“Habit, I suppose,” said Dr. Harcourt, with a smile. “We deal with problems in the faculty. But this is a new one. Some good fairy has changed one daughter into two, while we were away. Shall we not be happy over it?”
“Why, I believe we could be,—Father.”
“Thank you, my child.” Dr. Harcourt seemed to be affected by Sidney’s sweet way of addressing him. He paused for a moment. “Now, I can not be here long. I must go back to the university to-morrow. But your mother sends you her love and wants you to come to us, for a visit, or to stay. She wanted to see you, but could not quite bring herself to meet you here. Then I want to have a talk with you, either to-night or to-morrow morning, to learn something of how you feel in regard to this, and to know what are your ambitions;—you can guess how interested I am in everything concerning you.”
“Yes, sir. I am not sure that I have any big ambitions, like Shirley, but it may do me good to think about it. I will go to see my mother, and you, and the university,—and I am glad that you understand how a girl would feel with two fathers and two mothers. But you can scarcely know how thankful I was after having been nearly distracted, to find that my real father is you!”
Sidney was making a fine impression of sincerity upon her father. After one or two more references to the chief subject of thought, Dr. Harcourt suggested that Sidney summon Mr. and Mrs. Thorne. From that time on, through dinner and for a large part of the evening, a strange evening to Sidney who sat to listen, the conversation turned on general matters, national, local, business, the university where Dr. Harcourt taught, the results of his trip, the interests of the Thornes. And after Sidney had gone to her room, Dr. Harcourt took pains to express his feeling over the fact that a home of such “high ideals” had been provided for his little unknown child, who fell into such dangers. It was like Dr. Harcourt not even to think of the evidences of wealth around him.
Shirley, at home, and a sober mother of a daughter whom she had never seen, thought of that Chicago meeting; but Shirley was too full of her entrance as a freshman in the university to worry about Sidney. Everything would be all right now, or soon. Of course Sidney would love her very own parents. Didn’t she know her twin?
Not long after Dr. Harcourt’s hurried Chicago trip, Sidney, chaperoned by Miss Standish, visited her father and mother. Miss Standish, after her first disappointment, had taken a great interest. She met and heartily approved the new father, Dr. Harcourt, thinking Sidney very fortunate in her family. She looked up the Thornes and the Harcourts and the Dudleys again until Sidney begged for mercy at the array of names and facts. “Never mind,” said her great-aunt, “some day you will be interested again; and I am sure to find Miss Dudley keenly interested and well informed about our New England families.” She noted Sidney’s inward excitement as they drew near the pretty little college town, and she was very much alive herself to every impression of people and environment. Neither of them came in a critical attitude.
Gently and affectionately Mrs. Harcourt welcomed her daughter, trying not to disturb the poise which Sidney strove to maintain. But when it came to the point, neither could help being somewhat shaken by all that it had involved. It was a softer and sweeter Sidney than Shirley had first known, who came on to the home which should always have been hers.
A decided stir in the student circle was made by the sudden and unheralded appearance of “Shirley Harcourt’s twin.” Dr. Harcourt longed to put Sidney into college with Shirley, but he saw that she was not physically as strong and after a long talk with her, he gave up the idea for the present.
There was plenty of fun, for Shirley’s friends flocked in at her invitation. Sidney was admired and made much of till she told Shirley that her head would be quite turned. She had not been unaccustomed to admiration, but this gay yet earnest group of university girls and boys, most of them older than herself, made a new and attractive feature. She noted their respect toward her father and the grace with which her mother managed the various situations. There was one maid, who spent the day and went away at night, but the home was full of books and things that spoke of taste and culture if not of wealth. Too bad that such dear people could not have both, Sidney thought, and she helped Shirley or her mother in little ways while she was there, trying to learn. Shirley understood.