Lady O'Gara left Terry in the cheerful room and went up the winding staircase. As she entered Stella's room she had an idea that the place had become more home-like with Mrs. Wade's presence. Mrs. Wade was wearing the white dress of a nurse and a nurse's cap, the white strings tied under her chin. The room was cosy in fire and lamplight and yet very fresh. Stella was awake. She turned her head weakly on the pillow and smiled at Lady O'Gara.
"My darling child, this is an improvement," Lady O'Gara said, quite joyfully.
"My mother has come back," Stella whispered, and put out a thin little hand to Mrs. Wade, who had stood up at the other side of the bed and was still standing as though she waited for Lady O'Gara to bid her be seated.
"I am very glad," Lady O'Gara said, and bent to kiss Stella's forehead.
It was cool and a little moist. The fever had quite departed.
"You should not have gone away and left her," she said reproachfully to
Mrs. Wade. "You see she cannot do without you."
"I shall not leave her again," Mrs. Wade said. "She chooses me before all the world."
Oh, poor Terry! There was something of a definite choice in the words. They meant that Stella had chosen her mother before all the world might give her. And the poor boy was sitting just below them, bearing the time of waiting with as much patience as possible, listening to the sounds upstairs, his mother divined, with a beating heart.
"Won't you sit down?" said Lady O'Gara. "I cannot sit till you do."
"Thank you," replied Mrs. Wade, and sat down the other side of Stella. Her profile in the nurse's cap showed against the lamplight. It was a beautiful soft, composed profile, like Stella's own. And her manner was perfect in its quiet dignity. A Nature's lady, Lady O'Gara said to herself.
Lady O'Gara could not have told what inspired her next speech. It was certainly not premeditated.