"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 hardly is 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 were very becoming, he said. She would not look as well without
them; so she had better wear them to-night, and to-morrow, if she
would grant him an interview, he would talk with her further.
Dissembling doctor! He said all this to gain the desired interview
with Maddy, the 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 golden hair, came in for a full
share of attention. But amid the gay throng there was none so fair or
so beautiful as Maddy, who deported herself with as much ease and
grace as if she had all her life long 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.