“You foolish little girl, set your heart at rest. Do you remember when I came upon you suddenly last summer? You were standing on the porch in a tiny glint of sunshine, and looked like some of the old pictures! Why, I believe it was your hair that I fell in love with first of all.”
“I am glad it was, for I am not half as good as you imagine I am.”
“Children,” mamma said, standing on the porch step. “Do you realize how late it is?”
I felt that she knew all, perhaps had known it long before, indeed. But I was glad that the knowledge had come to me so suddenly, and not any sooner. Even now I was half afraid of it. Her kiss and tender clasp re-assured me.
“Mother!” Stephen Duncan said with reverent sweetness.
CHAPTER XVII.
I wished there could be no such thing as breakfast the next morning, but there was, and I had to go through with it, feeling that I was no longer I, that Rosalind Endicott was some dream-girl of the past. Stephen was very good and did not notice me much, and Fan appeared wonderfully pre-occupied. Mamma helped me over the trying places, and papa just said with his tender morning kiss,—“And this little girl, too.”
When I was all dressed for church I opened a little drawer to get my gloves. There lay the box containing Stephen’s gift. I had never worn it, but it seemed to me as if I ought to put it on now. He liked me and the misunderstandings were at an end. I had accepted a share of his burthens, his crosses, whatever they might be, so I clasped it around my neck. It was so beautiful. I did not envy the queen her diadem.
We walked to church together. Louis glanced back now and then. I believe he began to suspect.