There was genuine sympathy in that little voice, and it opened the pent-up flood beating so furiously, and roused Maddy’s heart. With a cry as of sudden pain she clasped the child in her arms and wept out a wild, stormy fit of weeping which did her so much good. Forgetting that Jessie could not understand, and feeling it a relief to tell her grief to some one, she said, in reply to Jessie’s oft repeated inquiries as to what was the matter: “I did not get a certificate, and I wanted it so much, for we are poor, and our house is mortgaged, and I was going to help grandpa pay it.” “It’s dreadful to be poor!” sighed little Jessie, as her waxen fingers threaded the soft, nut-brown hair resting in her lap, where Maddy had lain her aching head. Maddy did not know who this beautiful child was, but her sympathy was very sweet, and they talked together as children will, until Mrs. Agnes’ voice was heard calling to her little girl that it was time to go. “I love you, Maddy, and I mean to tell brother about it,” Jessie said, as she wound her arms around Madeline’s neck and kissed her at parting. It never occurred to Maddy to ask her name, so stupified she felt, and with a responsive kiss she sent her away. Leaning her head upon the table, she forgot all but her own wretchedness, and so did not see the gayly-dressed, haughty-looking lady who swept past the door, accompanied by Guy and Dr. Holbrook. Neither did she hear, or notice, if she did, the hum of their voices as they talked together for a moment, Agnes asking the doctor very prettily to come up to Aikenside while she was there, and bring his ladylove. Engaged young men like Guy were so stupid, she said, as with a merry laugh she sprang into the carriage; and, bowing gracefully to the doctor, was driven rapidly toward Aikenside. Rather slowly the doctor returned to the office, and after fidgeting for a time among the powders and phials, summoned courage to ask Madeline how she felt, and if any of the fainting symptoms had returned. “No, sir,” was all the reply she gave him, never lifting up her head, or even thinking which of the two young men it was speaking to her. There was a call just then for Dr. Holbrook, and leaving his office in charge of Tom, his chore boy, he went away, feeling slightly uncomfortable whenever he thought of the girl to whom he felt that justice had not been done. “I half wish I had examined her myself,” he said. “Of course she was excited, and could not answer; beside, hanged if I don’t believe it was all humbug tormenting her with Greek and Latin. Yes; I’ll question her when I get back, and if she’ll possibly pass, give her the certificate. Poor child; how white she was, and what a queer look there was in those great eyes, when she said: ‘I shall not take it.’”