“Yes, sir. Do you really know John, sir?” The lines of pleasure and distress mingled strangely in Mary’s face. The gentleman smiled. He tapped little Alice’s head with the tips of his fingers.
“I used to hold him on my knee when he was no bigger than this little image of him here.”
The tears leaped into Mary’s eyes.
“Mr. Thornton,” she whispered, huskily, and could say no more.
“You must come home with us,” said the lady, touching her tenderly on the shoulder. “It’s a wonder of good fortune that we’ve met. Mr. Thornton has something to say to you,—a matter of business. He’s the family’s lawyer, you know.”
“I must get to my husband without delay,” said Mary.
“Get to your husband?” asked the lawyer, in astonishment.
“Yes, sir.”
“Through the lines?”
“Yes, sir.”