Going to the table she opened her portfolio, the gift of Guy, and wrote to him what the neighbors were saying, and that he must come there no more; at least, only once in a great while, because, if he did, she could not see him. Then, when this was written she went down to Uncle Joseph, who was beginning to call for her, and sat by him as usual, singing to him the songs he loved so well, and which this night pleased him especially, because the voice which sang them was so plaintive, so full of woe. Would he never go to sleep, or the hand which held hers so firmly relax its hold? Never, it seemed to Maddy, who sat and sang, while the night-bird on a distant tree, awakened by the low song, uttered a responsive note, and the hours crept on to midnight. Human nature could endure no more, and when the crazy man said to her, “Now sing of Him who died on Calvary,” Maddy’s answer was a gaping cry as she fell fainting on the pillow. “It was only a nervous headache,” she said to the frightened Flora, who came at Uncle Joseph’s call, and helped her young mistress up to bed. “She should be better in the morning, and she would rather be alone.” So Flora left her, but went often to her door, until assured by the low breathing sound that Maddy was sleeping at last. It was a heavy sleep, and when Maddy awoke the pain in her temples was still there; she could not rise, and was half glad that she could not, inasmuch as her illness would be a reason why she could not see Guy if he came. She did not know he was there already, until she heard his voice speaking to her grandfather. It was later than she imagined, and he had ridden down early because he could not stay away. “I can’t see him, Flora,” Maddy said, when the latter came up with the message that Mr. Remington was there with his buggy, and asked if a little ride would not do her good. “I can’t see him, but give him this,” and she placed in Flora’s hand the note, baptized with so many tears and prayers, and the contents of which made Guy furious; not at her, but at the neighbors, the inquisitive, ignorant, meddlesome neighbors, who had dared to talk of him, or to breathe a suspicious word against Maddy Clyde. He would make them sorry for it; they should take back every word; and they should beg Maddy’s forgiveness for the pain they had caused her.