T.

Lionel stood, expectant, in the centre of the room, and as the two
female forms entered, the lights were full upon their faces. That
younger face--it is she--it is she, the unforgotten--the long-lost.
Instinctively, as if no years had rolled between--as if she were still
the little child, he the boy who had coveted such a sister--he sprang
forward and opened his arms, and as suddenly halted, dropped the
arms to, his side, blushing, confused, abashed. She! that vagrant
child!--she! that form so elegant--that great peeress's pupil--adopted
daughter, she the poor wandering Sophy! She!--impossible!

But her eyes, at first downcast, are now fixed on him. She, too,
starts--not forward, but in recoil; she, too, raises her arms, not to
open, but to press them to her breast; and she, too, as suddenly checks
an impulse, and stands, like him, blushing, confused, abashed.

"Yes," said Caroline Montfort, drawing Sophy nearer to her breast, "yes,
you will both forgive me for the surprise. Yes, you do see before you,
grown up to become the pride of those who cherish her, that Sophy who--"

"Sophy!" cried Lionel advancing; "it is so, then! I knew you were no
stroller's grandchild."

Sophy drew up: "I am, I am his grandchild, and as proud to be so as I
was then."

"Pardon me, pardon me; I meant to say that he too was not what he
seemed. You forgive me," extending his hand, and Sophy's soft hand fell
into his forgivingly.

"But he lives? is well? is here? is--" Sophy burst into tears, and Lady
Montfort made a sign to Lionel to go into the garden, and leave them.
Reluctantly and dizzily, as one in a dream, he obeyed, leaving the
vagrant's grandchild to be soothed in the fostering arms of her whom,
an hour or two ago, he knew but by the titles of her rank and the
reputation of her pride.

It was not many minutes before Lady Montfort rejoined him.

"You touched unawares," said she, "upon the poor child's most anxious
cause of sorrow. Her grandfather; for whom her affection is so
sensitively keen, has disappeared. I will speak of that later; and if
you wish, you shall be taken into our consultations. But--" she paused,
looked into his face-open, loyal face, face of gentleman--with heart of
man in its eyes, soul of man on its brow; face formed to look up to the
stars which now lighted it--and laying her hand lightly on his shoulder,
resumed with hesitating voice: "but I feel like a culprit in asking
you what, nevertheless, I mu