"Yes," replied the lady with a look of fierce decision—"He has been telling me, how invaluable you are; so upright, sensible, and trustworthy, and that you have been a mother to his motherless children."
Mrs. Dixon answered not a word, she was endeavouring to grasp several new ideas, and felt completely bewildered, and bouleversée.
"I want you to tell the children, that I am their step-mother from England, and that I should like to see them."
The two youths, with neatly brushed hair, were presently introduced—both a little shy; it was the first time they had ever seen a lady in their own house. She was old, and not pretty, but had a pale, kind, face. Then Mota appeared, in her best evening frock, offering a beautiful contrasting picture to her dusky, but clever-looking brothers. At this enchanting vision, Mrs. Rochfort completely lost her head, and held out a pair of trembling hands; and the child, in answer to an irresistible summons in the lady's eager face, climbed into her lap, and kissed her. Thus, all these somewhat unexpected introductions were harmoniously accomplished.
Meanwhile Major Rochfort had drawn his guest aside, and said:
"She is a saint, Mallender, and you were right. Oh, why did I not speak ages ago! It would have saved me years of worry, misery, and anxiety; but I was a coward; I can face a stiff country, but an awkward situation. No! Sophy has forgiven me, I start to-day with a clean slate, and she is going to take the children."
"I say! that's splendid! She is a brick!"
"I think what melted Sophy, was a glimpse of Mota at the gate, but I may be wrong—and it was just her own goodness. We have talked it all out! The boys stay here with Dixon, and continue their education, for the present. Later, they will be well launched. We intend to take Mota home, first going to the Hills. Sophy finds this heat killing, and wants to get off at once. I expect it will be a terrible rush. She's explained about the different names—that's a bit awkward of course,—but Dixon is a good unsuspicious soul, and will make no trouble."
"Daddy, supper is ready," a clear young voice called out, and Mota entered hand in hand with Mrs. Rochfort. "Is the new lady to stay?—may she?"
Rochfort glanced at his wife, and she promptly answered: