“Are we to go home with you now?”
“Yes.”
Cecilia smiled and closed her eyes. Did she thus understand San Donato’s message at last?
Madame Robin will not be installed as housekeeper in the master’s house. In the future, Mrs. Denvil, with the reaction of a shallow nature, may make trips to better climates for her neuralgia, or Jack be absent at college; but Henry Denvil—nay, the very foundry—cannot be more constant to the spot than his daughter. There will be no balls for her, clad in satin, pearls and diamonds twinkling in her hair and about her throat, no dancing days, no début in society as an heiress. Instead, Cecilia will flit from room to room of the long silent home in a wheel-chair, a presence bright, cheerful, watchful, now pausing in the sunny conservatory where each unfolding flower seems aware of her presence, now awaiting the father’s return from work.
Above the entrance door will be enshrined the image of San Donato, guardian of the home, whose mission is to avert evil.
Footnote:
[A] It is supposed that Mr. Demming intended to say “interred.”