Aikenside

Then turning to Agnes he made some inquiries as to the plans proposed

by the Laurie's, ascertaining that Agnes' plan was as follows: He

should invite her to go with him to Saratoga, or Newport, or both, and

that Jessie meantime should remain at Aikenside, just as she wished to

do.

Guy could not find much pleasure in escorting Agnes to a fashionable

watering place, particularly as he was, of course, expected to pay the

bills, but he sometimes did unselfish things; and as he had not been

very gracious to her on the occasion of her last visit to Aikenside,

he decided to martyr himself and go to Saratoga. But who would care

for Jessie? She must not be left wholly with the servants. A governess

of some kind must be provided, and he was about speaking of this to

Agnes, when the doctor was announced, and the conversation turned into

another channel. Agnes Remington would not have confessed bow much she

was interested in Dr. Holbrook. Indeed, only that morning in reply to

a joking remark made to her by Guy, she had petulantly exclaimed: "The idea of my caring for him, except as a friend and physician. Why,

he must be younger than I am, or at most about my age. A mere boy, as

it were."

And yet, in making her toilet that afternoon, she had arranged every

part of her dress with direct reference to the "mere boy," her heart

beating faster every time she remembered the white sunbonnet and the

Scotch plaid shawl she had seen beside him in the drive that morning.

Little Maddy Clyde would hardly have credited the story had she been

told that the beautiful lady from Aikenside was positively jealous of

Dr. Holbrook's attentions to herself; yet so it was, and the jealousy

was all the more bitter when she remembered who Madeline was, and how

startled that aged couple of the red cottage would be, could they know

who she was. But they did not; she was quite sure of that; and so she

had ventured to pass their door, her heart throbbing with a strange

sensation as the old waymarks came in view, waymarks which she

remembered so well, and around which so many sad memories were

clustering. Agnes was not all bad. Indeed, she was scarcely worse than

most vain, selfish fashionable women; and all that day, since her

return from riding, haunting, remorseful thoughts of the long ago had

been clinging to her, making her more anxious to leave that

neighborhood for a time at least, and in scenes of gayety forget, if

possible, that such things as broken vows or broken hearts existed.