"I have been growing old fast of late, aunty," she said to Mrs. Ellicott. "Ger does not change a bit, unless it is to look younger and fairer. I feel so staid and middle-aged beside her."
The trembling lip and a suspicious moisture in her eyes told that Kathleen was looking back on the saddest period of her life.
"You will grow younger again here, Kitty," replied Ger. "In this quiet home you will begin a new life, and in time it will be a bright and happy one."
But the cloud did not soon pass away from Kathleen's spirit. She seldom spoke of her husband, and her friends felt it to be the truest kindness to allude to the past as little as possible. They knew that, far and beyond all other causes of sorrow, the thought of Mr. Torrance's condition when the last dread summons came was the most terrible of all.
In time, however, the widowed Mrs. Torrance became more like the Kathleen Mountford of old, but there was no trace of the girlish self-will that had led her astray. The lessons she had learned through suffering had produced blessed and enduring results, which each day made more manifest. Mrs. Ellicott only lived a year after Mr. Torrance, and her gentle presence was greatly missed by all who knew her, especially by her daughter and niece.
During the three years of Ralph's minority, the Hollingsby Hall estates were well managed, and though not free from encumbrance when he came of age, all debts and a portion of the mortgage had been paid off. There were no special festivities on Ralph's twenty-first birthday, as every one—none more than himself—felt that such would have been out of place. Kathleen, however, laid aside her widow's dress, and wore a rich black silk with soft white lace at the wrists and throat, in honour of the occasion.
"Mother, how beautiful you look!" said Ralph, as he held her at arm's length, and surveyed her from head to foot. "You have really grown young again. I am so glad you have changed your style of dress."
"I did so in compliment to the heir's birthday," she replied. Then clasping her arms round him she kissed him tenderly and said, "I pray that God may abundantly bless you, my dear boy, and make you a useful, happy man. A true soldier and follower of Christ."
"That is just what I want to be, mother dear," said Ralph, after returning the embrace, and whilst still holding her in his strong arms. "You know that I promised to tell you to-day what profession I meant to follow, for I should dread the thought of an idle life. I used to talk of being a soldier, and then I gave up the idea. I still wish to be one, but to fight under the greatest of all Captains, and not with weapons forged by the hands of men. Do you know what I mean?"
"I think I do, dear. You wish to be a true soldier of Christ, and you think you can best serve Him by dedicating your life to the ministry."