“Yes, Barbara, it is best to get it over. I will come.”
At the appointed hour they arrived at Ashley Mansions. Mrs. Pelham was alone in the old drawing-room where Dick had so often greeted her in the presence of little Piers.
Barbara in her rich furs, her eyes sparkling and the color of health and happiness on her cheeks, made a lovely picture as she advanced eagerly into the room. She held out both her hands, and tears of sympathy filled her eyes. She put her arms round the little widow’s neck and kissed her. Mrs. Pelham received her with effusion, but her real anxiety was to get a glimpse of Dick.
“Ah!” she said, “you have come at last.” She looked full up into the young man’s face and burst into tears.
“I didn’t think you would have left me so long,” she continued. “I thought you would have been a son to me now.”
She sobbed audibly. Pelham was visibly affected. Mrs. Pelham sat down, and he placed himself near her. Presently she held out one of her hands and invited him to clasp it in his.
“No one in all the world is as dear to me as you are now,” she said.
“I thought that under the circumstances you would rather not see me,” said Pelham.
“What a strange thought to come to you! You certainly were wrong. Do you think I grudge you what once belonged to him? I am not quite so base as that.”
“Dick has been in very low spirits since little Piers’s death,” said Barbara suddenly. “He felt his death dreadfully. He loved him as if he were his own brother.”