The Burden

"Maddy," Guy whispered, bending over the strange trio, "would you
rather I should stay? Will it be pleasanter for you, if I do?"

"Yes--I don't know. I guess it would not be so lonely. Oh, it's
terrible to have grandmother dead!" was Maddy's response; after which
Guy would have stayed if a whole regiment of Mrs. Noah's had
confronted him instead of one.

Maddy wished it; that was reason enough for him; and giving a few
directions to John, he stayed, thereby disconcerting the neighboring
women who came in to perform the last offices for the dead, and who
wished the young man from Aikenside was anywhere but there, watching
them in all their movements, as they vainly fancied he did. But Guy
thought only of Maddy, watching her so carefully that more than one
meaning glance was exchanged between the women, who, even over the
inanimate form of the dead, spoke together of what might possibly
occur, wondering what would be the effect on Grandpa Markham and Uncle
Joseph. Who would take care of them? And then, in case Maddy should
feel it her duty to stay there, as they half hoped she would, they
fell to pitying the young girl, who seemed now so wholly unfitted for
the burden.

To Maddy there came no definite idea of the future during the two days
that white, rigid form lay in the darkened cottage; but when, at last,
the deep grave made for Grandma Markham was occupied, and the lounge
in the little front room was empty--when the Aikenside carriage, which
had been sent down for the use of the mourners, had been driven away,
taking both Guy and Mrs. Noah--when the neighbors, too, had gone,
leaving only herself and the little hired girl sitting by the evening
fire, with the grandfather and the imbecile Uncle Joseph--then it was
that she first began to fed the pressure of the burden--began to ask
herself if she could live thus always, or at least for many years--as
long as either of the two helpless men were spared. Maddy was young,
and the world as she had seen it was very bright and fair, brighter
far than a life of laborious toil, and for a while the idea that the
latter alternative must be accepted made her dizzy and faint.