"It does—it really does; I feel that he is good and true and worthy."
"I am sure he is, dear," said Helen heartily; "and if you can give him the welcome he craves, and so help to make his life brighter in the future, it will give me joy to have you reunited."
"That is simply angelic of you, mamma," Dorothy eagerly exclaimed. Then, leaning nearer, she looked deep into her mother's eyes. "And you, dearest?" she questioned.
But her mother's lips were mute.
They held each other's gaze in silence for a minute; then Helen bent forward and softly kissed her daughter on the lips. It was as if she had said: "That book is sealed forever."
Dorothy's beautiful face clouded with a look of keen pain.
"Yes, I can understand," she murmured, scarcely above her breath, and with a regretful sigh. "But you will let him come, as he begs in his letter—you will see him just once, to—to congratulate and wish him well; will you not?"
"Dearest, I have already seen him."
"Mamma! when?" cried Dorothy, startled beyond measure.
"Just before you came in—immediately after receiving the package. He could not wait for a reply to his letter—I had barely finished reading it when he came. He is here now—in the library—waiting to see you."