"It is a sweet face," said Gipsy, heaving a wistful little sigh. "Who knows whether the original be living or dead? Oh, Aunty Gower! it may be that I still have a mother living in some quarter of the globe, who is ignorant she yet has a daughter alive. If I could only think so I would travel the world over to find her."
At this moment Totty burst into the room, her black face all aglow with delight.
"Oh, misses! Oh, Misses Sour! Oh, Misses Gipsy! guess who's 'rived," she breathlessly exclaimed.
"Who? who?" exclaimed both, eagerly.
"Young Marse Louis! he's down in de parlor wid——"
But without waiting to hear more, Gipsy sprang from the room, burst into the parlor, and beheld Louis standing in the middle of the floor, and the living counterpart of the picture she had just seen, leaning on his arm!
"Gipsy! my sister!" he exclaimed, but before he could advance toward her, a wild, passionate cry broke from the lips of the strange lady, as she sprang forward, and clasped the astonished Gipsy in her arms.
"My daughter! my daughter!" she cried, covering her face with burning kisses.
Gipsy grew deadly pale; she strove to speak; but wonder and joy chained her ever-ready tongue.
"She is your mother, Gipsy," said Louis, answering her wild look. "I leave her to explain all to you; your letters first revealed all to me. But Celeste—where is she?"