Here was a dilemma—something for which the doctor was not prepared, and with a feeling that he would not betray Guy, he said:
“No; that was some one else—a friend of mine—but I was there in the back office. Don’t you remember me? Please don’t grow excited. Compose yourself, and I will explain all by and by. This is wrong. ’Twill never do,” and talking thus rapidly he wiped away the sweat, about which grandma had told him.
Maddy was disappointed, and it took her some time to rally sufficiently to convince the doctor that she was not flighty, as he termed it; but composing herself at last, she answered all his questions, and then, as he saw her eyes wandering toward the bouquet, he suddenly remembered that it was not yet presented, and placing it in her hands, he said:
“You like flowers, I know, and these are for you. I——”
“Oh! thank you, thank you, doctor; I am so glad. I love them so much, and you are so kind. What made you think to bring them? I’ve wanted flowers so badly; but I could not have them, because I was sick and did not work in the garden. It was so good in you,” and in her delight Maddy’s tears dropped upon the fair blossoms.
For a moment the doctor was sorely tempted to keep the credit thus enthusiastically given; but he was too truthful for that, and so watching her as her eyes glistened with pleased excitement, he said:
“I am glad you like them, Miss Clyde, and so will Mr. Remington be. He sent them to you from his conservatory.”
“Not Mr. Remington from Aikenside—not Jessie’s brother?” and Maddy’s eyes now fairly danced as they sought the doctor’s face.
“Yes Jessie’s brother. He came here with her. He is interested in you, and brought these down this morning.”
“It was Jessie, I guess, who sent them,” Maddy suggested, but the doctor persisted that it was Guy.