Maddy had never attended a big party in her life, and her eyes sparkled from mere anticipation as she looked appealingly to her grandfather, who, though classing parties with the pomps and vanities from which he would shield his child, still remembered that he once was young; that, fifty years ago he, too, like Maddy, wanted “to see the folly of it,” and not take the mere word of older people that in every festival scene there was a pitfall, strewn over so thickly with roses that it was ofttimes hard to tell just where its boundary line commenced. Besides that, grandpa had faith in Guy, and so his consent was granted, and Maddy was soon on her way to Aikenside, which presented a gayer, busier appearance than she had seen there before. Jessie was wild with delight, dragging forth at once the pink dress which she was to wear, and whispering to Maddy that Guy had bought a blue silk for her, and that Sarah Jones was at that moment fashioning it after a dress left there by Maddy the previous summer.
“Mother said plain white muslin was more appropriate for a young girl, but brother Guy said no; the blue silk would be useful after the party; it was what you needed; and so he bought it and paid two dollars a yard, but it’s a secret until you are called to try it on. Isn’t Guy splendid?”
He was indeed splendid. Maddy thought, wondering why he was so kind to her, and if it would be so when Lucy came. The dress fitted admirably, though Maddy thought her grandfather would say it was too low in the neck, but Sarah overruled her objections, assisted by Guy, who, when the dress was complete and tried on for the last time, was called in by Jessie to see if “Maddy must have a piece sewed on, as she suggested.” The neck was au fait, Guy said, laughing at Maddy for being so old-maidish, and saying when he saw how really distressed she seemed, that he would provide her with something to relieve the bareness of which she complained.
“Oh, I know, I saw, I peeked in the box,” Jessie began, but Guy put his hand over the little tattler’s mouth, bidding her keep the result of her peeking to herself.
And for once Jessie succeeded in doing so, although she several times set Maddy to guessing what it was Guy had for her in a box! As the size of the box was not mentioned, Maddy had fully made up her mind to a shawl or scarf, and was proportionately disappointed when, as she was dressing for the party, there was sent up to her room a small round box, scarcely large enough to hold an apple, much less a small scarf. The present proved to be a pair of plain but heavy bracelets, and a most exquisitely wrought chain of gold, to which was appended a beautiful pearl cross, the whole accompanied with the words, “From Guy.”
Jessie was in ecstacies again. Clasping the ornaments on Maddy’s neck and arms, she danced around her, declaring there never was anything more beautiful, or anybody so pretty as Maddy was in her party dress. Maddy was fond of jewelry—and felt a flush of gratified pride, or vanity, or satisfaction, whichever one chooses to call it, as she glanced at herself in the mirror and remembered the time when, riding with the doctor, she had met Mrs. Agnes, with golden bracelets flashing on her arms, and wished she might one day wear something like them. The day had come sooner than she had anticipated, but Maddy was not so happy in possession of the coveted ornaments as she had thought she should be. It seemed to her that Guy ought not to have given them to her, that it was improper for her to keep them, and that both Mrs. Noah and Agnes thought so, too. She wished she knew exactly what was right; and then, remembering that Guy had said the doctor was expected early, she decided to ask his opinion on the subject and abide by it.
At first Agnes had cared but little about the party, affecting to despise the people in their immediate neighborhood; but her spirits rose at last; and when her toilet was completed, she shone resplendent in lace and diamonds and curls, managing to retain through all a certain simplicity of dress appropriate to the hostess. But beautiful as Agnes was, she felt in her jealous heart that there was about Maddy Clyde an attraction she did not possess. Guy saw it too, and while complimenting his pretty mother-in-law, kept his eyes fixed admiringly on Maddy, who started him into certain unpleasant remembrances by asking if the doctor had come yet.
“No—yes—there he is now;” and Guy looked into the hall, where the doctor’s voice was heard inquiring for him.
“I want to see him a minute, alone, please. There’s something I wish to ask him.” And, unmindful of Agnes’s darkened frown, or Guy’s look of wonder, Maddy darted from the room, and ran hastily down to the hall where the doctor stood, waiting for Guy, not for her.
He had not expected to meet her thus, or to see her thus, and the sight of her, grown so tall, so womanly and beautiful, almost took his breath away. And yet, as he stood with her hand in his, and surveyed her from head to foot, he felt that he would rather have her as she was when a dainty frill shaded her pale, wasted face, when the snowy ruffle was fastened high about her throat, and the cotton bands were buttoned about her wrists, where golden ones now were shining. The doctor had never forgotten Maddy as she was then, the very embodiment, he thought, of helpless purity. The little sick girl, so dear to him then, was growing away from him now; and these adornings, which marked the budding woman, seemed to remove her from him and place her nearer to Guy, whose bride should wear silk and jewels, just as Maddy did.