CHAPTER XIII.GOSSIP.
In course of time Uncle Joseph came, as was arranged, and on the day following Maddy and Guy went down to see him, finding him a tall, powerfully-built man, retaining many vestiges of manly beauty, and fully warranting all Mrs. Markham had said in his praise. He seemed perfectly gentle and harmless, though when Guy was announced asMr. Remington, Maddy noticed that in his keen black eyes there was for an instant a fiery gleam, but it quickly passed away, as he muttered:
“Much too young; he was older than I, and I am over forty. It’s all right.”
And the fiery eye grew soft and almost sleepy in its expression, as the poor lunatic turned next to Maddy, telling her how pretty she was, asking her if she were engaged, and bidding her be careful that herfiancéwas not more than a dozen years older than herself.
Uncle Joseph seemed to fancy her from the very first, following her from room to room, touching her fair soft cheeks, smoothing her silken hair, telling her Sarah’s used to curl, asking if she knew where Sarah was, and finally crying for her as a child cries for its mother, when at last she went away. Much of this Maddy repeated to Jessie, as in the twilight they sat together in the parlor at Aikenside; and Jessie was not the only listener, for, with her face resting on her hand, and her head bent eagerly forward, Agnes sat, so as not to lose a word of what Maddy was saying of Uncle Joseph. The intelligence that he was coming to the red cottage had been followed by a series of headaches, so severe and protracted that Dr. Holbrook had pronounced her really sick, and had been unusually attentive. Very anxiously she had waited for the result of Maddy’s visit to the poor lunatic, and her face was white as marble as she heard him described, while a faint sigh escaped her when Maddy told what he had said ofSarah.
Agnes was changed somewhat of late. She had grown more thoughtful and quiet, while her manner toward Maddy was not so haughty as formerly. Guy thought her improved, and thus was not so delighted as he would otherwise have been, when, one day, abouttwo weeks after Uncle Joseph’s arrival at Honedale, she startled him by saying she thought it nearly time for her to return to Boston, if she meant to spend the winter there, and asked what she should do with Jessie.
Guy was not quite willing for Agnes to leave him there alone, but when he saw that she was determined he consented to her going, with the understanding that Jessie was to remain—a plan which Agnes did not oppose, as a child so large as Jessie might stand in the way of her being so gay as she meant to be in Boston. Jessie, too, when consulted, said she would far rather remain at Aikenside; and so one November morning, Agnes kissed her little daughter, and bidding good-bye to Maddy and the servants, left a neighborhood which, since Uncle Joseph was so near, had become so intolerable that not even the hope of winning the doctor could avail to keep her in it.
Guy accompanied her to the city, wondering why, when he used to like it so much, it now seemed dull and tiresome, or why the society he had formerly enjoyed failed to bring back the olden pleasure he had experienced when a resident of Boston. Guy was very popular there, and much esteemed by his friends of both sexes, and great were the efforts made to entertainand keep him as long as possible. But he could not be prevailed upon to stay there long, and after seeing Agnes settled in one of the most fashionable boarding-houses he started for Aikenside.
It was dark when he reached home, and as the evening had closed in with a heavy rain, the house presented rather a cheerless appearance, particularly as, in consequence of Mrs. Noah’s not expecting him that day, no fires had been kindled in the parlors, or in any room except the library. There a bright coal fire was blazing in the grate, and thither Guy repaired, finding there, as he expected, Jessie and her teacher. Not liking to intrude on Mr. Guy, of whom she still stood somewhat in awe, Maddy soon arose to leave, but Guy bade her stay; he should be lonely without her, he said; and so, bringing her work, she sat down to sew, while Jessie looked over a book of prints, and Guy upon the lounge studied the face which, it seemed to him, grew each day more and more beautiful. Then he talked with her of books, and the lessons which were to be resumed on the morrow, watching her as her bright face sparkled and glowed with excitement. Then he questioned her of her father’s family, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction inknowing that the Clydes were not a race of whose blood any one need be ashamed; and Maddy was more like them, he was sure, than like the Markhams, and Guy shivered a little as he recalled the peculiar dialect of Mr. and Mrs. Markham, and remembered that they were Maddy’s grandparents. Not that it was anything to him. Only as an inmate of his family he felt interested in her, more so perhaps than young men were apt to be interested in their sister’s governess.
