A chair had been drawn up to the couch by the thoughtful Judson, and the countess made a gentle motion that her grand-daughter should occupy it.
Clara sat down, feeling nervous and very miserable; for those eyes followed her with mournful curiosity, which the high-spirited girl mistook for criticism.
"I dare say that I am not so handsome or so good as my poor mother was, but she loved me dearly, everybody says that, and for her sake you might be glad I am here, grandmother, especially as you sent for me."
As Clara said this, tears swelled from those blue eyes that had been slowly filling, and dropped to her cheeks like rain upon damask roses. This appeal, so childlike in its passion, lifted the old countess out of her seeming apathy. She arose, laid her hands on that young head and kissed the flushed forehead.
The moment Clara felt the touch of those tender lips, she threw both arms around the shadowy old woman, and broke forth.
"Oh, grandmother, grandmother, don't stop to think about it, but let me love you! I want to so much, for without that I shall be awfully homesick."
The old lady's heart beat as it had not done for years. Never, since her only child went forth from those proud walls a bride, had any one dared to claim her love, or speak to her as one free soul speaks to another. In the haughty isolation of her rank, she had almost forgotten that equality could ever be claimed of her. The very audacity of this cry for affection stirred the old lady's pride like a trumpet.
"There speaks the Carset blood," she said, appealing to the grim hand-maiden who stood by; "always ready to give and bold to claim just rights. My grandchild is of the true stock, you see. God bless her and love her as I will!"
"There, now, that is very kind of you, grandmamma, and you are just the dearest, sweetest and queenliest lady that ever made a poor girl happy, when she was, in fact, homesick as death. The truth is, mamma Rachael spoils me so completely with her great love, and—but, oh! I forgot you can't bear mamma Rachael. Dear me! I am always getting into scrapes. Does that belong to the Carset blood, I wonder?"
The waiting-maid stood petrified when the old countess broke into a soft, pleasant laugh, at what she deemed the insolent familiarity of this speech. "Did you hear that?" she exclaimed, wiping the moisture from her eyes, and increasing the vibrations of her head.