So the man looked in wonder at the strange young girl with the rich golden hair and flashing dark eyes who stepped across the threshold as if she belonged there, and said to him with gentle imperiousness:
"Tell your master there is a young lady to see him."
Without waiting for a reply, Kathleen brushed past the astonished servant, entered a small reception-room on her right, and sat down to await the entrance of her father.
She had not mentioned her name, because she wanted to take him by surprise.
She wanted to see the joy-light flash into his handsome face when she should throw herself into his arms and cry out, tenderly:
"Papa, darling, it is I, your little Kathleen, come home to you again!"
How glad he would be to see her again! He had always loved her so fondly that his heart must have almost broken when they told him she was dead.
And how glad he would be to have her back again. How his eyes would flash when she told him how wretchedly she had been treated. He would certainly call in the strong arm of the law to punish her persecutors. Only she did not want them to do anything to old Mrs. Hoover, the kind matron who had befriended her in the asylum.
She sunk down into a beautiful satin chair with a sigh of relief at getting back to papa and home again—her beautiful home, so warm, so luxurious, filled with the rich odor of hot-house flowers, in strong contrast to the storm raging bleakly outside.