She was about to follow her when she saw her hastening back, light of foot, bringing with her a gentleman. Lotte was at no loss to guess who he was.
Helen led her husband to the side of the sleeping child. She pointed to it, and in low quivering tones she exclaimed—
“Thus has she fulfilled her trust!”
Hugh gazed on his child, and then he turned to Lotte. She could see his eyes were humid, He caught her hands and sank on his knees with a sudden impulse before her.
She started; and as he pressed his lips almost impetuously on her hands, she struggled to withdraw them, crying—
“Pray rise, sir, pray do; I entreat you to do so. You distress me—you pain me, indeed you do.”
But Hugh still detained her.
“Pardon me!” he said, speaking rapidly and earnestly. “The position is not derogatory to me; it is a tribute to your worth. This is no occasion for cold form. I kneel to you in intense thankfulness; it is the prompting—the outpouring of a full heart. You saved my Helen! she who is dearer to me than life itself; you have saved and tenderly nurtured our child! By these two acts you have also rescued me from destruction and eternal perdition. I kneel to you that I may give some sign of the keen sense of my indebtedness to you—that you may in the coming time feel entitled to the position in which it is my intention to place you—justly entitled without one shrinking impulse or doubting impression. On my knees I thank you”—he rose up—“in my heart I treasure the memory of your service, and by my future acts I will strive to show how deeply and dearly I estimate it.”
Lotte faltered out some confused response, and ran out of the room to conceal her emotion.
By this time the little fellow, nestled in the cradle, had opened his infantile eyes, and turning them upon his mother, smiled.