It was very strange to realize that she had some defined standing; now that the oppression of dependence had been lifted she marvelled that she could have endured the burden so long.
"But it is too good to last," she said to herself once or twice. "I know something will happen, and I shall go out into the cold again."
Of course she could not sleep; she thought of a dozen things at the same time.
The spell of Camilla's magnetic personality, the calm strength and womanliness of Agnes Brenton, the charm and prattle of the children, held her in sway alternatively, and kept alive that new sense of warmth that had been kindled in her heart.
Every now and then, too, Rupert Haverford would come into her thoughts.
A note had been sent round from Mrs. Brenton's lodgings addressed to herself, and given to her just as she was going upstairs. In this Haverford had written that he regretted that he was called north on very important matters, but that he had spoken to the lady of whom he had told her, and that a home was arranged for her until she could make other plans.
"My absence may delay the explanation you desire from my mother," Rupert had written, "but in the event of your requiring any reference, you will of course use my name."
It was a brief and very businesslike letter, but Caroline felt grateful to him all the same.
Assuredly he must have troubled himself about her even to have made such arrangements.
Once indeed she felt a little qualm.