Maddy's heart did fail her sometimes, and she might have yielded to
the temptation but for Lucy's letter, full of eager anticipations of
the time when she should see Guy never to part again.
"Sometimes," she wrote, "there comes over me a dark foreboding of
evil--a fear that I shall miss the cup now within my reach; but I pray
the bad feelings away. I am sure there is no living being who will
come between us to break my heart, and as I know God doeth all things
well, I trust Him wholly, and cease to doubt."
It was well the letter came when it did, as it helped Maddy to meet
the hour she so much dreaded, and which came at last on an afternoon
when Mrs. Noah had gone to Aikenside, and Flora had gone on an errand
to a neighbor's, two miles away, thus leaving Guy free to tell the
story, the old, old story, yet always new to him who tells it and her
who listens--story which, as Guy told it, sitting by Maddy's side,
with her hands in his, thrilled her through and through, making the
sweat drops start out around her lips and underneath her hair--story
which made Guy himself pant nervously and tremble like a leaf, so
earnestly he told it; told how long he had loved her, of the picture
withheld, the jealousy he felt each time the doctor named her, the
selfish joy he experienced when he heard the doctor was refused; told
of his growing dissatisfaction with his engagement, his frequent
resolves to break it, his final decision, which that scene in the
graveyard had reversed, and then asked if she would not be his--not
doubtfully, but confidently, eagerly, as if sure of her answer.
Alas for Guy! he could not believe he heard aright when, turning her
head away for a moment while she prayed for strength, Maddy's answer
came, "I cannot, Guy, I cannot. I acknowledge the love which has
stolen upon me, I know not how, but I cannot do this wrong to Lucy.
Away from me you will love her again. You must. Read this, Guy, then
say if you can desert her."
She placed Lucy's letter in his hand, and Guy read it with a heart
which ached to its very core. It was cruel to deceive that gentle,
trusting girl writing so lovingly of him, but to lose Maddy was to his
undisciplined nature more dreadful still, and casting the letter aside
he pleaded again, this time with the energy of despair, for he read
his fate in Maddy's face, and when her lips a second time confirmed
her first reply, while she appealed to his sense of honor, of justice,
of right, and told him he could and must forget her, he knew there was
no hope, and man though he was, bowed his head upon Maddy's hands and
wept stormily, mighty, choking sobs, which shook his frame, and seemed
to break up the very fountains of his life. Then to Maddy there came a
terrible temptation. Was it right for two who loved as they did to
live their lives apart?--right in her to force on Guy the fulfillment
of vows he could not literally keep? As mental struggles are always
the more severe, so Maddy's took all her strength away, and for many
minutes she lay so white and still that Guy roused himself to care for
her, thinking of nothing then except to make her better.