“Then I sat silent a while, racking my brains to think what I could do to find out whether they really were related to you, and had just decided to tell the child that I knew a young lady who strongly resembled her mother and sister, when some persons left the car, and she changed her seat again for one nearer the rest of the family.”
“And that is all?” Ethel said, drawing a long, sighing breath as Hetty ceased.
“Yes, dear, all,” Hetty answered regretfully, laying her hand tenderly on her friend’s arm. “I wish for your sake there was something more—something certain.”
For a moment Ethel hid her face in her hands; then taking them away, turned toward Hetty, pale, tearful, but with the light of hope shining in her eyes.
“It was my mother,” she whispered. “Something tells me so, and that I shall find her—we shall find each other at last.”
A young man had stepped upon the threshold of the outer door, and was sending a hurried glance about the now crowded room. His eye lighted up as it fell upon Ethel’s graceful figure and fair face, of which he could get but a partial view from where he stood.
In another instant she rose and turned toward him. Their eyes met, she nodded and smiled, said a few words to her companions, then made her way through the throng to his side as he stepped back upon the porch, the other two following.
Arrived in his vicinity, she introduced Mr. Alden to Mrs. and Miss Goodenough. A shaking of hands and exchange of a few commonplace sentences followed, and the four separated, Hetty and her mother returning to the Main Building, while Ethel and Espy sauntered side by side along the avenue in the direction of Memorial Hall, passing it and going some distance beyond.
Although thousands of people were wandering about the houses and grounds, this spacious thoroughfare was not so crowded that they could not with ease keep to themselves and carry on a private conversation without danger of being overheard.