“Won’t you be seated?” the girl heard herself saying. Then to her surprise, Mrs. Widdemere, who had always so disliked her, took both of her hands, as she said “Miss Barrington, can you ever forgive me for the unkind way that I have treated you? My son has been telling me what a splendid, brave girl you are, and when I compare with you the one I wanted him to marry, how sadly she is found wanting. Only yesterday I received a letter telling me that she had left her mother, who is in deep sorrow, to accompany a party of gay friends on a pleasure trip to Europe. You cannot think how glad I am that my son did not heed my wishes in this matter.”
Nan listened to this outburst, as one who could hardly comprehend, and for a moment she did not reply. Then she asked slowly, “Mrs. Widdemere, do I understand that you are now willing that your son should marry a gypsy girl?”
“Oh, Miss Barrington, Nan, what matters one’s ancestry when the descendants of noble families are themselves so often ignoble? I have been a vain, foolish woman, but I know that true worth counts more than all else. If you can’t forgive me, because I wish it, then try to forgive me for the sake of my son.”
Tears gathered in the dark eyes of the girl, as she said, “Mrs. Widdemere, first I had a kind gypsy-aunt, Manna Lou, then two dear adopted aunts and no one could have been more loving than they, but now, at last, I am to have someone whom I can call ‘mother.’”
“Thank you dear,” the woman said, “I shall try to deserve so lovely and lovable a daughter. Robert, my son, you and I are much to be congratulated.”
The lad, who had been standing quietly near, leaped forward and catching the hands of the girl whom he loved, he said joyously. “Nan, darling, let’s have our wedding tomorrow out under the pepper tree.”
The girl smiled happily, and then, suddenly remembering the waiting visitor, she said, “Mrs. Widdemere, I would like you and Robert to meet my uncle, who has just arrived from Rumania.”
“A Rumanian gypsy,” the lady was thinking, as she followed the girl. “That country is full of them.”
A moment later, after greeting Miss Dahlia, she saw an elegant gentleman approaching and heard Nan saying, “Mrs. Widdemere, may I present my uncle, Monsieur Alecsandri?”
“Your uncle, Nan?” that lady exclaimed. “Surely this gentleman is not a gypsy.”