"I should have said a relative—a very near relative—a long-lost—" began Emma, but her voice broke down in sobs.
"It is Ivy!" exclaimed Mrs. Fanning, as a swift intuition revealed to her the truth.
"Yes, it is Ivy," wept Emma, throwing her arms around the afflicted woman. "And oh, is it not better so—better at once to know her fate, even to know her safe in the peace of death, than to go on enduring this dreadful uncertainty about her?"
"Oh, my child, my child! Oh, my child, my child!" wept the poor mother, scarcely able, through sobs and tears, and failings of heart and frame, to complete her simple toilet.
Emma, with great sympathy and tenderness, assisted her to dress, pinned the shawl around her shoulders, tied the bonnet strings under her chin, and brought her her gloves and pocket-handkerchief.
"I will now run and get my hat and sack, Aunt Katharine. I will go with you to Wendover," she said.
"You go with me? My dear child, you have been so long parted from your husband, and only received him back to-night, and leave him to go with me? No, no! I can not permit you to do so, Emma," said the weeping lady.
"But you need me, Aunt Katharine, and I should be utterly unworthy of my dear Alden's love if I could fail you in your time of trouble. Besides, I think Alden, also, will go back with you to Wendover."
"Heaven bless you both! You are the solace of my sad old age," said the widow, earnestly.
Emma ran out, and soon returned prepared for her sudden night ride.