“Yes, my dear child, let me lean upon you.”
They walked slowly after the young party—Rosamond followed.
“I am afraid,” said Mrs. Hungerford, as she leaned more upon Caroline, “I am afraid I shall tire you, my dear.”
“Oh! no, no!” said Caroline, “not in the least.”
“I am growing so infirm, that I require a stronger arm, a kinder I can never have.”
The door of the antechamber, which opened into the gallery, closed after the young people.
“I am not one of those exigeante mothers who expect always to have possession of a son’s arm,” resumed Mrs. Hungerford: “the time, I knew, would come, when I must give up my colonel.”
“And with pleasure, I am sure, you now give him up, secure of his happiness,” said Caroline.
Mrs. Hungerford stopped short, and looked full on Caroline, upon whom she had previously avoided to turn her eyes. From what anxiety did Caroline’s serene, open countenance, and sweet ingenuous smile, at this instant, relieve her friend! Old as she was, Mrs. Hungerford had quick and strong feelings. For a moment she could not speak—she held out her arms to Caroline, and folded her to her heart.
“Excellent creature!” said she—“Child of my affections—that you must ever be!”