“Maybe I shouldn’t have told you,” said Agnes, looking concerned. “But my heart was so full I could not help it.”
“Where is your mother?” asked Florence, after a pause.
“In the library, with father,” replied Agnes.
“Will you remain for a little while with Madeline? I wish to see your mother. You will stay with your sister, dear, until I come back?” And she stooped over Madeline.
“You won’t stay long, will you?”
“No. I will return soon.” And she arose and left the chamber.
Since the remark of Mrs. Dainty, with which the preceding chapter closed, no words had passed between her and her husband. They were still sitting in the library, when the door was pushed quietly open, and the subject of their recent conversation entered. A glance at her almost pale face showed that her feelings were strongly agitated. Her manner, as she crossed the room toward Mrs. Dainty, was subdued and respectful. The latter rose as Florence approached her. The struggle with herself was powerful, but brief. Suddenly her cold face was broken by rippling smiles, and, with a warmth of tone and manner that was remarkable, considering the real state of her feelings, she said, grasping the young girl’s hand, and kissing her,—
“We have heard all, dear Miss Harper, and take you to our home and hearts. Be to us as a daughter, and to our children, who love you, as an elder sister.”
“Welcome! Thrice welcome!” said Mr. Dainty, offering his hand.
Florence was so much overcome by this unexpected reception that she was unable to reply. Her face remained pale and strongly agitated. Before self-control was regained, Mr. Fleetwood entered the library.