"Taken to the woods," replied Jack, promptly. "But—well, they all do it there, of course; and I saw the gnadige Frau—Frau J.—expected it when I went to dine there, so—so I learned. But all the time, Hilda, I thought I was only learning so that I could kiss your mother's hand,—and yours!"
"Dear lad!" said Hilda. "Mamma will be pleased; she always wishes people would be 'more graceful in their greetings.' Can't you hear her say it? But why do we stand here, when she is waiting for us in her room? She has rheumatism to-day, so I would not let her come down, poor darling; and here I am keeping you all to myself, like the highwayman I am."
"Yes, I always thought you were cut out for a highwayman," said Jack. "Come along, then! I have a thousand things to tell you both."
Hand in hand, like happy children, the two ran up-stairs. Mrs. Grahame was waiting with open arms. Indeed, she had been the first to hear the notes of the violin; and her cry—"Hilda! Jack is come! our boy is come!"—had brought Hildegarde flying from the recesses of the linen-closet. Her eyes were full of happy tears; and when Jack bent to kiss her hand, she folded him warmly in her arms, and pressed more than one kiss on his broad forehead.
"My boy!" she said. "My boy has come back to me! Hilda, it is your brother; do you understand? It is as if my little son, who went away so long ago, had been sent back to me."
"Yes, Mother," said Hildegarde, softly. "I know; we both know, Jack and I. Dear Mother, blessed one! let the tears come a little; it will do you good."
They were silent for a little. The two young people pressed close to the elder woman, who felt the years surge up around her like a flood; but there was no bitterness in the waters, only sweet and sacred depths of love and memory. The boy and girl, filled with a passionate longing to cheer and comfort her whom they loved so dearly, felt perhaps more pain than she did, for they were too young to have seen the smile on the face of sorrow.
But now Mrs. Grahame was smiling again.
"Dears!" she said. "Dear children! They are such happy tears, you must not mind them. And now they are all gone, and that is enough about me, and too much. Jack, sit down on that stool; draw it close, so that I can see you in the firelight. So! And you are there, Hilda?"
"On the other stool!" said Hildegarde. "Here we are, love, close beside you."