But it was a moving spectacle throughout; Celestia Ann, peering in at the door, cried heartily from very sympathy, and Flora Weston, feeling like an intruder upon the sacred privacy of the family, stole quietly away to Dr. Landreth's, leaving word with Celestia Ann that she had gone "thinking it time for an invalid to be in bed."
But it was long before her absence was noticed.
Rupert did not attempt to tell his story that night; it was much too long, he said; to-morrow he would gather them all about him, if they liked, and go into the details. In the mean while there is something which he must say at once.
"I shall greatly surprise you all, I know," he said, with a happy smile. "Mother, dear," turning to her, "do not be shocked when I tell you that I have brought a wife with me."
He read a look of astonishment, not unmixed with dismay, on every face; but they waited in silence to hear what more he had to say.
"She is a Mexican," he went on, "of Spanish descent, and very beautiful, I think; but, better still, she is a Protestant and a real Christian, so far as man may judge. We were fellow-captives, and I doubtless owe my life to her kind and skilful nursing."
"Then we will all welcome her!" exclaimed both his parents in a breath. "Where is she now?"
"At the hotel; she feared to come upon you without previous announcement; in fact, she is very much afraid of being unwelcome as it is," Rupert answered, with a wistful glance from one to another of the loved faces about him.
"Tell her she needn't," cried Mildred, with impulsive warmth. "Say that we owe her a debt of gratitude it will be impossible ever to pay, if she is a good and loving wife to the dear brother whose life she has saved."
"Yes, tell her that," said his mother. "Go and bring her to us. She shall have a daughter's welcome from me."