[CHAPTER XVIII]
SUNNIE'S MOTHER
"What would I give for a heart of flesh to warm me through,
Instead of this heart of stone, ice-cold whatever I do;
Hard and cold and small, of all hearts the worst of all?"
—Christina Rossetti.
HE smiled as he shook hands with Jean.
"You have found us out," he said. "Sunnie has been expecting to see you every day. Her mother was not sure of your present address."
"Can I see her," asked Jean, "or is it best not?"
"I don't think it will hurt her a bit, only you mustn't stay long, for her sleep forsakes her at present, when she is too talkative."
"Perhaps Mrs. Gordon would rather I did not see her to-day."
"If you have my permission, it will be all right."
His smile was bright as he looked at her, and then he led her upstairs and opened the door of a large front drawing-room. There, on her couch by the window, was Sunnie. She did not turn her head or hear their entrance, for she was busy talking to her bird.