A few words were spent on wonder and censure on the girl's silence, more unjust than they knew, but hardly wasted, since they relieved the tension. Mary slid down on her knees beside her friend, and then came a silence of intense heart-swelling, choking, and unformed, but none the less true thanksgiving, and ending in a mutual embrace and an outcry of Mary's-- 'Oh, Adela! how good you are, you with no such hope'--and that great blessed shower of tears that relieved her was ostensibly the burst of sympathy for the bereaved mother with no such restoration in view. Then came soothing words, and then the endeavour with dazed eyes and throbbing hearts to look out the trains from Liverpool, whence, to their amazement, they saw the telegram had started, undoubtedly from Lord Northmoor. There was not too large a choice, and finally Lady Adela made the hope seem real by proposing preparations for the child's supper and bed--things of which Mary seemed no more to have dared to think than if she had been expecting a little spirit; but which gave her hope substance, and inspired her with fresh energy and a new strength, as she ran up and downstairs, directing her maid, who cried for joy at the news, and then going out to purchase those needments which had become such tokens of exquisite hope and joy. After this had once begun, she seemed really incapable of sitting still, for every moment she thought of something her boy would want or would like, or hurried to see if all was right. Constance begged again and again to run on the messages, but she would not allow it, and when the girl looked grieved, and said she was tiring herself to death, Lady Adela said-- 'My dear, sitting still would be worse for her. However it may turn out, fatigue will be best for her.' 'Surely it can't mean anything else!' cried Constance. 'I don't see how it can. Your uncle weighs his words too much to raise false hopes.' So, dark as it was by the time the train was expected, Adela promoted the ordering a carriage, and went herself with the trembling Mary to the station, not without restoratives in her bag, in case of, she knew not what. Not a word was spoken, but hands were clasped and hearts were uplifted in an agony of supplication, as the two sat in the dark on the drive to the station. Of course they were too soon, but the driver manoeuvred so as to give them a full view of the exit--and then came that minute of indescribable suspense when the sounds of arrival were heard, and figures began to issue from the platform. It was not long--thanks to freedom from luggage--before there came into full light a well-known form, with a little half-awake boy holding his hand.