This note Maddy read and re-read until she knew it by heart, especially the part relating to Guy. Hitherto she had not particularly liked her name, greatly preferring that it should have been Eliza Ann, or Sarah Jane; but the knowing that Guy Remington fancied it made a vast difference, and did much toward reconciling her. She did not even notice the clause, “and the doctor too.” His attentions and likings she took as a matter of course, so quietly and so constantly had they been given. The day was very long now which did not bring him to the cottage; but she missed him much as she would have missed her brother, if she had had one, though her pulse always quickened and her cheeks glowed when she heard him at the gate. The motive-power did not lie deeper than a great friendliness for one who had been instrumental in saving her life. They had talked over the matter of her examination more than once, the doctor blaming himself more than was necessary for his ignorance as to what was required of a teacher; but when she asked _who_ was his proxy, he always answered evasively: “A friend from Boston.” And this he did to shield Guy, who he knew was enshrined in the little maiden’s heart as a paragon of all excellence. CHAPTER VII. THE DRIVE. Latterly the doctor had taken to driving in his buggy, and when Maddy was strong enough he took her with him one day, and with his own hands adjusted the shawl which grandma wrapped around her, and tied the white sun-bonnet which shaded the sweet, pale face, where the roses were just beginning to bloom again. The doctor was very happy that morning, and so too was Maddy, talking to him upon the theme of which she never tired—Guy Remington, Jessie, and Aikenside. Was it as beautiful a place as she had heard it was, and didn’t he think it would be delightful to live there? “I suppose Mr. Guy will be bringing a wife there some day when he finds one,” and leaning back in the buggy Maddy heaved a little sigh, not at thoughts of Guy Remington’s wife, but because she began to feel tired, and thus gave vent to her weariness. The doctor, however, did not so construe it. He heard the sigh, and for the first time when listening to her as she talked of Guy, a keen throb of pain shot through his heart, a something as near akin to jealousy as it was possible for him then to feel. But all unused as he was to the workings of love he did not at that moment dream of such an emotion in connection with Madeline Clyde. He only knew that something affected him unpleasantly, prompting him to tell Maddy Clyde about Lucy Atherstone, who, in all probability, would one day come to Aikenside as its mistress.