Governesses -- Fiction; Love stories; New England -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
“Maddy,” he said, “I felt like a heartless wretch—a most consummate
hypocrite—as, standing by Lucy’s side, I met the fond, pitying glance of
her blue eyes, and suffered the poor little hand to part my hair as she
tried to comfort me, even though every word she uttered was shortening
her life; tried to comfort me, the wretch who was there so unwillingly,
and who at this prospect of release hardly knew at first whether he was
more sorry than glad. You may well start from me in horror, Maddy. I was
just the wretch I describe; but I overcame it, Maddy, and Heaven is my
witness that no thought of you intruded itself upon me afterwards as I
stood by my dying Lucy. I saw how good, how sweet she was, and something
of the old love came back to me, as I held her in my arms, where she
wished to be. I would have saved her if I could: and when I called her
‘my darling Lucy’ they were not idle words. I kissed her many times for
myself, and once, Maddy, for you. She told me to do so. She whispered,
‘Kiss me, Guy, for Maddy Clyde. Tell her I’d rather she should take my
place than anybody else—rather my Guy should call her wife—for I know
she would not be jealous if you sometimes talked of your dead Lucy, and
I know she will help lead you to that blessed home where sorrow never
comes.’ That was the last she ever spoke, and when the sun went down
death had claimed my bride. She died in my arms, Maddy. I felt the last
fluttering of her pulse, the last beat of her heart. I laid her back
upon her pillows. I wiped the blood from her lips and from her golden
curls. I followed her to her early grave. I saw her buried from my
sight, and then, Maddy, I started home; thoughts of you and thoughts of
Lucy blended equally together until Aikenside was reached. I talked with
Mrs. Noah; I heard all of you there was to tell, and then I talked with
Agnes, who was not greatly surprised, and did not oppose my coming here
to-night. I could not remain there, knowing you were here alone, even
though some old fogies might say it was not proper—God knows what is in
my heart. In the bridal chamber I found your bouquet, with its ‘Welcome
to the Bride.’ Maddy, you must be that bride. Lucy sanctioned it, and
the doctor, too, for I told him all. His own wedding was, of course,
deferred, and he did not come home with me, but he said ‘Tell Maddy not
to wait. Life is too short to waste any happiness. She has my blessing.’
And, Maddy, it must be so. Aikenside needs a mistress; you are all
alone. You are mine—mine forever!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account