Had Guy then been asked the question, he would, in all probability, have acknowledged that in his heart there was a feeling of superiority to Maddy Clyde; that she was not quite the equal of Aikenside’s heir, nor yet of Lucy Atherstone. It was natural; he had been educated to feel the difference, but any haughty arrogance of which he might have been guilty was kept down by his extreme good sense, and generous, impulsive nature. He liked Maddy; he liked to look at her as, in the becoming crimson merino which he really and Jessie nominally had given her, she sat before him, with the firelight falling on her beautiful hair, and making shadows on her sunny face.
Guy was luxurious in his tastes and it seemed tohim that Maddy was just the picture to set off that room, or, in fact, all the rooms at Aikenside. She would disgrace none of them, and he found himself wishing that Providence had made her something to him—sister or cousin, or anything that would make her one of the Remington line.
It did not take long for the people in the neighborhood to hear that Guy Remington had turned schoolmaster, and had in his library for two hours or more each day Jessie’s little girl-governess, about whose beauty there was so much said; people wondering, as people will, where it would end, and if it could be possible that the haughty Guy had forgotten his Englishfiancéeand was educating a wife.
The doctor, to whom these remarks were sometimes made, silently gnashed his teeth, then said savagely that “if Guy chose to teach Maddy Clyde, he did not see whose business it was,” and then rode over to Aikenside to see the teacher and pupil, half hoping that Guy would soon tire of his project and give it up. But Guy grew more and more pleased with his employment, until, at last, from giving Maddy two hours of his time, he gave her four, esteeming them the pleasantest of the whole twenty-four. Guy was proud of Maddy’s improvement, andoften praised her to the doctor, who also marveled at the rapid development of her mind and the progress she made, grasping a knotty point almost before it was explained, and retaining with wonderful tenacity what she had learned.
It mattered nothing to Guy that the neighbors gossiped; there were none familiar enough to tell him what was said, except the doctor or Mrs. Noah; and so he heard few of the remarks made so frequently. As in Honedale, so in Sommerville Maddy was a favorite, and those who interested themselves most in the matter never said anything worse of her and Mr. Guy than that he might perhaps be educating his own wife, and insinuating that it would be a great “catch” for Grandfather Markham’s child. But Maddy never dreamed of such a thing, and kept on her pleasant way, reciting every day to Guy, and going every Wednesday to the red cottage, whither, after his first visit to Uncle Joseph, Guy never accompanied her. Jessie, on the contrary, went often to Honedale, where the lunatic always greeted her coming, stealing up closely to her, and whispering softly, “My Daisy has come again.”
He had called herSarahat first, and then changed the name to “Daisy,” which he persisted in callingher, watching from his window for her coming, and crying whenever Maddy appeared without her. At first Agnes, in her letters, forbade Jessie’s going so often to see a lunatic; but when Jessie described the poor, crazy man’s delight at sight of her, telling how quiet and happy he seemed if he could but lay his hand on her head, or touch her hair, she withdrew her restrictions, and, as if moved to an unwonted burst of tenderness, wrote to her daughter, “Comfort that crazy man all you can; he needs it so much.”
A few weeks after this there came another letter from Agnes, but this time it was to Guy, and its contents darkened his handsome face with anger and vexation. Incidentally Agnes had heard the gossip, and written it to Guy, adding, in conclusion: “Of course I know it is not true, for even if there were no Lucy Atherstone, you, of all men, would not stoop to Maddy Clyde. I do not presume to advise, but I will say this, that now she is growing a young lady, people will keep on talking so long as you keep her there in the house; and it’s hardly fair toward Lucy.”
Latterly Guy had fancied that the doctor did not like the educating process, while even Mrs. Noah managed to keep Maddy out of his way as soonas the lessons were ended. What did they mean? What were they afraid of, and why did they presume to interfere with him? He would know, at all events; and summoning Mrs. Noah to his presence, he read her that part of Agnes’s letter pertaining to Maddy, and asked what it meant.
“It means this, that folks are in a constant worry, for fear you’ll fall in love with Maddy Clyde.”
“I fall in love with that child!” Guy repeated, laughing at the idea, and forgetting that he had often accused the doctor of doing that very thing.
