He liked her, and all over Maddy's face there spread a beautiful flush
as the words rang in her ears. And then she told Guy how much she
wished to be a teacher, and so take care of her grandparents and her
poor Uncle Joseph. It seemed almost cruel for that young creature to
be burdened with the care of those three half-helpless people, and Guy
shuddered just as he usually did when he associated Maddy with them,
but when he listened while she told him of all the castles she had
built, and in every one of which there was a place for "our folks," as
she termed them, it was more in the form of a blessing than a caress
that his hand rested on her shining hair.
"You are a good girl, Maddy," he said, "and I am glad now that I have
concluded to send you where you can be better fitted for the office
you mean to fill than you could be here, but I shall miss you sadly. I
like little girls, and though you can hardly be classed there now, you
seem to me much like Jessie, and I take pleasure in doing for you as I
would for her. Maddy---"
Guy stopped, uncertain what to say next, while Maddy's eyes again
looked up inquiringly.
He was going now to tell "the little girl much like Jessie" of Lucy
Atherstone, and the words would not come at first.
"Maddy," he said, again blushing guiltily, "I have said I liked you,
and so I hope will some one else. I have written of you to her."
Up to this point Maddy had a vague idea that he meant the doctor, but
the "her" dispelled that thought, and a most inexplicable feeling of
numbness crept over her as she asked faintly: "Written to whom?"
Guy did not look at Maddy. He only knew that her head moved out from
beneath his hand as he replied: "To Miss Atherstone--Miss Lucy Atherstone. Have you never heard of
her?"
No, Maddy never had, and with that same numbness she could not
understand, she listened while Guy told her who Lucy Atherstone was,
and why she was not at that moment the mistress of Aikenside. There
was no reason why Guy should be excited, but he was, and he talked
very rapidly, never once glancing at Maddy until he had finished
speaking. She was looking at him intently, wondering if he could hear
as she did the beatings of her heart. Had her life depended upon it,
she could not at first have spoken, for the numbness which, like bands
of steel, seemed to press all the feeling out of it. She did not know
why it was that hearing of Lucy Atherstone should affect her so.
Surely she ought to be glad for Guy that he possessed the love of so
sweet a creature as he described her to be. He was glad, she knew, he
talked so energetically--so much as if it were a pleasure to talk; and
she was glad, too, only it had taken her so by surprise to know that
Mr. Guy, whom she had rather considered as exclusively her own and
Jessie's was engaged, and that some time, before long it might be,
Aikenside would really have a mistress. She did not quite understand
Guy's last words, although she was looking at him, and he asked her
twice if she would like to see Lucy's picture ere she comprehended
what he meant.