"You are about to lose your only son?" she gasped. "May Heaven pity you!" She was almost about to add: "If I could save his life by giving my own, oh, how gladly I would do it!"
Mrs. Garner saw the look on her face, and rightly interpreted it.
"Do not misunderstand me," she added, hastily. "I do not mean that I am to lose him by death. My son is soon to be married."
Chapter XXVIII.
For a moment the room seemed to whirl around Dorothy. The words seemed to strike into her very brain as they fell from Mrs. Garner's lips. "My son is soon to be married!" and the four walls seemed to repeat and re-echo them.
"I shall lose a son, but I shall gain a dear daughter," added the old lady, softly.
For an instant, as Dorothy sat trembling there, the impulse was strong upon her to fly from the house. The very air seemed to stifle her.
While she hesitated, fate settled the matter for her. The front door was opened by some one who had a latch-key, and a voice that thrilled every fiber of her being addressed some question to a servant passing through the corridor.
"Here is my son coming at last!" exclaimed the old lady, in pleased eagerness.
"Jack—Jack, my dear!" she called; "I am in the drawing-room. Step in a moment, my son;" and before Dorothy could collect her scattered senses the portières were parted by a strong, white hand, and Jack Garner stood on the threshold.