From the first Uncle Joseph had taken to Jessie, calling her Sarah for
a while, and then changing the name to "Daisy"--"Daisy Mortimer, his
little girl," he persisted in calling her, watching from his window
for her coming, and crying whenever Maddy appeared without her. At
first Agnes, from her city home, forbade Jessie's going so often to
see a lunatic; but when Jessie described the poor, crazy man's delight
at sight of her, telling how quiet and happy he seemed if he could but
lay his hand on her head, or touch her hair, she withdrew her
restrictions, and, as if moved to an unwonted burst of tenderness,
wrote to her daughter: "Comfort that crazy man all you can; he needs
it so much."
A few weeks after there came another letter from Agnes, but this time
it was to Guy, and its contents darkened his handsome face with anger
and vexation. Incidentally Agnes had heard the gossip, and written it
to Guy, adding in conclusion: "Of course I know it is not true, for
ever if there were no Lucy Atherstone, you, of all men, would not
stoop to Maddy Clyde. I do not presume to advise, but I will say this,
that now she is growing a young lady, folks will keep on talking so
long as you keep her there in the house; and it's hardly fair toward
Lucy."
This was what knotted up Guy's forehead and made him, as Jessie said,
"real cross for once." Somehow, he fancied, latterly, that the doctor
did not like Maddy's being there, while even Mrs. Noah managed to keep
her out of his way as soon as the lessons were ended. What did they
mean? what were they afraid of, and why did they presume to interfere
with him? he'd know, at all events; and summoning Mrs. Noah to his
presence, he read that part of Agnes' letter, pertaining to Maddy, and
then asked what it meant.
"It means this, that folks are in a constant worry, for fear you'll
fall in love with Maddy Clyde."
"I fall in love with that child!" Guy repeated, laughing at the idea,
and forgetting that he had long since, accused the doctor of doing
that very thing.
"Yes, you," returned Mrs. Noah, "and 'taint strange they do; Maddy is
not a child: she's nearer sixteen than fifteen, is almost a young
lady; and if you'll excuse my boldness, I must say, I ain't any too
well pleased with the goin's on myself; not that I don't like the
girl, for I do, and I don't blame her an atom. She's as innocent as a
new-born babe, and I hope she'll always stay so; but you, Mr. Guy,
you--now tell me honest--do you think as much of Lucy Atherstone, as
you used to, before you took up school-keepin'?"