In his earnestness he grasped her arm, as if he thus would hold her,
while the tears rained over his wrinkled face. For a moment Maddy made
no response. She had no intention of leaving him, but the burden was
pressing heavily and her tongue refused to move. Maddy was then a
stranger to the religion which was sustaining her grandfather in his
great trouble, but the teachings of her childhood had not been in vain.
She was God’s covenant child. His protecting presence was over and
around her, moving her to the right. New York, with its gay sights, her
school, where in another year she was to graduate, the trip to the
Catskills which Guy had promised Mrs. Agnes, Jessie and herself,
Aikenside with its luxurious ease—all these must be given up, while,
worse than all the rest, Guy, too, must be given up. He would not come
there often; the place was not to his taste, and in time he would cease
to care for her as he cared for her now. “Oh, that would be dreadful!”
she groaned aloud, while here thoughts went backward to that night ride
in the snowstorm, and the numberless attentions he had paid her then.
She would never ride with him again—never; and Maddy moaned bitterly,
as she began to realize for the first time how much she liked Guy
Remington, and how the giving him up and his society was the hardest
part of all. But Maddy had a brave young heart, and at last, winding
her arms around her grandfather’s neck, she whispered: “I will not
leave you, grandpa. I’ll stay in grandmother’s place.”
Surely Heaven would answer the blessings whispered over Maddy by the
delighted old man, and the young girl taking so cheerfully the burden
from which many would have shrunk, should be blessed by God.
With her grandfather’s hand upon her head, Maddy could almost feel that
the blessing was descending; but when, in her own room, the one where
she had lain sick for so many weary weeks, her courage began to give
way, and the burden, magnified tenfold by her nervous weakness, looked
heavier than she could bear. How could she stay there, going through
each day with the same routine of literal drudgery—drudgery which would
not end until the two for whom she made the sacrifice were dead.
“Oh, is there no way of escape, no help?” she moaned, as she tossed
from side to side, “Must my life be wasted here. Surely—-”
Maddy did not finish the sentence, for something checked the words of
repining, and she seemed to hear again her grandfather’s voice as it
repeated the promise to those who keep with their whole souls the fifth
commandment.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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