“Mother, my mother,” Gertie said again, delighted to repeat the dear name, and then it was that Edith parted the curtains and looked in upon her. Oh, the rapturous joy of that first long gaze when eye met eye, and told without the aid of words the mighty love there was between the mother and the child meeting as such for the first time in the full sense of the relation. My pen cannot describe it, neither should it if it could, for there are some scenes over which a vail must be thrown, and this is one of them. Suffice it to say that Edith was perfectly satisfied with Gertie’s reception of her, and when, an hour later, Colonel Schuyler looked into the room he found them fast asleep, both heads on the same pillow, Edith’s arms around Gertie’s neck, and one of Gertie’s pale, wan hands resting on Edith’s face. This picture touched the colonel, and he cried softly to himself as he stood gazing at the two, so like each other in their sleep that he wondered he had never seen the resemblance before. Then he called Miss Rossiter, who came and looked, and cried a little too; but neither spoke a word, and after a moment’s silence went out together, and closing the door left them alone together, the mother and her child. CHAPTER LXI. GODFREY AND GERTIE. “Howard, come here, I wish to speak to you,” Miss Rossiter said, in the quick, decided way she had assumed since so much had been depending upon her, and she had been drawn out of herself. “Howard, what do you mean to do with Gertie? Will you make her really one of your children, and have her share equally with them?” “Really, Christine, I have not thought; it’s a little too soon for that. Why, yes, I rather think—she will share with them,—yes, if Godfrey marries Alice, there would then be more reason why Gertie should share equally, as Godfrey would not need so much, and you know I have had some heavy losses.” “Howard, don’t be a fool. Godfrey will never marry Alice, nor anybody else except Gertie Westbrooke, and you know that, or ought to know it. I learned it those days I took care of him when Gertie was with me, and I got to liking her in spite of myself. I am not a deceitful woman, Howard, and I will not say that I am altogether satisfied with Edith. It is not in my nature to feel that people of her rank in life are fully my equals, but I shall always treat her well for Gertie’s sake and Godfrey’s. I cannot understand it, but that child has grown strangely into my heart since she has been sick here in my house. They say we always love what has cost us trouble and made us forget ourselves, and I think I love her better than I have loved anything since Charlie died, and I intend to make her my _heir_, and if she only would stay with me I’d keep her so gladly. I have told you this, Howard, so that _money_ need not stand between you and your consent for Godfrey to make Gertie his wife.”