Guy had left no orders for any changes to be made at Aikenside; but Agnes, who was largely imbued with a love of bustle and repair, had insisted that at least the suite of rooms intended for the bride should be thoroughly renovated with new paper and paint, carpets and furniture. This plan Mrs. Noah opposed, for she guessed how little Guy would care for the change; but Agnes was resolved, and as she had great faith in Maddy’s taste, she insisted that she should go to Aikenside, and pass her judgment upon the improvements. It would do her good, she said—little dreaming how much it cost Maddy to comply with her wishes, or how fearfully the poor, crushed heart ached, as Maddy went through the handsome rooms intended for Guy’s young bride; but Mrs. Noah guessed it all, and pitied the white-faced girl, whose deep mourning robes told the loss of dear ones by death, but gave no token of that great loss, tenfold worse than death. “It was wicked in her to fetch you here,” she said to Maddy one day when in Lucy’s room she found her sitting upon the floor, with her head bowed down upon the window-sill. “But she’s a triflin’ thing, and didn’t know ’twould kill you, poor child, poor Maddy!” and Mrs. Noah laid her hand kindly on Maddy’s hair. “Maybe you’d better go home,” she continued, as Maddy made no reply; “it must be hard, to be here in the rooms, and among the things which by good rights should be yours.” “No, Mrs. Noah,” and Maddy’s voice was strangely unnatural, as she lifted up her head, revealing a face so haggard and white that Mrs. Noah was frightened, and asked in much alarm if anything new had happened. “No, nothing; I was going to say that I’d rather stay a little longer where there are signs and sounds of life. I should die to be alone at Honedale to-morrow. I may die here, I don’t know. Do you know that to-morrow will be the bridal?” Yes, Mrs. Noah knew it; but she hoped it might have escaped Maddy’s mind. “Poor child,” she said again, “poor child, I mistrust you did wrong to tell him No!” “Oh, Mrs. Noah, don’t say that; don’t make it harder for me to bear. The tempter has been telling me so, all day, and my heart is so hard and wicked, I cannot pray as I would. Oh, you don’t knew how wretched I am!” and Maddy hid her face in the broad, motherly lap, sobbing so wildly that Mrs. Noah was greatly perplexed how to act, or what to say. Years ago, she would have spurned the thought that the grandchild of the old man who had bowed to his own picture, should be mistress of Aikenside; but now, could she have had her way, she would have stopped the marriage, and, bringing her boy home, have given him to the young girl weeping so bitterly in her lap. But Mrs. Noah could not have her way. The bridal guests were, even then, assembling in that home beyond the sea. She could not call Guy back, and so she pitied and caressed the wretched Maddy, saying to her, at last: