"My aunt needs me. She is getting old, and says I make the house brighter. She has had a lonely life, for my uncle is so busy with politics that he is hardly ever with her; so it would be cruel to leave her. You see I have learned to grumble; but your face brought back that sweet Derbyshire moor. Have you left it for long?"
"I don't know," was the blunt reply.
"I am so glad to see you in town," Greta went on a little eagerly. "I have wished so much to meet you. Can you come to tea with us to-morrow afternoon? My aunt is having a few friends, and she will be delighted to see you."
"I will come with the greatest pleasure."
And Rufus went away feeling this eager welcome was more than he expected.
The next afternoon found him at Lady Chatterton's. Greta greeted him brightly, but seemed nervous and ill at ease. There were a good many guests, and her time was naturally absorbed in entertaining them. Rufus could hardly get a word with her, and was about to depart rather gloomily when she came up to him.
"Mr. Tracy," she said, softly laying her hand on his arm, "I want you to come with me into the other room and be introduced to a great friend of mine—a very great friend of mine she is—and—and I want you to promise to be your true self with her."
Greta's light touch thrilled through him; and though he wondered at her words, he followed her obediently into the smaller drawing-room.
A grey-haired woman seated by the window turned round at their approach; and Rufus found himself face to face with his mother.
Greta stole away; she knew from the softening lines about the young man's face as he looked at the one who had been his boyhood's ideal of all that was good and beautiful, that his pride was now being placed in the background, and a deep content crept into her heart.