Gertrude’s self-possession never deserted her. “There must be some mistake!” she said. “We came to call upon an elderly gentleman, Mr. Ellsworth, whose portrait, I believe, is hanging over the mantel.”
“Grandfather is dead,” the lad replied, “and my aunt and I have inherited this estate, but won’t you be seated? Aunt Louise will be down directly and she will be glad to make your acquaintance.”
“Mr. Ellsworth,” Gertrude began, “I hardly know how to state our errand, but if you have a moment to spare I would like to tell you a story.”
Then Gertrude told simply all that she knew of little Alise and of her resemblance to the statue. The lad listened with intense interest.
“Tell me the name of the child,” he said when Gertrude paused.
“Alise Alderly,” the girl had just replied when a pale, beautiful woman appeared in the doorway.
“Aunt Louise,” the lad exclaimed, leaping to meet her and taking her hand, “I have news for you, wonderful news! These young ladies are from Linden Hall and they tell me that there is a child attending the school named Alise Alderly.”
The woman, her sweet face flushed with eagerness, held out both hands to the girls, who had risen. “Do tell me about her!” she begged. “Just before my father died, he tried to tell me what he had done with my dear sister’s baby, but he was so weak that he could not. We have searched everywhere for the past three months but have found no trace of her.”
The girls were touched by the charming woman’s emotion and being again reseated, Gertrude told all that she knew of the orphan child.
A happy light shone in the face of the listener as the story progressed, and when it was finished, she turned to her nephew, with tears in her eyes, as she said, “Arthur, I am convinced that we have found my sister’s little one. Please order my car. I must visit Linden Hall at once and make further inquiries. If it is my dear sister’s child, oh, how happy, happy I shall be!”