"Oh, it is more than hope, my belief that she is there; that she is not lost. Only one cannot tell how or when or where it all may be. For that, yes, it can be only hope. She, too, would love you, I am sure," Karen continued.
"Would she? I'm glad you think so, darling."
"We are so much alike, you see, that it is natural to feel sure that we should think alike. Do you not think that her face is much like mine? What happiness! I am glad it is not a day of rain for our happiness." And she then added, "I hope we may be married."
"Why, we are to be married, dear child," Gregory said, smiling at her. "There is no 'may' about it, since you love me."
"Only one," said Karen, who still looked at her mother's face. "And perhaps it will be well not to speak much of our love till we can know. But I feel sure that she will say this happiness is for me."
"She?" Gregory repeated. For a moment he imagined that she meant some superstition connected with her mother.
Karen, slipping the ribbon over her head, had returned the locket to its place. "Yes; Tante," she said, still with the locket in her hand.
"Tante?" Gregory repeated.
At his tone, its change, she lifted startled eyes to his.
"What has she to do with it?" Gregory asked after a moment in which she continued to gaze at him.