“So you shall,” promised Miss Heath. “My home is to be in New York, or near it, and I hope we shall love each other very dearly, Gretel.”
“Then I am just as glad as I can be!” cried impulsive Gretel, and she threw her arms round Miss Heath’s neck and hugged her.
Miss Heath returned the embrace heartily, and then she took Gretel’s hand, and held it, as she went on with her story.
“I have known the—the gentleman for several years,” she said. “We met in China, and he and my father were very good friends, but when my father was taken ill, and we left Hong-Kong suddenly, we lost sight of each other for a time. When my dear father died I was very unhappy and very lonely. I came to New York by myself, and hired a hall bedroom in a boarding-house. I could not afford anything better, for my father was not rich, and when he died there was very little money left. I have an uncle in Chicago, who wanted to help me, but he has a large family of his own, and I did not want to be a burden to him. So I struggled along as well as I could, giving music lessons to the few pupils I could obtain, but it was a very different life from that to which I had been accustomed. When you told me about your life at Mrs. Marsh’s, and how you used to long for a little music, I thought of myself in the sad, lonely days last winter.
“But one day, just when things seemed about as bad and hopeless as they could be, I received a kind letter from Mrs. Barlow, asking me to join her family, come down here with them, and teach the children for the rest of the season. That was less than a month ago, but since then everything has changed for me, and now I am so happy that I don’t feel as if I could ever be sad or lonely again.”
“I’m just as glad as I can be,” declared Gretel, heartily; “it’s the nicest story I ever heard, but—but, would you mind telling me about how you found the gentleman again?”
“I found him right here at Old Point; wasn’t it wonderful, Gretel? We had both come here without having the least idea of finding each other.”
“Do Jerry and Geraldine know about it?” asked Gretel.
“Not yet, but they will to-morrow. I wanted you to know first, because—well, you see, Gretel dear, you know the gentleman.”
“I know him!” cried Gretel, sitting up in bed, and regarding her friend with wide, astonished eyes. “Why, I don’t know any gentleman except Percy and Mr. Barlow, and—oh, Miss Heath, I hope he isn’t that old Mr. Oliver, with the bald head.”