n friendly fashion to the onlookers, none of whom
he knew, but whom he fancied to be acquaintances of his companion. He
himself was altogether a stranger in the town. He felt a chill at the
curious stares, the silent half smiles he encountered, but attributed
that to bucolic reticence, so shrugged his shoulders and turned to
Aurora Lane. Had any at that time heard his speech, they surely must
have felt yet more surprise.

"Mom!" said he. "Mother! I've got a mother, after all--and such a
splendid one! I can't believe it at all--it must all be a dream. To be
an orphan all my life--and then to get word that I'm not--that I've a
mother, after all--and you! Why, I'd have known you anyhow, I'm sure, if
I'd never seen you, even from the picture I had. It was when you were a
girl. But you've not changed--you couldn't. And it's you who've been my
mother all the time. It's fine to be home with you at last. So this is
the town where you have lived--that I've never seen. And here are all
your friends?"

"Yes, Don," said she, "all I have, pretty much." Aurora Lane's speaking
voice was of extraordinary sweetness.

"Well, you have lived here all your life."

"Yes," she smiled.

"And they all know you."

"Oh, yes," noncommittally. "It was too bad you had to be away from me,
Don, boy. You seem like a stranger to me--I can't realize you are here,
that you are my own boy, Dieudonne! I'm afraid of you--I don't know
you--and I'm so proud and frightened, so surprised, so _glad_--why, I
don't know what to do. But I'd have known you anywhere--I _did_ know
you. You're just as I've always dreamed of you--and I'm glad--I'm so
very glad!"

"Mom! I loved your little picture, but I never knew how much I loved
_you_ till now--why--you're my _mother_! My mother! And I've never seen
you--I've never known you--till right now. You're a ripper, that's what
you are!

"And is that where you live, over yonder?" he added quickly, to conceal
the catch in his throat, the quick moisture in his eyes. His mother! And
never in all his life had he seen her face--this sweet, strange,
wistful, wonderful face. His mother! He had not even known she was
alive. And now, so overwhelmed was he, he did not as yet even think of
unraveling the veil of ignorance or deceit--call it what one
might--which had left him in orphanage all his life till now.

"Yes, over yonder," said Aurora, and pointed across the square. "That
little house under the shade trees, just at th