Raife took his mother in his arms and reverently kissed her on the forehead, saying, with a happy laugh: "You dear, darling mother! Never fear for me. I will not forget that I am a Reymingtoune." As he left the room Lady Remington turned to the window and wiped away a tear. Raife almost ran down the staircase, and, bursting into the room, called out cheerily to Hilda and her father: "Come along, good folks, and meet my dear old mother. She is upstairs and awaits you." The close scrutiny of the servants was easy to bear. Hilda's heart fluttered as they climbed the wide old staircase and entered the library. Lady Remington was standing to receive them. Raife started to present them. "Mother, this is--" He did not finish. Hilda, with a charming impulse, had crossed the room with both hands extended, exclaiming: "You are Raife's mother. Oh, I'm so glad!" The radiance of this beautiful young girl, the charm of her musical voice, and the evident spontaneity of the action, were magical. The stately Lady Remington took the two extended hands and kissed Hilda on both cheeks, saying: "Welcome, Hilda. I am sure I shall like you, and I hope you will like me. May you both be very happy." Mr Muirhead stood by Raife's side, viewing this unconventional scene, where the newer West had conquered the stiffer conventions of the older West by a display of genuine frankness. His handsome face was made the more handsome by the pleased smile that it bore. Raife now presented him to his mother with more formality than Hilda had allowed in her case. When Lady Remington and Mr Muirhead had left the room to stroll around the gardens, Hilda exclaimed: "Oh, Raife. This is all very wonderful. I did not believe such places existed outside storybooks. Your mother is a darling. I love her already. I'm glad I don't have to stamp my foot and shake my fist, as I told you I would in Cairo, if she didn't like me." Raife kissed her again and again, and through the kisses said: "How do you know she likes you?" Imitating Raife's accents, she said: "Woman's instinct, dear boy, woman's instinct. Besides, she wouldn't have kissed me so hard if she didn't like me." The words were hardly finished when he seized her, exclaiming: "That settles it! Then I'll show you I more than like you, I love you!" And he kissed her until she pretended that it hurt. Now, at last, were Raife's ideals realised, and complete happiness was nearly his. There could be no other spectres or phantoms to cast a shadow over their pure love. Hilda broke away and ran to the other side of the room. The window was open and she looked out, crying: "Oh, do come, Raife, look at that wonderful clump of rhododendrons."