Then Miss Hatty had to be told who Rusty was, and what a dear dog he was, and how hard it had been to part with him, and how Arthur hoped there would be some horses for him to hold at Dalecourt, or errands to be run, so that he could earn money enough to buy him back again.
It was too dark for them to see anything of the Park, once so carefully kept, but now neglected and overgrown, through which they drove for half a mile after turning in at the Dalecourt gateway; but Arthur felt a thrill of happiness when his cousin told him where they were. It seemed incredible that his long, weary journey, with all its hunger and cold and suffering, was past, and that he was really at the home he had so longed to reach. How beautiful it was to be welcomed so warmly and lovingly, when he had sometimes feared they might not even receive him at all.
At length the carriage stopped before a great rambling house, that had been very stately and handsome in bygone years; but which was now so dilapidated and shabby as to be but a forlorn relic of its former glory. However, it still contained much of comfort and good cheer; and, as the great front door was flung open, the warm glow of a huge log fire sprang out upon the cold darkness, and drove it back. It seemed to Arthur as though the very house offered him a welcome of light and warmth, and he loved it from that moment.
From the open doorway stepped an elderly gentleman, with iron-gray hair and mustache, and an erect military bearing, who called out:
“Welcome home, Niece Harriet! We’ve had lonely holidays without you; and right glad am I to have you back again.”
“No more so than I am to be here, uncle!” exclaimed Miss Hatty, springing lightly from the carriage and heartily kissing the elderly gentleman, who was Colonel Arthur Dale, of Dalecourt, and Arthur’s grandfather. “And, uncle, I’ve brought home a friend of yours, whom I picked up on the road. He is the very boy you were speaking of so recently, who saved your train, in the Alleghanies, from a collision.”
“Eh! what’s that?” cried Colonel Dale. “You have found that boy? How in the name of goodness—But bring him in! Bring him in where we can have a look at him. It’s too cold to stand out here any longer.”
So the young lady followed her uncle into the glowing hall, leading Arthur by the hand, while Uncle Phin hobbled after them. The boy’s mind was filled with a whirl of conflicting emotions, as he stepped, for the first time, across the threshold of his mother’s home, and gazed on the form of his nearest living relative. Had he tried to speak at that moment his feelings would have choked him; but he gave no outward sign of his mental condition, except by clasping more firmly the kind hand that led him forward.
When fairly within the circle of ruddy firelight, that filled the oak-panelled interior with its cheery glow, Colonel Dale turned for a look at the stranger whom his niece had so curiously discovered and brought home with her. As his glance fell on the ragged little figure at her side, the words that were upon his lips died away, a sudden pallor overspread his countenance, and he gazed in silence.
What did he see in that sweet face, now so thin and careworn? In its brave blue eyes? In the fair head of clustering ringlets? What was it that, for a moment, rendered him speechless and powerless to do aught save stare? It seemed to him that he saw a spirit.