Controlling her voice as well as she was able, Maddy told him how the physicians at the asylum had written that as Uncle Joseph would in all human probability never be perfectly sane, and as a change of scene would do him good, Mr. Markham had better try taking him a while; that having been spoken with upon the subject, he seemed as anxious as a little child, even crying when the night came around and he was not at home, as he expressed it. “They have kept him so long,” Maddy said, “that grandpa thought it his duty to relieve them, though he can’t well afford it, and so he’s coming next week, and grandma will need some one to help, and I must go. I know it’s wrong, but I do not want to go, try as I will.”
It was a gloomy prospect to exchange Aikenside for the humble home where poverty had its abode, and it was not very strange that Maddy should shrink from it at first. She did not stop to ask what was her duty, or think how much happiness her presence might give her grandparents, or how much she might cheer and amuse the weak imbecile, her uncle. She was but human, and so when Guy began to devise ways of preventing her going, she listened, while the pain at her heart grew less as her faith in Guy grew stronger. He would drive down with her to-morrow, he said, and see what could be done. Meanwhile she must dry her eyes and go to Jessie, who was calling her.
As Guy had half expected, the doctor came around that evening, and inviting him into his private room, Guy proceeded at once to unfold his scheme, asking him first:
“How much he probably received a year for his services as physician.”
The doctor could not tell at once, but after a little thought made an estimate, and then inquired why Guy had asked the question.
“Because, Doc, I have a project on foot. Lucy Atherstone is dying with what they call consumption. I don’t believe those old fogies understand her disease, and if you will go over to England and undertake her cure, I’ll give you just double what you’ll get by remaining here. They are going to Naples for the winter, and, undoubtedly, will spend some time in Paris. It will be just the thing for you. Lucy and her mother will be glad of your services when they know I sent you, Lucy likes you now. Will you go? You can trust Maddy to me. I’ll take good care that she is worthy of you when you come back.”
At the mention of Maddy’s name, the doctor’s brow darkened. He was sure that Guy meant kindly, but it grated on his feelings to be thus joked about what he knew was a stern reality. Guy’s project appeared to him at first a most insane one, but as he continued to enlarge upon it, and the advantage it would be to the doctor to travel in the old world, a feeling of enthusiasm was kindled in his own breast; a desire to visit Naples and France, and the places he had dreamed of as a boy, but never hoped to see, Guy’s plan began to look more feasible, and possibly he might have yielded but for one thought, and that a thought of Maddy Clyde. He would not leave her alone with Guy, even though Guy was true to Lucy as steel. He would stay; he would watch; and in time he would win the young girl waiting now for him in the hall below, waiting to tell him ’mid blushes of shame and tears of regret how she had meant to pay him with her very first wages, but now, Uncle Joseph was coming home, and he must wait a little longer.
“Would he, could he be so good?” and unmindful of Guy’s presence Maddy laid her hand confidingly upon his arm, while her soft eyes looked beseechingly into his.
How the doctor wished Guy was away, and kindly taking the hint, Guy left them together in the lighted hall. Sitting down on the sofa, and making Maddy sit beside him, the doctor began:
“Maddy, you know I mean what I say, at least to you, and when I tell you that I never think of that bill except when you speak of it, you will believe me. I know your grandfather’s circumstances, and I know, too, that I did much to induce your sickness, consequently if I made one out at all, it would be a very small one.”