Madeline by Mary Jane Holmes

Maddy, her grandfather and grandmother called her, and there was a world of unutterable tenderness in the voices of the old couple when they spoke that name, while their dim eyes lighted up with pride and joy whenever they rested upon the young girl who made the sunlight of their home. She was the child of their only daughter, and had lived with them since her mother's death, for her father was a sea captain, who never returned from his last voyage to China, made two months before she was born.

For forty years the aged couple had lived in the old red farm-house, tilling the barren soil of the rocky homestead, and, save on the sad night when they heard that Richard Clyde was lost at sea, and the far sadder morning when their daughter died, they had been tolerably free from sorrow; and, truly thankful for the blessings so long vouchsafed them, they had retired each night in peace with God and man, and risen each morning to pray. But a change was coming over them. In an evil hour Grandpa Markham had signed a note for a neighbor and friend, who failed to pay, and so it all fell upon Mr. Markham, who, to meet the demand, had been compelled to mortgage his homestead; the recreant neighbor still insisting that long before the mortgage was due he should be able himself to meet it. This, however, he had not done, and, after twice begging off a foreclosure, poor old Grandfather Markham found himself at the mercy of a grasping, remorseless man, into whose hands the mortgage had passed. It was vain to hope for mercy from a man like Silas Slocum. The money must either be forthcoming, or the red farm-house be sold, with its few acres of land; and as among his neighbors there was not one who had the money to spare, even if they had been willing to do so, he must look for it among strangers.