“Give me the letter, child.”
For a moment, Lady Selina held the letter, murmuring: “My son!—my son!”
Then she re-read it, Cicely kneeling beside her, hiding her tear-stained face in her mother’s lap. The letter fluttered to the ground. Cicely felt her mother’s hand upon her head.
“I—I wonder if he knows?”
Cicely looked up.
“What should he know, Mother?”
“He might know that his message to me has been delivered, and——”
“And——?”
“And accepted.”