“I suppose it’s wicked to feel such things on Sunday, but, somehow, what she said keeps making me so bad that I _know_ I hate _her_, and I _guess_ I hate Mr. Guy!” This was Maddy’s answer, spoken deliberately, while she looked up at the young man, who with a comical expression about his mouth, answered her: “_I_ am Mr. Guy.” “YOU, YOU! Oh, I can’t bear it! I shall die!” and Maddy sprang up as quickly as if feeling an electric shock. But Guy’s arm was interposed to stop her, and held her back, while he asked where she was going. “Anywhere, out of sight, where you can never see me again,” Maddy sobbed vehemently. “It is bad enough to have you think me a fool as you did once; but now, oh! what do you think of me?” “Nothing bad, I assure you,” Guy said, still holding her wrist to keep her there. “I supposed you knew who I was, but as you did not, I forgive you for hating me so cordially. If you thought I sanctioned what Mrs. Remington has said to you, you had cause to dislike me, but Miss Clyde, I do not, and this is the first intimation I have had that you were to be treated other than as a lady. I am master of Aikenside, not Mrs. Agnes, who shall be made to understand it.” “Oh, please don’t quarrel about me. Let me go home, and then all will be well,” Maddy cried, feeling at that moment more averse to leaving Aikenside than she could have thought it possible. “We shall not quarrel, but I shall have my way; meanwhile go to your room, and stay there until told that I have sent for you.” They went to the house together, but separated in the hall; Maddy going to her room, while Guy sought Mrs. Agnes. The moment she saw his face she knew a storm was coming, but was not prepared for the biting sarcasm and bitter reproaches heaped upon her by one who, when roused, was a perfect hurricane. “Perhaps you have forgotten that you were once a school teacher yourself,” he said, “and before that time mercy knows what you were—_a hired girl_, perhaps; your present airs would seem to warrant as much!” Guy was in a sad passion by this time, and failed to note the effect his last words had on Agnes, who turned livid with rage and terror; but smothering down her wrath, she said, beseechingly: “Pray, Guy, do not be so angry; I know I am foolish about some things, and proud people who ‘come up’ always are, I guess; I know that marrying your father made me what I am, but everybody does not know it, and it is not necessary they should. I don’t remember exactly what I did say to this Clyde girl, but I thought it would be pleasanter for you, pleasanter for us all, not to have her always round; it seems she has presided at the table when Dr. Holbrook was here to tea, and even you can’t think that quite right.” “I don’t know why,” and at mention of Dr. Holbrook Guy’s temper burst out again. “Agnes, you can’t deceive me; I know the secret of your abominable treatment of Maddy Clyde is jealousy.”