"We have been delayed--we took a wrong road--we've been riding for hours to find the place--hadn't the right direction."--Then looking keenly at Fleda, from whose vision an electric spark of intelligence had scattered the clouds, she said;
"I am Marion Rossitur."
"I knew it!" said Fleda, with lips and eyes that gave her already a sister's welcome; and they were folded in each other's arms almost as tenderly and affectionately, on the part of one at least, as if there had really been the relationship between them. But more than surprise and affection struck Fleda's heart.
"And where are they all, Fleda? Can't I see them?"
"You must wait till I have prepared them--Hugh and aunt Lucy are not very well. I don't know that it will do for you to see them at all to-night, Marion."
"Not to-night! They are not ill?"
"No--only enough to be taken care of--not ill. But it would be better to wait"
"And my father?"
"He is not at home."
Marion exclaimed in sorrow, and Fleda to hide the look that she felt was on her face stooped down to kiss the child. He was a remarkably fine-looking manly boy.