"I knew I was!" said Jack Ferrers. "Oh, Hilda, how have you done it? How was it possible for you to do it? My dear—"
He was stepping forward eagerly; but two voices cried out suddenly, one in terror, it seemed, the other,—was it joy or pain? The girl at the piano turned round; even in the dark, Jack knew instantly that it was not his cousin. He looked helplessly towards the door, and there stood another shadowy figure; what did it all mean? But now, after that pause of an instant, this second figure came forward with outstretched arms.
"My dear, dearest old Jack! I have been listening; I could not speak at first. Oh, welcome, dear old fellow! Welcome home a hundred thousand times!"
Ah! now Jack knew where he was. This was the welcome he had thought of, dreamed of, all the way home across the ocean. This was the surprise that he had planned, and carried out so perfectly. This was Hilda herself, in flesh and blood; his best friend, better than any sister could be. These were her kind, tender eyes, this was her sweet, cordial voice, in which you felt the heart beating true and steady,—all was just as he had pictured it in many a lonely hour during the past two years. Only,—only, who was it he had gone to heaven with just now? A stranger!
Before his bewildered mind could grasp anything more, Hildegarde had put out her hand, and caught the silent shape that was flitting past her through the doorway.
"No!" she cried. "You shall not go! It is absurd for you two to pretend to be strangers, after you have been playing together like that; absurd, and you both know it. Bell, of course you know this is my cousin Jack, whom I have so wanted you to meet. Jack, I have written you of my friend Isabel Merryweather. Oh, oh, my dears! It was so beautiful! So beautiful! And I am so happy,—I really think I am going to cry!"
"Oh, don't!" cried Bell and Jack together; and the sheer terror in their voices made Hildegarde laugh instead.
"And you thought it was I!" she cried, still a little hysterical. "Jack, how could you? I thought better of you!"
"I—I didn't see how it could be," said honest Jack. "I didn't see how you could possibly have done it in two years, or,—or in a lifetime, for that matter; but how could I suppose,—how could I know—"
"You couldn't, of course. Oh, and to think of all the delight you are going to give us, the two of you! Jack, your playing is—I can't tell you what it is. My dear, I am afraid to light the lamp. Shall I see a totally different Jack from the old one? You have learned such an infinity, haven't you?"