“Oh, yes, sir. Please go look after all that gold and silver and jewels at once. It is an awful temptation to leave in the way of servants—awful. And so many strange waiters in the house, too!” said Mrs. Downie, as she sank into a seat.
“Aunt Sophie,” said Lilith, approaching on the arm of Tudor, “this is Mr. Hereward, my husband. And this lady, sir, is Mrs. Downie, who has been so kind to me ever since I made her acquaintance.”
“I am very glad to know you, madame, and very grateful for all your goodness to my wife, in the days of her adversity,” said Hereward, taking the old lady’s little offered hand.
“Thanky, sir; I am happy, very, to see you; but as for my being good to her, it’s all even, I reckon. I wasn’t one bit better to her than she was to me, all the time,” said Mrs. Downie.
“You were like a mother to me, always,” warmly replied Lilith.
“Well, then, and wa’n’t you all the same as an own dear daughter to me? That she was, Mr. Hereward. But, honey, I never knowed you had a husband, or a father either, till this very afternoon. While you were out of the room with Mr. Hereward the ‘sinner’ come in to pay his respects to the bride and groom, and then stood with me, behind the grandees, and told me all about it—how you was his daughter and Mr. Hereward’s wife! Of course, naturally I knowed you must have been somebody’s daughter, honey; but the idea of you being anybody’s wife! Why, I didn’t know you was married!” exclaimed the old lady, in comic wonder.
“Aunt Sophie, will you forgive me for not telling you anything about my father or my husband? And for all the secrets that I have kept from you, who was like a mother to me?” inquired Lilith, tenderly taking her old friend’s hand.
“Lor’, honey, what call have I got to forgive you? Forgive you for what? For keeping of your father’s and your husband’s secrets? Why, child, you hadn’t any right to tell other people’s secrets. I reckon you had none of your own; though most people do have some secrets. Lor’! everybody can’t tell everything in the world to everybody else, I reckon. ’Twouldn’t do, anyways. So don’t say no more about that, my dear.”
“You are very sweet, Aunt Sophie.”
“Oh, no, I ain’t, honey.”