Part 40 (1/2)

So soon! The time had come but how strong she was! Not a tremor shook her frame; not an emotion quickened her pulse! Mr. Bancroft a.s.sisting her to a seat in the carriage, entered and took one beside her.

”We shall not be late? I slept so soundly. Really I forgot to wake this morning, and must thank you for reminding me of it.”

Mrs. Hamilton laughed and Mr. Bancroft looked into the beaming eyes and thought ”how like Lily g.a.y.l.o.r.d's they are!”

”You spoke last evening of two protegees?”

”Yes, a brother of the young lady--and a cripple.”

”A brother, did you say?” and the heart of his listener gave a great bound of pain. The carriage suddenly wheeled up at the station, and ”all aboard for the West” was shouted.

”This way Mrs. Hamilton,” and her escort handed her into the car, and wis.h.i.+ng her success waved his adieus as the train moved on.

”Her brother! Then she is not my child! Have I been led thus far only to find the fruit that allured me with its golden brightness nothing but ashes? Can it be?” With fearful apprehensions the hour flew by; the junction was reached at last.

It was a short ride to the hotel, and as she entered the spruce-looking village inn sensation of suffocation caused her to throw back her veil that she might breathe more freely.

”Is Mrs. g.a.y.l.o.r.d in?” she asked of a sweet-faced little woman who appeared.

”They have gone for their morning ride, but will be back in a half hour at most.”

”I will take a room and wait their coming,” was Lillian's response, and the hostess was ready to conduct her thither. It was a pleasant chamber overlooking the maple grove where the ”lady from the south” had found so many cool breaths, and which now presented its most winning aspect to her who was gazing with anxious agitation into its shades. They had gone! In half an hour! Could she wait? And yet how she dreaded its pa.s.sing! But the wings of time never cease their rapid motion, and before she had bathed her face or removed her bonnet a rap upon the door announced that her hour had come. Mrs. g.a.y.l.o.r.d was ready to receive her visitor.

”Will you ask her to grant me the favor to come to my room?”

This request was made with trembling voice, and the hostess wonderingly went with her message. Then a step was heard along the hall and the door again opened, and the same gentle voice to which she had twice listened announced ”Mrs. g.a.y.l.o.r.d.”

Lillian arose and the two ladies stood face to face with a world of hidden mysteries between them. Mrs. g.a.y.l.o.r.d extended her hand, and Lillian smiled as the door closed behind the retreating figure of the curious landlady.

”You are surprised at this intrusion from a stranger, but you will neither wonder or blame when you have listened to my story, and as it is a long one let us sit by the window.”

Mrs. g.a.y.l.o.r.d affably obeyed.

”Have you a young lady with you; an adopted daughter, I believe?”

”Yes.” The lady moved uneasily in her chair.

”Will you tell me what you know about her history?”

”She can do this better than I. Shall I call her?”

”No, no! I want to talk with you; but first answer this one question: Has she a brother?”

”A foster-brother as she calls the n.o.ble cripple, who is now with her in our private parlor.”

A gleam of joy darted into her beautiful eyes at this clearing away of the shadows, and she proceeded.

”Another question; by what name was she called before you bestowed your own upon her?”

Her listener laughed. ”In her years of babyhood she gloried in the appellation of 'Phebe Blunt,' and in six years or thereabouts this was changed to 'Phebe Evans'; at fourteen it was again changed to 'Lily g.a.y.l.o.r.d,' the one to which she will now answer.”