The Aikenside carriage was standing at Mrs. Conner’s gate when he returned, and Jessie came running out to meet him, followed by Guy, while Agnes, in the most becoming riding habit, sat by the window looking as unconcerned at his arrival as if it were not the very event for which she had been impatiently waiting, Jessie was a great pet with the doctor, and, lifting her lightly in his arms, he kissed her forehead where the golden curls were clustering and said to her:
“I have seen Maddy Clyde. She asked for you, and why you do not come to see her, as you promised.”
“Mother won’t let me,” Jessie answered. “She says they are not fit associates for a Remington.”
There was a sudden flash of contempt on the doctor’s face, and a gleam of wrath in Agnes’ eyes as she motioned Jessie to be silent, and then gracefully received the doctor, who by this time was in the room. As if determined to monopolize the conversation, and keep it from turning on the Markhams, Agnes rattled on for nearly fifteen minutes, scarcely allowing Guy a chance for uttering a word. But Guy bided his time, and seized the first favorable opportunity to inquire after Madeline.
She was improving rapidly, the doctor said, adding: “You ought to have seen her delight when I gave her your bouquet.”
“Indeed,” and Agnes bridled haughtily; “I did not know that Guy was in the habit of sending bouquets to such as this Clyde girl. I really must report him to Miss Atherstone.”
Guy’s seat was very near to Agnes, and while a cloud overspread his fine features, he said to her in an aside:
“Please say in your report that the worst thing about this Clyde girl is that she aspires to be a teacher, and possibly a governess.”
There was an emphasis on the last word which silenced Agnes and set her to beating her French gaiter on the carpet; while Guy, turning back to the doctor, replied to his remark:
“She was pleased, then?”