She was very glad to see him, she said, asking in the same breath why he had not been to the cottage, if she had not grown tall, and if he thought her improved with living in a city?
“One question at a time, if you please,” he said, drawing her a little more into the shadow of the hall, where they would be less observed by any one passing through it.
Maddy did not wait for him to answer, so eager was she to unburden her mind and know if she ought to keep the costly presents, at which she knew he was looking.
“If he remembers his unpaid bill, he must consider me mighty mean,” she thought; and then, with her usual frankness, she told him of the perplexity, and asked his opinion.
“It would displease Mr. Guy very much if I were to give them back,” she said; “but it is hardly right for me to accept them, is it?”
The doctor did not say she ought not to wear the ornaments, though he longed to tear them from her arms and neck and throw them anywhere, he cared not where, so they freed her wholly from Guy.
“They are very becoming,” he said. “You would not look as well without them; so you had better wear them to-night, and to-morrow, if you will grant me an interview, I will talk with you further.”
He said all this to gain the desired interview for which Guy was to prepare her. That he had not done so he felt assured, but he could not be angry with him, as he came smilingly toward them, asking if they had talked privacy long enough, and glancing rather curiously at Maddy’s face. There was nothing in its expression to disturb him, and, offering her his arm, he led her back to the drawing-rooms, where Agnes was smoothing down the folds of her dress, preparatory to receiving the guests just descending the stairs. It was a brilliant scene which Aikenside presented that night, and amid it all Agnes bore herself like a queen; while Jessie, with her sunny face and flowing hair, came in for a full share of attention. But amid the gay throng there was none so fair or beautiful as Maddy, who deported herself with as much ease and grace as if she had all her life been accustomed to just such occasions as this. At a distance the doctor watched her, telling several who she was, and once resenting, by both look and manner, a remark made by Maria Cutler, to the effect that she was nobody but Mrs. Remington’s governess, a poor girl whom Guy had taken a fancy to educate out of charity.
“He seems very fond of his charity pupil, upon my word. He scarcely leaves her neighborhood at all,” whispered old Mrs. Cutler, the mother of Maria, who, Guy said, once fancied Dr. Holbrook, and who had no particular objections to fancying him now, provided it could be reciprocal.
But the doctor was only intent on Maddy, knowing always just where she was standing, just who was talking to her, and just how far from her Guy was. He knew, too, when the latter was urging her to sing; and, managing to get nearer, heard her object that no one cared to hear her.