"Darling little Lucy, I do love her very dearly," was Guy's comment,
as he finished reading her letter, feeling somewhat as if her mother
were a kind of cruel ogress, bent on preventing him from being happy.
Then, as he remembered Lucy's hope that he might join her, and thought
how much easier of access New York was than Brighton, he said, half
petulantly: "I've been to England for nothing times enough. When that mother of
hers says I may have Lucy, I'll go again, but not before. It don't
pay."
And crushing the letter into his pocket, he went out upon the piazza
where were assembled Maddy, Jessie and Mrs. Agnes, the latter of whom
had come to Aikenside the day before.
At first she had objected to the boarding-school arrangement, saying
Jessie was too young, but Guy as usual had overruled her objections,
as he had those of Grandpa Markham, and it was now a settled thing
that Maddy and Jessie both should go to New York, Mrs. Agnes to
accompany them if she chose, and having a general supervision of her
child. This was Guy's plan, the one which had prevailed with the
fashionable woman, who, tired of Boston, was well pleased with the
prospect of a life in New York. Guy's interest in Maddy was wholly
inexplicable to her, unless she explained it on the principal that in
the Remington nature there was a fondness for governesses, as had been
exemplified in her own history. That Guy would ever marry Maddy she
doubted, but the mere possibility of it made her set her teeth firmly
together as she thought how embarrassing it would be to acknowledge as
the mistress of Aikenside the little girl whom she had sought to
banish from her table. Since her return she had had no opportunity of
judging for herself how matters stood, and was consequently much
relieved when, as Guy joined them, he began at once to speak of Lucy,
telling of the letter, and her request for Maddy's picture.
"Me? Mine? You cannot mean that?" Maddy exclaimed, her eyes opening
wide with wonder, but Guy did mean it, and began to plan a drive on
the morrow to Devonshire, where there was at that time a tolerably
fair artist.
Accordingly the next day the four went down to Devonshire, calling
first upon the doctor, whose face brightened when he heard why they
had come. During the weeks that had passed, the doctor had not been
blind to at that was passing at Aikenside, and the fear that Guy was
more interested in Maddy than he ought to be, had grown almost to a
certainty. Now, however, he was not so sure. Indeed, the fact that Guy
had told her of Lucy Atherstone would indicate that his suspicions
were groundless, and he entered heartily into the picture plan, saying
laughingly that if he supposed Miss Lucy would like his face he'd sit
himself, and bidding Guy be sure to ask her. The doctor's gay spirits
helped raise those of Maddy, and as that little burning spot in her
heart was fast wearing away, she was in just the mood for a most
admirable likeness. Indeed, the artist's delight at his achievement
was unbounded, as he declared it the very best picture he had ever
taken. It was beautiful, even Agnes acknowledged to herself, while
Jessie wait into raptures, and Maddy blushed to hear her own praises.
Guy said nothing, except to ask that Maddy should sit again; this was
good, but a second might be better. So Maddy sat again, succeeding
quite as well as at first, but as the artist's preference was for the
former, it was left to be finished up, with the understanding that Guy
would call for it. As the ladies passed down the stairs, Guy lingered
behind, and when sure they were out of hearing, said in a low voice: "You may as well finish both; they are too good to be lost."