As Beauchamp spoke, he turned round slowly in his chair, in order to address the widow; but the words had scarcely passed his lips, when he started up. Looking in at the door, indeed, was the figure of his sister, with the poor widow behind her; but between him and them were two other figures--and darting forward, with all his doubts, and apprehensions, and restitutions swallowed up in joy, Beauchamp clasped the hand of Blanche Delaware in his own, while his left was pressed almost as warmly by Captain Delaware.
"Good God!" he exclaimed. "Blanche! William! Is it possible!"
"Yes, yes, indeed!" replied Captain Delaware. "Beauchamp, our friend, our benefactor, our guardian angel I may call you, we have met again, at length!"
Blanche Delaware said not a word; and though her eyes sparkled with joy that would not be kept down, and her cheek glowed like crimson at the joy her eyes betrayed, she trembled like an aspen in the wind, and, sinking into a seat, a few sweet, happy tears rolled over her fair face.
"Well," said Miss Beauchamp, advancing from the door, "I must acknowledge that this is hardly fair--that I, who drew Mrs. Harrison out of the way when I heard who was coming, in order that this merry meeting should have none of its surprise anticipated, can find no one to welcome _me!_ Blanche Delaware, my dear cousin," she added, taking Blanche's hand, and kissing her as a sister, "How have you been this many a day? We have not met since we were no higher than that stool; but I have learned to love you, nevertheless. Have you quite forgotten Maria Beauchamp?"
Blanche wept outright.
"What then, Mr. Beauchamp, have you not seen Sir Sidney?" asked the widow's son, almost at the same moment. "It was very kind indeed of you to come and see me first."
As he spoke, a violent fit of coughing seized him; and Beauchamp, seeing that the excitement of all that was passing around was too much for him, proposed to depart at once, telling him that he would come early the next day, after having seen the physician. Miss Beauchamp, holding Blanche's hand kindly in her own, led her toward the door of the cottage, while their two brothers followed; and perhaps there was never a congregation of happier faces went forth into the world, than those which then stood looking over fair France from the borders of Switzerland.
Maria Beauchamp turned toward the town; but Blanche hesitated, and looked up to her brother.
William Delaware caught her glance immediately, and, straightforward as ever, came at once to the point. "The truth is, Beauchamp," he said, "it might be somewhat painful for us to go up to Poligny with you; for, this morning, we learned a circumstance from our old housekeeper, which, in fact, kept us from coming down to widow Harrison's at an earlier hour--though, indeed, I should personally care nothing about it."