Maddy was very happy after it was settled, and chatted gayly with her grandmother, while Guy went out with her grandfather, who wished to speak with him alone.
“Young man,” he said, “you have taken a deep interest in me and mine since I first came to know you, and I thank you for it all. I’ve nothing to give in return except my prayers, and those you have every day; you and that doctor. I pray for you two just as I do for Maddy. Somehow you three come in together. You’re uncommon good to Maddy. ’Tain’t every one like you who would offer and insist on learning her. I don’t know what you do it for. You seem honest. You can’t, of course, ever dream of making her your wife, and, if I thought—yes, if I supposed”—here grandpa’s voice trembled, and his face became a livid hue with the horror of the idea—“if I supposed that in your heart there was the shadow of an intention to deceive my child, to ruin my Maddy, I’d throttle you here on the spot, old as I am, and bitterly as I should repent the rashness.”
Guy attempted to speak, but grandpa motioned him to be silent, while he went on:
“I do not suspect you, and that’s why I trust her with you. My old eyes are dim, but I can see enough to know that Maddy is beautiful. Her mother was so before her, and the Clydes were a handsome race. My Alice was elevated, folks thought, by marrying Captain Clyde, but I don’t think so. She was pure and good as the angels, and Maddy is much like her, only she has the ambition of the Clydes: has their taste for everything a little above her. She wouldn’t make nobody blush if she was mistress of Aikenside.”
Grandpa felt relieved when he had said all this to Guy, who listened politely, smiling at the idea of his deceiving Maddy, and fully concurring with grandpa in all he said of her rare beauty and natural gracefulness. On their return to the house grandpa showed Guy the bedroom intended for Uncle Joseph, and Guy, as he glanced at the furniture, though within himself how he would send down from Aikenside some of the unused articles piled away on the garret when he refurnished his house. He was becoming greatly interested in the Markhams, caring nothing for the remarks his interest might excite among the neighbors, some of whom watched Maddy half curiously as in the stylish carriage, beside its stylish owner, she rode back to Aikenside in the quiet, autumnal afternoon.
CHAPTER XIII.
UNCLE JOSEPH.
In course of time Uncle Joseph came as was arranged, and on the day following Maddy and Guy rode 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 as Mr. 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 if she were engaged, and bidding her be careful that her fiancé was not more than a dozen years older than herself.
Uncle Joseph seemed to take to 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 had 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 with a series of headaches, so severe and protracted that Dr. Holbrook had pronounced her really sick, and had been unusually attentive. Anxiously she had waited for the result of Maddy’s visit to the poor lunatic, and her face was colorless as marble as she heard him described, while a faint sigh escaped her when Maddy told what he had said of Sarah.