CHAPTER XVI.
THE DOCTOR AND MADDY.
Now that they were alone, the doctor’s courage forsook him, and he could only stammer out some common-place remarks about the party, asking how Maddy had enjoyed it, and if she was sure she had entirely recovered from the effects of her fainting fit. He was not getting on at all, and it was impossible for him to say anything as he had meant to say it. Why couldn’t she help him, instead of looking so unsuspiciously at him with those large, bright eyes? Didn’t she know how dear she was to him? He should think she might. She ought to have divined it ere this; and if so, why didn’t she blush, or do something?
At last she came to his aid by saying, “You promised to tell me about the bracelets and necklace, whether I ought to keep them.”
“Yes, oh, yes, I believe I did.” And getting up from his chair, the doctor began to walk the floor, the better to hide his confusion. “Yes, the bracelets. You looked very pretty in them, Maddy, very; but you are always pretty—ahem—yes. If you were engaged to Guy, I should say it was proper; but if not, why, I don’t know; the fact is, Maddy, I am not quite certain what I’m saying, so you must excuse me. I almost hated you that day you sent the note, telling me you were coming to be examined; but I had not seen you then. I did not know how, after a while—a very little while—I should in all probability—well, I did; I changed my mind, and I—I guess you have not the slightest idea what I mean.” And stopping suddenly, he confronted the astonished Maddy, who replied:
“Not the slightest, unless you are going crazy.”
She could in no other way account for his strange conduct, and she sat staring at him while he continued:
“I told you once that when I wanted my bill I’d let you know. I’d ask for pay. I want it now. I present my bill.”
With a scared, miserable feeling, Maddy listened to him, wondering where she could get the money, if it were possible for her grandfather to raise it, and how much her entire wardrobe would bring, suppose she should sell it! The bill had not troubled her latterly, for she had fallen into a way of believing that the doctor would wait until she was graduated and could earn it by teaching. Nothing could be more inopportune than for him to present it now; and with a half-stifled sob she began to speak, but he silenced her by a gesture, and sitting down beside her, said, in a voice more natural than the one with which he had at first addressed her:
“Maddy, I know you have no money. It is not that I want, Maddy; I want—I want—you.”