Mr. Amory rose and flung his arm over the shoulder and around the waist of Gertrude, who was passing on her way to hand the newspaper to Mr. Graham, and who, not having heard the remark of Mr. Clinton, received the caress with a sweet smile and an upturned face. "Here," said he, "Mr. Clinton, is the person who saved the life of your daughter. It is true that I swam with her to the shore; but it was under the mistaken impression that I was bearing to a place of safety my own darling child, whom I little suspected then of having voluntarily relinquished to another her only apparent chance of rescue."
"Just like you, Gertrude! Just like you!" shouted Kitty and Fanny in a breath, each struggling to obtain a foremost place in the little circle that had gathered round her.
"My own noble Gertrude!" whispered Emily, as, leaning on Mr. Amory's arm, she pressed Gertrude's hand to her lips.
"Oh, Gertrude!" exclaimed Isabel, with tears in her eyes, "I didn't know. I never thought——"
"Your child?" cried Mrs. Graham's loud voice, interrupting Isabel's unfinished exclamation.
"Yes, my child, thank God!" said Mr. Amory, reverently; "restored at last to her unworthy father, and—you have no secrets here, my darling?"—Gertrude shook her head, and glanced at Willie, who now stood at her side "and gladly bestowed by him upon her faithful and far more deserving lover." And he placed her hand in Willie's.
There was a moment's pause. All were impressed with the solemnity of the action. Then Mr. Graham came forward, shook each of the young couple heartily by the hand, and, passing his sleeve hastily across his eyes, sought his customary refuge in the library.
"Gertrude," said Fanny, pulling Gertrude's dress to attract her attention, and speaking in a loud whisper, "are you engaged?—are you engaged to him?"
"Yes," whispered Gertrude, anxious, if possible, to gratify Fanny's curiosity and silence her questioning.
"Oh, I'm so glad! I'm so glad!" shouted Fanny, dancing round the room and flinging up her arms.