainly, no; I do not think it is. I beg your pardon," were Guy
Remington's ejaculatory replies, as he glanced from Madeline to the
open door of the adjoining room, where was visible a slate, on which,
in huge letters, the amused doctor had written "Blockhead."
There was something in Madeline's quiet, womanly, earnest manner which
commanded Guy's respect, or he would have given vent to the laughter
which was choking him, and thrown off his disguise. But he could not
bear now to undeceive her, and, resolutely turning his back upon the
doctor, he sat down by that pile of books and commenced the
examination in earnest, asking first her age.
"Going on fifteen," sounded older to Madeline than "Fourteen and a
half," so "Going on fifteen" was the reply, to which Guy responded:
"That is very young, Miss Clyde."
"Yes, but Mr. Green did not mind. He's the committeeman. He knew how
young I was," Madeline said, eagerly, her great brown eyes growing
large with the look of fear which came so suddenly into them.
Guy noticed the eyes then, and thought them very bright and handsome
for brown, but not so bright or handsome as a certain pair of soft
blue orbs he knew, and feeling a thrill of satisfaction that sweet
Lucy Atherstone was not obliged to sit there in that doctor's office
to be questioned by him or any other man, he said: "Of course, if your
employers are satisfied it is nothing to me, only I had associated
teaching with women much older than yourself. What is logic, Miss
Clyde?"