Tom and Mr. Harding were outside the porch together when the carriage drew up. While Mr. Harding talked to Rose, Tom drew his aunt aside.
“Aunt Lucy, will you go up to Rhoda?” he whispered.
She gave him one shining look, and went quickly in.
Rhoda had heard the carriage enter, and was standing in the middle of the room when Miss Merivale softly knocked and entered. There was a tremulous, eager, anxious look in the girl’s face. Happy as she was, she could not be quite happy till she was sure Miss Merivale was content.
But it was only a tiny shadow of doubt that clouded the brightness, and when Miss Merivale clasped her close, and kissed her as fondly and tenderly as she had kissed Rose a little while before, it nearly all fled away.
“My dear, I am delighted,” Miss Merivale said, with happy tears in her voice. “Tom has always been like a son to me, and now you will be my daughter.”
“And you are not sorry you asked me here?” Rhoda whispered. She felt she must ask the question once.
“Ask Tom if he thinks I am sorry,” returned Miss Merivale, kissing her again. And this was answer enough. Rhoda doubted no more.