It took days to clear away the mysteries and shadows and dig thorns out of the path where so many feet were to walk unitedly, although not together at all times under the sunshine and the clouds; but at last the work was done and Mrs. Hamilton was to return to Philadelphia alone, as she had come. Here she was to meet her husband and break to him the joyful tidings that the dead was alive and the lost found. Here also she was to make ready for her daughter's reception as soon as the cold winds of autumn should sweep down from the north, and Mrs. Gaylord desired to return to her southern home.
"I shall have no wish to remain here alone," was her plaintive conclusion when the results were being finally talked over. "No more music lessons or German from poor Mrs. Rouche, Lily, and another heart will grieve at your going."
"Better so than to have any one sorrow at my coming," and Lily's happy face beamed with joy. "You will remain a few days longer?" she pleaded, breaking a short silence, and the wistful eyes seconded the petition.
"Until after the sabbath," was Mrs. Hamilton's quiet response. "Somehow I have a fancy to go to that little church yonder; it reminds me so much of one I attended in the suburbs of a Scottish village. And then too, darling, I have been thinking I must have your full length photograph to show your father on my return, for it will be hard to make him believe my story without this pretty face to corroborate it." And she patted the full-rounded cheek fondly. "If Mrs. Gaylord will favor me with hers I will be very glad to be its possessor."
"Do you not want Willie's?" The mother smiled.
"Are you so jealous for your friend? Certainly I do want his just as I saw it yesterday when coming up to the door of the hotel—carriage, Rover and all. It was a beautiful picture, and I have no desire that it should fade from my memory. But we are to ride to his home after dinner, I believe. Will the sister give me welcome? I must thank her for the part she has taken in the preservation of my child!"
Mrs. Hopkins met them at the gate, for she had become pleased with the frequent visits of her stylish acquaintance at the hotel, notwithstanding her indignation at the interference in regard to her wishes as to "Phebe's" remaining "where she could make herself useful;" but that was passed, and to-day she was smiling and genial. When the carriage stopped Lily called out: "Where is Willie?"
"Down by the pond, I suppose; he went out immediately after dinner."
"Go with me, Mother, will you? It is lovely, and I want you to see the spot where I have spent so many hours listening to the waves as they came around the sand-bar."
Mrs. Hamilton consented, and the ladies alighted while Lily was saying, "Fanny, my mother has come to thank you for all your kindness and care of her child for so many years. Mrs. Colonel Hamilton—my mother!"