I said something about leaving my brother, while I expressed my gratitude for her kindness.
"Mr. Brahan will arrange that," she said; "you may be assured he shall be cared for. You have not unpacked your trunk; and here is your bonnet and mantilla ready to be resumed. You did not think I would suffer you to remain among strangers, when my heart has been yearning to meet you for weary months?"
With gentle earnestness she overcame all my scruples; and it was but a little time before I found myself established as a guest in the house where I first beheld the light of existence. How strange it seemed, that the children of the two betrayed and injured beings who had been made exiles from that roof, should be received beneath its shelter after the lapse of so many years!
Mrs. Brahan accompanied me to the chamber prepared for my reception; and had I been her own daughter she could not have lavished upon me more affectionate cares. The picture of my mother, which I had returned when we left the city, was hanging on the wall; and the eyes and lips of heavenly sweetness seemed to welcome her sad descendant to the home of her infancy. As I stood gazing upon it with mingled grief and adoration, Mrs. Brahan encircled me with her arm, and told me she understood now the history of that picture, and the mystery of its wonderful resemblance to me. I had not seen her since the notoriety my name had acquired, in consequence of the diamonds and my father's arrest; and she knew me now as the daughter of that unhappy man. Did she know the circumstances of the discovery of my brother, and my husband's flight? I dared not ask; but I read so much sympathy and compassion in her countenance, and so much tenderness in her manners, I thought she had fathomed the depth of my sorrows.
"You look like a girl of fifteen," she said, passing her fingers through my carelessly waving locks. "Your hair was very beautiful, but I can scarcely regret its loss."
"I may look more juvenile,—I believe I do, for every one tells me so; but the youth and bloom of my heart are gone for ever."
"For ever from the lips of the young, and from those more advanced in life, mean very different things," answered Mrs. Brahan. "I have no doubt you have happier hours in store, and you will look back to these as morning shadows melting off in the brightening sunshine."
"Do you know all that has happened, dear Mrs. Brahan, since I left your city?"
"The rumor of the distressing circumstances which attended the discovery of your brother reached us even here, and our hearts bled for you. But all will yet be well. The terrible shock you have sustained will be a death blow to the passion that has caused you so much misery. Forgive me, if I make painful allusions; but I cannot suffer you to sink into the gloom of despondency."
"I try to look upward. I do think the hopes which have no home on earth, have found rest in heaven."