“Yes, you,” returned Mrs. Noah, “and ’taint strange they do; Maddy is not a child; she’s nearer sixteen than fifteen, is almost a young lady; and if you’ll excuse my boldness, I must say I ain’t any too well pleased with the goin’s on myself; not that I don’t like the girl, for I do, and I don’t blame her an atom. She’s as innocent as a new-born babe, and I hope she’ll always stay so; but you, Mr. Guy, you now tell me honest—do you think as much of Lucy Atherstone as you used to, before you took up school-teachin’?”
Guy did not like to be interfered with, and, naturally high-spirited, he at first flew into a passion, declaring that he would not have people meddlingwith him, that he thought of Lucy Atherstoneallthe time, and he did not know what more he could do; that it was a pity if a man could not enjoy himself in his own way, provided that way were harmless; that he’d never, in all his life, spent so happy a winter as the last; that——
Here Mrs. Noah interrupted him with, “That’s it, the veryit; you want nothing better than to have that girl sit close to you when she recites, as she does; and once when she was workin’ out some of themplussesandminuses, and things, her slate rested on your knee; it did, I saw it with my own eyes; and then, let me ask, when Jessie is drummin’ on the piano, why don’t you bend over her, and turn the leaves, and count the time as you do when Maddy plays; and how does it happen that lately, Jessie is in the way, when you hear Maddy’s lessons. She has no suspicions, but I know she ain’t sent off for nothin’; I know you’d rather be alone with Maddy Clyde than to have anybody present; isn’t it so?”
Guy began to wince. There was much truth in what Mrs. Noah had said. He did devise various methods of getting rid of Jessie when Maddy was in his library, but it had never looked to him in just thelight it did as when presented by Mrs. Noah, and he doggedly asked what Mrs. Noah would have him do.
“First and foremost, then, I’d have you tell Maddy yourself that you are engaged to Lucy Atherstone; second, I’d have you write to Lucy all about it, and if you honestly can, tell her that you only care for Maddy as a friend; third, I’d have you send the girl——”
“Not away from Aikenside! I never will!” and Guy sprang to his feet.
The mine had exploded, and for an instant the young man reeled, as he caught a glimpse of his real self. Still, he would not believe it, or confess to himself how strong a place in his affection was held by the beautiful girl, now no longer a child. It was almost a year since that April afternoon when he first saw Maddy Clyde, and from a timid, bashful child, of fourteen and a half, she had grown to the rather tall and self-possessed maiden of fifteen and a half, almost sixteen, or, as Mrs. Noah said, “almost a woman;” and as if to verify the latter fact, she herself appeared at that very moment, asking permission to come in and find a book, which had been mislaid, and which she needed in hearing Jessie’s lessons.
“Certainly, come in,” Guy said; and folding hisarms he leaned against the mantel, watching her as she hunted for the missing book.
There was no pretense about Maddy Clyde, nothing was done for effect, and yet in every movement she showed marks of great improvement, both in manner and style. Of one hundred people who might glance at her, ninety-nine would look a second time, asking who she was. Naturally graceful and utterly forgetful of herself, she always appeared to good advantage, and never to better than now, when two pairs of eyes were watching her, as, standing on tiptoe, or kneeling upon the floor to look under the secretary, she hunted for the book. Not the remotest suspicion had Maddy of what was occupying the thoughts of her companions, though, as she left the room and glanced brightly up at Guy, it struck her that his face was dark and moody, and a painful sensation flitted through her mind that in some way she had intruded.
“Well,” was Mrs. Noah’s first comment, as the door closed on Maddy; but as Guy made no response to that, she continued: “She is pretty. That you won’t deny.”
“Yes, more than pretty. She’ll make a most beautiful woman.”
Guy seemed to talk more to himself than to Mrs.Noah, while his foot kicked the fender, and he mentally compared Lucy and Maddy with each other, and tried to think that it was not the result of this comparison, but rather Mrs. Noah’s next remark, which affected him unpleasantly.
“Of course she’ll make a splendid woman,” Mrs. Noah said. “Everybody notices her now for her beauty, and that’s why you’ve no business to keep her here where you see her every day. It’s a wrong to her, lettin’ yourself alone.”
Guy looked up inquiringly, and Mrs. Noah continued:
“I’ve been a girl myself, and I know that Maddy can’t be treated as you treat her without its having an effect. I’ve no idea that it’s entered her head yet, but it will, and then good-bye to her happiness.”
