"Do I?" Angel exclaimed in surprise.
"Yes. I, too, had a brother whom I dearly-loved, and—"
"Oh, I never knew that!" Dora interposed quickly. "Oh," she cried, meeting her mother's reproving look, "do forgive me for so rudely interrupting you, but—I was so astonished! Is your brother dead, Miss Goodwin?"
"Yes, dear child. He died—a great while ago—in India."
"In India!" Dora repeated, her wondering blue eyes scanning the old lady's withered face, which wore a pensive expression, that presently gave place to a look of trouble and doubt.
"It was long, long ago," Miss Goodwin said slowly, after a short pause. She sat with her thin little hands clasped tightly in her lap. "I was trying to remember the other day how old my brother would be if he was alive now," she continued, "but I forget—I have lost count of time."
"Never mind," said Mrs. Mickle gently. "don't worry about it. Time only affects the things which perish; love is for eternity. I am sure you love your brother now as much as you ever did."
"Yes!" Miss Goodwin cried, the cloud from her face suddenly clearing. "When I see Angel and Gerald, I always think of my brother and me. Circumstances parted us in life, but his last message to me was one of love. Yes, love is for eternity."
She fell into a train of happy thought, and a few minutes later Angel and Gerald took their departure. When they reached the garden gate they turned and waved their hands to the group of smiling faces at the dining-room window, then hurried on in the direction of the railway station.
"Angel," said Gerald suddenly, "do you remember last summer, when father and Uncle Edward went to London, and all that happened whilst they were away? Of course you do! As though you would be likely to forget! It's a foolish question to ask."