"
In the hall stood a lady whom Archdale looked at with pride. He was fond
of his mother without recognizing a certain likeness between them. She
was dressed elegantly, although without ostentation, and she came
towards her guests with an ease as delightful as their own. Stephen
going to meet her, led her forward and introduced her. Lady Dacre looked
at her scrutinizingly, and gave a little nod of satisfaction.
"I am pleased to come to see you Madam Archdale," she said in answer to
the other's greeting. There was a touch of sadness in her face and the
clasp of her hand had a silent sympathy in it. It was as if the two
women already made moan over the desolation of the man in whom they both
were interested, though in so different degrees. But the tact of both
saved awkwardness in their meeting.
Archdale stood a little apart, silent for a moment, struggling against
the overwhelming suggestions of the situation. Even his mother did not
belong here; she had her own home. Perhaps it would be found that no
woman for whom he cared could ever have a right in this lovely house.
When these guests had gone he would shut up the place forever,
unless----.
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