Mrs. Scudder came into her room with a candle in her hand, and Mary, accustomed to read the expressions of her mother’s face, saw at a glance a visible discomposure there. She held the light so that it shone upon Mary’s face.
‘Are you asleep?’ she said.
‘No, mother.’
‘Are you unwell?’
‘No, mother; only a little tired.’
Mrs. Scudder set down the candle and shut the door, and after a moment’s hesitation, said,
‘My daughter, I have some news to tell you, which I want you to prepare your mind for. Keep yourself quite quiet.
‘Oh, mother,’ said Mary, stretching out her hands towards her, ‘I know it, James has come home.’
‘How did you hear?’ said her mother with astonishment.
‘I have seen him, mother.’