A lady of my own.”’”
“And nature did that, Margery. No rules of mine could do what she did. You had the germ within you of all that makes a grand, good woman, and it has come to perfection.”
Margery bent and kissed the lips that spoke the grateful words.
“You always comforted me, dearest, truest friend! Ah, why will you not stay with me always, to be my counselor and guide in the years to come? You have worked so hard; now is your time for rest. Promise me that when you are tired you will make your home with me.”
“I will come to you whenever I can, but I will not live with you. It would not be wise. Now tell me of all the strange things that have happened since we parted. Thank Heaven, my child, your lot has fallen upon the golden side of life! Your troubles are over, now begins your happiness.”
Margery’s hand had wandered to her heart-shaped locket, which day and night she always wore. She raised it, and gazed at the image of her mother’s face.
“It seems like a fairy story,” she said, slowly and dreamily. “I wonder does the knowledge that I have so much, that the babe she left alone in the wide, wide world has great riches and lives in luxury make her happy?”
“It would make her happier, dear child,” Miss Lawson added, quietly, “to see that your companion and friend for life, your husband, is so good and true a man. He is well known to me, Margery. You see, my sister has told me all about his nobleness and worth, and from my heart I congratulate you—more, I rejoice with you.”
Margery did not answer; her hand was still closed round her locket, her eyes fixed on the fire. The light flickering and dancing on her pale, lovely face found no smile there, only a depth of pain in the wondrous starlike eyes.