The doctor, to whom these remarks were sometimes made, silently gnashed his teeth, then said savagely that “if Guy chose to teach Maddy Clyde, he did not see whose business it was,” and then rode over to Aikenside to see the teacher and pupil, half hoping that Guy would soon tire of his project and give it up. But Guy grew more and more pleased with his employment, until, at last, from giving Maddy two hours of his time, he gave her four, esteeming them the pleasantest of the whole twenty-four. Guy was proud of Maddy’s improvement, and often praised her to the doctor, who also marveled at the rapid development of her mind and the progress she made, grasping a knotty point almost before it was explained, and retaining with wonderful tenacity what she had learned. It mattered nothing to Guy that the neighbors gossiped; there were none familiar enough to tell him what was said, except the doctor or Mrs. Noah; and so he heard few of the remarks made so frequently. As in Honedale, so in Sommerville Maddy was a favorite, and those who interested themselves most in the matter never said anything worse of her and Mr. Guy than that he might perhaps be educating his own wife, and insinuating that it would be a great “catch” for Grandfather Markham’s child. But Maddy never dreamed of such a thing, and kept on her pleasant way, reciting every day to Guy, and going every Wednesday to the red cottage, whither, after his first visit to Uncle Joseph, Guy never accompanied her. Jessie, on the contrary, went often to Honedale, where the lunatic always greeted her coming, stealing up closely to her, and whispering softly, “My Daisy has come again.” He had called her _Sarah_ at first, and then changed the name to “Daisy,” which he persisted in calling her, watching from his window for her coming, and crying whenever Maddy appeared without her. At first Agnes, in her letters, forbade Jessie’s going so often to see a lunatic; but when Jessie described the poor, crazy man’s delight at sight of her, telling how quiet and happy he seemed if he could but lay his hand on her head, or touch her hair, she withdrew her restrictions, and, as if moved to an unwonted burst of tenderness, wrote to her daughter, “Comfort that crazy man all you can; he needs it so much.” A few weeks after this there came another letter from Agnes, but this time it was to Guy, and its contents darkened his handsome face with anger and vexation. Incidentally Agnes had heard the gossip, and written it to Guy, adding, in conclusion: “Of course I know it is not true, for even if there were no Lucy Atherstone, you, of all men, would not stoop to Maddy Clyde. I do not presume to advise, but I will say this, that now she is growing a young lady, people will keep on talking so long as you keep her there in the house; and it’s hardly fair toward Lucy.”