She had risen from her seat with clasped hands.
“Mr. Somerset, Mr. Somerset!” she gasped.
He rose too.
“Trust me,” he said, gently leading her mind to its new attitude. “I would not stir expectation ever so lightly for nothing. To-day I have received a message from the shipping office to deliver to you. Listen! The long looked-for word has come at last. Charlie lives! Charlie is quite well! Charlie is coming home! He is on his way!”
Lucy did not faint. She did not cry out. She sat quite quiet for a moment, and then broke into a peal of low happy laughter, which died away in a flood of soft healing tears, from which she looked up and said—
“Is it all true? Is it quite true? I can scarcely believe it!”
(To be continued.)