“Now, tell me why you are crying so?” he said, brushing from her silk apron the spot of dirt which had settled upon it. “Are you homesick?” he continued, and then Maddy burst out again. She forgot that he was a stranger, forgot everything except that he sympathized with her. “Oh, sir,” she sobbed, “I was so happy here till they came home, Mrs. Remington and Mr. Guy. I never thought it was a disgrace to be a governess; never heard it was so considered, or that I was not good enough to eat with them till she told me this. Oh, dear, dear!” and choked with tears Maddy stopped a moment to take breath. She did not look up at the young man beside her, and it was well she did not, for the dark expression of his face would have frightened her. Half guessing the truth, and impatient to hear more, he said to her: “Go on,” so sternly, that she started, and replied: “I know you are angry with me and I ought not to have told you.” “I am not angry—not at you at least—go on,” was Guy’s reply, and Maddy continued: “She told me that now they had come home it would be different, that only when invited must I come to the parlor, or anywhere, but must stay in the servants’ part, and eat with Mrs. Noah and Sarah. I’d just as soon do that. I am no better than they, only, only—the way she told me made me feel so mean, as if I was not anybody, when I am,” and here Maddy’s pride began to rise. “I’m just as good as she, if grandpa is poor, and I won’t stay here to be treated like a nigger by her and Mr. Guy. I liked him so much too, because he was kind to grandpa and to me when I was sick. Yes, I did like him so much.” “And how is it now?” Guy asked, wondering who in the world she thought he was. “How is it now?” “I s’pose it’s wicked to feel such things on Sunday, but, somehow, what she said keeps making me so bad that I know I hate her, and I guess I hate Mr. Guy!” This was Maddy’s answer, spoken deliberately, while she looked up at the young man, who, with a comical expression about his mouth, answered back: “I am Mr. Guy.” “You, you! Oh, I can’t bear it! I will die!” and Maddy sprang up as quickly as if feeling an electric shock. But Guy’s arm was interposed to stop her, and Guy’s arm held her back, while he asked where she was going. “Anywhere, out of sight where you can never see me again,” Maddy sobbed vehemently. “It is bad enough to have you think me a fool, as you must; but now, oh what do you think of me?” “Nothing bad, I assure you,” Guy said, still holding her wrist to keep her there. “I supposed you knew who I was, but as you did not, I forgive you for hating me so cordially. If you thought I sanctioned what Mrs. Remington has said to you, you had cause to dislike me, but Miss Clyde, I do not, and this is the first intimation I have had that you were to be treated other than as a lady. I am master of Aikenside, not Mrs. Agnes, who shall be made to understand it.”