At one time, just after your poor father's death, things
looked very cheerless: I used to fret dreadfully on your account.
But everything, you see, was for the best'
Adela had something to say and could not find the fitting moment.
She first drew her chair a little nearer to her mother.
'Yes, mother, I am happy,' she murmured.
'Silly child! As if I didn't know best. It's always the same, but
_you_ had the good sense to trust to my experience.'
Adela slipped from her seat and put her arms about her mother.
'What is it, dear?'
The reply was whispered. Adela's embrace grew closer; her face was
hidden, and all at once she began to sob.
'Love me, mother! Love me, dear mother!'
Mrs. Waltham beamed with real tenderness. For half an hour they
talked as mother and child alone can. Then Adela walked back to the
Manor, still dreaming. She did not feel able to call and see Letty.
There was an afternoon postal delivery at Wanley, and the postman
had just left the Manor as Adela returned. Alice, who for a wonder
had been walking in the garden, saw the man going away, and,
thinking it possible there might be a letter for her, entered the
house to look. Three letters lay on the hall table; two were for
Richard, the other was addressed to Mrs. Mutimer. This envelope
Alice examined curiously.
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