“My dear Aimée, this is indeed a change for you!” exclaimed Mrs. Berrien, turning and embracing the startled girl with honest warmth. “I am as pleased as if a fortune had been left to myself. Now I need feel no more anxiety about your future.”
“I shall never forget who was the only person who ever did feel any,” said Aimée, clinging to her as though some danger threatened.
Mrs. Berrien smiled. She knew that it was true; that she had indeed been the only person who had ever given a thought to the future of the fatherless girl, and she was not sorry that Aimée should recognize the fact. It was the reward for a good action, which she deserved, because no such reward had seemed even remotely possible when the action was performed.
Naturally, however, this was not very pleasant for the representative of the Joscelyns to hear; and, being a young man with a considerable drop of venom in his nature, Mr. Percy Joscelyn felt impelled to reply to the implied charge by bringing a countercharge.
“I am sorry that Aimée imagines you to be the only person who felt any anxiety for her future,” he said, stiffly. “But if I may judge by the position in which I found her when I arrived, it was at least not a troublesome anxiety in the present.”
Mrs. Berrien looked at him with haughty surprise. “May I inquire what you mean?” she asked. “You have found her in exactly the position she would have occupied as my daughter.”
“Indeed!” said he, with what Aimée inwardly called “Percy’s disagreeable smile.” “You are, of course, the best judge of that. But I found her with a young man, evidently exchanging love-tokens. If that is a liberty you would allow your daughter, I can only say I am sure my stepmother would prefer an anxiety that would take another form.”
Regarding him for a moment as if she thought he had taken leave of his senses, Mrs. Berrien then turned to Aimée:
“What is the meaning of this?” she asked, “What is he talking about? There is nothing that I can imagine more improbable than that you were ‘with a young man exchanging love-tokens.’”
“I was not—O Aunt Alice, I was not!” cried poor Aimée, divided between indignant wrath and the desire to burst into tears. “Percy did find a—young man here; but he was only a—visitor.”