He had sung no more when the face of Mrs. Collingwood appeared in the doorway. Her eyes were wide and staring, her features almost gray in color.
"Who—who are you?" she demanded, in a voice scarcely louder than a whisper. The stranger gazed at her with a fixed look.
"Arthur— Arthur Calthorpe!" he faltered.
"No—you are not!"
They drew toward each other unconsciously, as though moving in a dream.
"No one—no one ever knew that song but—" Mrs. Collingwood came closer, and uttered a sudden low cry:
"My son!"
"Mother!"
The two girls, who had been watching this scene with amazement unutterable, saw the strange pair gaze, for one long moment, into each other's eyes. Then, with a beautiful gesture, the man held out his arms. And the woman, with a little gasp of happiness, walked into them!