“What?” asked Herbert.
“Escapes, my dear,” said the old lady very solemnly.
Herbert drew a deep, quivering breath.
“Then,” said Mrs. Heywood, “nothing in the world can call her back—except——”
“Except what?”
“A little child.”
Herbert got up from the hassock and clasped the mantelshelf, and spoke in a low, humble, grateful voice.
“Thank God, Clare has been called back!” he said.
Mrs. Heywood rose from her chair also, and caught hold of her son’s sleeve.
“Yes,” she said, “yes. But even now she will want to spread her wings a little. She must take short flights, Herbert, even now. She must wing her way out to the big world at times. You will remember that, won’t you?”