Instantly Maddy’s face flushed with nervous dread, as she thought, “What if I should fail?” fancying that to do so would be an eternal disgrace. But she should not fail. She was called by everybody the very best scholar in the Honedale school, the one whom the teachers always put forward when desirous of showing off, the one whom Mr. Tiverton, and Squire Lamb, and Lawyer Whittemore always noticed and praised so much. Of course she should not fail, though she _did_ dread Dr. Holbrook, wondering much what he would ask her first, and hoping it would be something in arithmetic, provided he did not stumble upon decimals, where she was apt to get bewildered. She had no fears of grammar. She could pick out the most obscure sentence and dissect a double relative with perfect ease; then, as to geography, she could repeat whole pages of that; while in the spelling-book, the foundation of a thorough education, as she had been taught, she had no superiors, and but few equals. Still, she would be very glad when it was over, and she appointed Monday, both because it was close at hand, and because that was the day her grandfather had set in which to ride to Aikenside, in an adjoining town, and ask its young master for the loan of three hundred dollars. He could hardly tell why he had thought of applying to Guy Remington for help, unless it were that he once had saved the life of Guy’s father, who, as long as he lived, had evinced a great regard for his benefactor, frequently asserting that he meant to do something for him. But the something was never done, the father was dead, and in his strait the old man turned to the son, whom he knew to be very rich, and who, he had been told, was exceedingly generous. “How I wish I could go with you clear up to Aikenside! They say it’s so beautiful,” Madeline had said, as on Saturday evening they sat discussing the expected events of the following Monday. “Mrs. Noah, the housekeeper, had Sarah Jones there once, to sew, and she told me all about it. There are graveled walks, and nice green lawns, and big, tall trees, and flowers—oh! so many!—and marble fountains, with gold fishes in the basin; and statues, big as folks, all over the yard, with two brass lions on the gate-posts. But the house is finest of all. There’s a drawing-room bigger than a ball-room, with carpets that let your feet sink in so far; pictures and mirrors clear to the floor—think of that, grandpa! a looking-glass so tall that one can see the very bottom of her dress and know just how it hangs. Oh, I do so wish I could have a peep at it! There are two in one room, and the windows are like doors, with lace curtains; but what is queerest of all, the chairs and sofas are covered with real silk, just like that funny gored gown of grandma’s up in the oak chest. Dear me! I wonder if I’ll ever live in such a place as Aikenside?”