“Dear child, I know she will be so happy to see me again!” she exclaimed, excitedly; and her brother looked in surprise and delight at her charming, animated face, which was flushed to a soft, roseate color, while her dark-blue eyes sparkled with feeling. “You look like a girl again, Edith,” he said, admiringly. “Nonsense!” she laughed. Then she added, with a pensive glance: “Why, I am old enough to be Thea’s mother and her child’s grandmother. I wish I were!” and tears sprung to her gentle eyes. “You will have to adopt them as such,” Lord Stuart said, lightly; but he put his arm around her, and soothed her tenderly as though she were a child, and presently their carriage was stopping at the white gates of beautiful Verelands. “Just a few more minutes, and I shall see her. Oh, what happiness!” Lady Edith cried, with the eagerness of a child. “If she should be out calling or driving, I do not see how you could bear the shock of disappointment, Edith,” her brother said, good-humoredly. “Alan Arthur would be at home anyhow, so I should amuse myself with him till his pretty mamma returned,” she replied, gayly, as he handed her out of the carriage; and they entered the white gates, within which they were destined to meet such a terrible disappointment. CHAPTER LXIV. “There is nobody at home, sir, but Mrs. de Vere. She is ill, and will see no one,” said the tidy negro girl who answered the bell. “She will see us, for we have come from England to see her,” Lady Edith exclaimed, impetuously; while she wondered why every one had gone away and left her dear Thea ill and alone. “Yes, she will see us when she knows our names,” said Lord Stuart, putting two cards into her hand with a silver coin that made her show all her fine white teeth in a grin of delight. “I’ll ask Mrs. de Vere’s maid. She is the mistress here, it seems,” said the girl, in a tone of discontent. Then she ushered them into a pretty reception-room. “You can wait here till I find out,” she said. When they were alone, Lady Edith looked at her brother with questioning eyes. “Is it not strange for Mr. de Vere and his mother to leave Thea alone and sick?” she asked. “I do not understand it,” he replied; and a cloud of anxiety came over his face. He thought of the false telegram that had summoned Norman de Vere to New York. What if he had never returned? What if there were foul play somewhere? He waited most impatiently a few minutes, then the door unclosed, and a woman appeared on the threshold. Lord Stuart gave a violent start, for time had scarcely touched Finette, and in the creature before him he at once recognized Camille’s maid. He could not repress a slight shudder of disgust when her snaky black eyes, after sweeping curiously over his sister, fixed themselves upon him.