“For pity’s sake, what do you mean? Do explain, and not talk to me in riddles. What have I done to Maddy, or what am I going to do?”
Guy spoke savagely, and his boots were in great danger of being burned as he kicked vigorously against the fender. Coming nearer to him, and lowering her voice, Mrs. Noah replied:
“You are going to teach her to love you, Guy Remington, just as sure as my name is Noah.”
“And is that anything so very bad, I’d like to know? Most girls do not find love distasteful,” and Guy walked hastily to the window, where he stood for a moment gazing out upon the soft April snow, which was falling, and feeling anything but satisfied either with the weather or himself; then walking back, and taking a seat before the fire, he said: “I understand you now. You would save Maddy Clyde from sorrow, and you are right. You know more of girls than I do. She might in time get to—to—think of me as she ought not. I never looked upon it in this light before. I’ve been so happy with her;” Guy’s voice faltered a little, but he recovered himself and went on: “I will tell her about Lucy to-night, but I can’t send her away. Neither will she be happy to go back, for though the best of people, they are not like Maddy, and you know it.”
Mrs. Noah did know it, and pleased that her boy, as she called Guy, had shown some signs of penitence and amendment, she said she did not think it necessary to send Maddy home; she did not advise it either. She liked the girl, and what she advised was this, that Guy should send Maddy and Jessie both to boarding-school. Agnes, she knew, would be willing, and it was the best thing he could do. Maddy wouldthus learn what was expected of a teacher, and as soon as she graduated, she could procure some eligible situation, or if Lucy were there, and desired it, she could come and stay forever for all she cared.
“And during the vacations, where must she go?” Guy asked.
“Go where she pleases, of course. As Jessie is so fond of her, and they are so much like sisters, it will not be improper for her to come here, as I see, provided Agnes is here. Her presence, of course, would make a difference,” Mrs. Noah replied; while Guy continued:
“I know you are right; that is, I do not wish to do Maddy a harm by placing temptation in her way, neither will I have anybody meddling with my business. I tell you I won’t. I don’t mean you, for you have a right to say what no one else has,” and he glanced half angrily at Mrs. Noah. “Pity if I can’t take an interest in a girl, because I once wronged her, without every old woman in Christendom thinking she must needs fall in love with me, and so be ruined for life. Maddy Clyde has too good sense for that, or will have when I tell her about Lucy.”
“And you will do so?” Mrs. Noah said, coaxingly.
“Of course I will, and write to Lucy, too, telling her how you talked, and how I care no more for Maddy than I do for Jessie.”
“And will that be true?” Mrs. Noah asked.
Guy could not look her fully in the face then, so he kicked the grate until the concussion sent the red-hot coals out upon the carpet, as he replied:
“True? Yes, every word of it.”
Mrs. Noah noted all this, and thought:
“I ought to have taken him in hand long ago;” then she came up to him and said kindly, soothingly, “We shall all miss Maddy; I as much as any one, but I do think it best for her to go to school; and so, after tea, I’ll manage to keep Jessie with me, and send Maddy to you, while you tell her about Lucy and the plan.”
Guy nodded a little jerking kind of a nod, in token of his assent, and then, with that perversity which prompts women particularly to press a subject after enough has been said upon it, Mrs. Noah, as she turned to leave the room, gave vent to the following:
“You know, Guy, as well as I, that, pretty as she is, Maddy is really beneath you, and no kind of a match, even if you wan’t as good as married, whichyou be;” and the good lady left the room in time to escape seeing the sparks fly up the chimney, as Guy now made a most vigorous use of the poker, and so did not finish the scorching process commenced on the end of his boot.
Mrs. Noah’s last remark awakened in Guy a singular train of thought. Maddy was his inferior as the world saw matters, and, settling himself in the chair, he tried to fancy what that same world would say if he should make Maddy his wife. Of course he had no such intentions, he was just imagining something which never could possibly happen, because in the first place he wouldn’t marry Maddy Clyde if he could, and he couldn’t if he would! Still, it was not an unpleasant occupation fancying what his friends, and especially Agnes, would say if he did, and so he sat dreaming about it until the bell rang for supper, when with a nervous start he woke from the reverie, and wishing the whole was over started for the supper room.