The doctor was in no mood for joking, and only smiled gloomily, while
Guy continued: "Honestly, doctor, I am doing it for you. I imagine you fancy her, as
well you may. She'll make a splend'd woman, but she needs educating,
of course, and I am going to do it. You ought to thank me, instead of
looking so like a thundercloud," and Guy laughed merrily.
The doctor was ashamed of his mood, and could not tell what spirit
prompted him to answer: "I am obliged to you, Guy; but as far as I am concerned, you may spare
yourself the trouble. If my wife needs educating, I can do it myself."
Guy was puzzled. Could it be that, after all, he was deceived, and the
doctor did not care for Maddy? It might be, and he hastened to change
the conversation to another topic than Maddy Clyde. The doctor stayed
to dinner, and as Guy watched him closely, he made up his mind that he
did care for Maddy Clyde, and this confirmed him in his plan of
educating her for him.
Magnanimous Guy! He felt himself very good, very generous, very
condescending, and very forgiving, the early portion of the afternoon;
but later in the day he began to view Guy Remington in the light of a
martyr, said martyrdom consisting in the scornful toss of the head
with which Agnes had listened to his plan, and the open opposition of
Mrs. Noah.
"Was he beside himself, or what?" this worthy asked. "She liked Maddy
Clyde, to be sure, but it wasn't for him to demean himself by turning
her school master. Folks would talk awfully, and she couldn't blame
'em; besides, what would Lucy say to his bein' alone in a room with a
girl as pretty as Maddy? It was a duty he owed her at any rate to tell
her all about it, and if she said 'twas right, why, go it."
This was the drift of Mrs. Noah's remarks, and as Guy depended much on
her judgment, he decided to write to Lucy to see if she had the
slightest objections to his teaching Maddy Clyde. Accordingly he wrote
that very night, telling her frankly all he knew concerning Maddy
Clyde, and narrating the circumstances under which he first had met
her, being careful also to repeat what he knew would have weight with
an English girl like Lucy, to wit, that though poor, Maddy's father
and grandfather Clyde had been gentlemen, the one a clergyman, the
other a sea captain. Then he told of her desire for learning, and his
plan to teach her himself, of what the doctor and Mrs. Noah said about
it, and his final determination to consult her. Then he described
Maddy herself, feeling a strange thrill as he told how pure, how
innocent, how artless and beautiful she was, and asked if Lucy feared
aught from his association with her.