"Yes, I should; and I am not certain but you do as it is, Guy," and
the doctor grew very earnest in his manner, "if you do care for Maddy
Clyde, and she for you, pray tell me so before I make a fool of
myself."
"Doctor," returned Guy, throwing the remains of his cigar into the
grate and folding his hands on his head, "you desire that I be frank,
and I will. I like Maddy Clyde very much--more indeed than any girl I
ever met--except Lucy. Had I never seen her--Lucy, I mean--I cannot
tell how I should feel toward Maddy. The chances are, however, that
much as I admire her, I should not make her my wife, even if she were
willing. But I have seen Lucy. I am engaged to be married. I shall
keep that engagement, and if you have feared me at all as a rival, you
may fear me no longer. I do not stand between you and Maddy Clyde."
Guy believed that he was saying the truth, notwithstanding that his
heart beat faster than its wont and his voice was a little thick. It
was doubtful whether he would marry Maddy Clyde, if he could. By
nature and education he was very proud, and the inmates of the red
cottage would have been an obstacle to be surmounted by his pride. He
knew they were good, far, far better than himself; but, from his
earliest remembrance, he had been taught that blood and family and
position were all-important; that by virtue of them Remington was a
name of which to be proud; that his father's foolish marriage with a
pretty governess was the first misalliance ever known in the family,
and that he was not likely to follow that example was a point fully
established in his own mind. He might admire Maddy very much, and,
perhaps, build castles of what might possibly have been, had she been
in his sphere of life; but, should he verily think of making her his
wife, the olden pride would certainly come up a barrier between them.
Guy could not explain all this to the doctor, who would have been
tempted to knock him down, if he had; but he succeeded in quieting his
fears, and even suggested bringing Maddy in there, if the doctor
wished to know his fate that morning.
"I hear her now--I'll call her," he said; and, opening the door, he
spoke to Maddy, just passing through the hall. "Dr. Holbrook wishes to
see you," he said, as Maddy came up to him; and, holding the door for
her to enter, he saw her take the seat he had just vacated. Then,
closing it upon them, he walked away, thinking that last night's
party, or something, had produced a bad effect on him, making him blue
and wretched, just as he should suppose a criminal would feel when
about to be executed.