“We’ve heard from Mr. Guy; the ship is in; they’ll be here sure to-night, and Mrs. Noah is turnin’ things upside down with the dinner.”
Leaning back in the buggy, Maddy felt for a moment as if she were dying. Never until then had she realized how, all the while, she had been clinging to an indefinable hope, a presentiment that something might yet occur to spare her from a long lifetime of pain, such as lay before her if Guy were really lost; but the bubble had burst, leaving her nothing to hope, nothing to cling to, nothing but black despair; and half bewildered, she received the noisy greeting of Jessie, who met her at the door, and dragged her into the drawing-room, decorated with flowers from the hothouse, told her to guess who was coming.
“I know; Tom told me; Guy is coming with Lucy,” Maddy answered, and relieving herself from Jessie, she turned to Agnes, asking where Mrs. Noah was, and if she might go to her for a moment.
“Oh, Maddy, child, I’m sorry you’ve come to-day,” Mrs. Noah said, as she chafed Maddy’s cold hands, and leading her to the fire, made her sit down, while she untied her hood, and removed her cloak and furs.
“I did not know it, or I should have stayed away,” Maddy replied; “I shall not stay, as it is. I cannot see them to-day. Charlie will drive me back before the train is due; but what did he say? And how is Lucy?” “He did not mention her. There’s the dispatch” and Mrs. Noah handed to Maddy the telegram, received that morning, and which was simply as follows:
“The steamer is here. Shall be at the station at five o’clock P. M.
Twice Maddy read it over, experiencing much the same feeling she would have experienced had it been her death warrant she was reading.
“At five o’clock. I must go before that,” she said, sighing as she remembered how, one year ago that day, she was traveling over the very route where Guy was now traveling with his bride. Did he think of it? think of his long waiting at the depot, or of that memorable ride, the events of which grew more and more distinct in her memory, making her cheeks burn even now, as she recalled his many acts of tenderness and care.
Laying the telegram on the table, she went with Mrs. Noah through the rooms, warmed and made ready for the bride, lingering longest in Lucy’s, which the bridal decorations, and the bright fire blazing in the grate made singularly inviting. As yet, there were no flowers there, and Maddy claimed the privilege of arranging them for this room herself. Agnes had almost stripped the conservatory; but Maddy found enough to form a most tasteful bouquet, which she placed upon a marble dressing table; then within a slip of paper which she folded across the top, she wrote: “Welcome to the bride.”