CHAPTER VII. THE DRIVE. Latterly the doctor had taken to driving in his buggy, and when Maddy was strong enough he took her with him one day, himself adjusting the shawl which grandma wrapped around her, and pulling a little farther on the white sunbonnet which shaded the sweet, pale face, where the roses were just beginning to bloom again. The doctor was very happy that morning, and so, too, was Maddy, talking to him upon the theme of which she never tired, Guy Remington, Jessie and Aikenside. Was it as beautiful a place as she had heard it was, and didn’t he think it would be delightful to live there? “I suppose Mr. Guy will be bringing a wife there some day when he finds one,” and leaning back in the buggy Maddy heaved a little sigh, not at thoughts of Guy Remington’s wife, but because she began to feel tired, and thus gave vent to her weariness. The doctor, however, did not so construe it. He heard the sigh, and for the first time when listening to her as she talked of Guy, a keen throb of pain shot through his heart, a something as near akin to jealousy as it was possible for him then to feel. But all unused as he was to the workings of love he did not at that moment dream of such an emotion in connection with Madeline Clyde. He only knew that something affected him unpleasantly, prompting him, for some reason, to tell Maddy Clyde about Lucy Atherstone, who, in all probability, would one day come to Aikenside as its mistress. “Yes, Guy will undoubtedly marry,” he began, just as over the top of the easy hill they were ascending horses’ heads were visible, and the Aikenside carriage appeared in view. “There he is now,” he exclaimed, adding quickly: “No, I am mistaken, there’s only a lady inside. It must be Agnes.” It was Agnes driving out alone, for the sole purpose of passing a place which had a singular attraction for her, the old, red cottage in Honedale. She recognized the doctor, and guessed whom he had with him, Putting up her glass, for which she had no more need than Jessie, she scrutinized the little figure bundled up in shawls, while she smiled her sweetest smile upon the doctor, showing to good advantage her white teeth, and shaking back her wealth of curls with the air and manner of a young coquettish girl. “Oh, what a handsome lady! Who is she?” Maddy asked, turning to look after the carriage now swiftly descending the hill. “That was Jessie’s mother, Mrs. Agnes Remington,” the doctor replied. “She’ll feel flattered with your compliment.” “I did not mean to flatter. I said what I thought. She is handsome, beautiful, and so young, too. Was that a gold bracelet which flashed so on her arm?” The doctor presumed it was, though he had not noticed. Gold bracelets were not new to him as they were to Maddy, who continued: “I wonder if I’ll ever wear a bracelet like that?”