"I certainly do not understand what love is," she said to herself; "it may well be called blind, for Hilda can perceive none of Guy's faults. It has transformed him into a hero. Oh, dear! I shall never be able to love in that fashion."
It was too late to join the skaters. Aldyth did a little shopping in the High Street, and then turned homewards. As she entered the house, a letter lay on the hall table awaiting her. Aldyth recognized with delight the thin foreign envelope addressed by her mother's hand. She went into the dining room, and sat down to read her letter. She had not read far ere her heart gave a wild bound, and her face grew pale with sudden vivid emotion. The words which caused it were these:—
"Our long-talked-of visit to England is at last to be realized. We have arrived at a decision rather rapidly, and sail in a week's time, so that we shall be actually on our way home when you receive this. Mr. Stanton's health has of late caused me anxiety, but we hope the voyage will set him up. It is on his account that we start with so little preparation. We propose taking a furnished house in London as soon as we arrive, and shall probably remain at home for two years. I cannot tell you, my dearest child, how I look forward to our meeting, so long-deferred. You must come to us as soon as we arrive in London. We are all coming. Cecil is to study medicine at one of the hospitals. Your sisters are counting on seeing you at last."
There was much more in the letter, which Aldyth read again and again, and yet seemed unable fully to grasp. All her being was thrilled with a shock of joy. Could it be true that her mother—her beautiful mother—the mother she had missed and yearned for through so many years—was coming home to her at last? There was awe mingling with her joy. She was glad beyond measure to think of her mother's return, and yet she was half afraid of her happiness. The unknown brother, and sisters too—she was to meet them at last. Was it any wonder that Aldyth's heart throbbed with a tumultuous emotion that had fully as much pain in it as pleasure? She was glad, and yet the tears would come. Faster and faster they came, till they rained down her cheeks.
"Why, Aldyth, my dear child! What is the matter?" cried Miss Lorraine, coming in briskly from the cold.
"Oh, auntie, such news!" exclaimed Aldyth, holding out the letter. "Mother is coming; she is on her way now."
"You don't mean it? Really coming at last! Well, it is startling, certainly; but I would not cry about it," said Miss Lorraine.
She laid her bag and her muff deliberately on the table, and took the letter from the girl. Any one less excited than Aldyth would have seen that the news did not give her aunt unmixed satisfaction.
"So," she said presently, "they are coming at last, and you will have your heart's desire, Aldyth; though no one would think it, to see you crying like that."
"Oh, aunt, I cried because I was so glad," said Aldyth, hastily drying her eyes. "You cannot think what it is—after so many years, to know that my mother is coming to me."