Grandpa felt relieved when he had said all this to Guy, who listened politely, smiling at the idea of 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 bed-room intended for Uncle Joseph, and Guy, as he glanced at the furniture, thought within himself how he would send down from Aikenside some of the unused articles piled away on the garret when he refurnished his house.
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 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 her 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 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 of Sarah.
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, about two 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 entertain and 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.