'Papa! guess who is here!' He looked at her; she saw the idea of the truth glimmer into
their filmy sadness, and be dismissed thence as a wild
imagination.
He threw himself forward, and hid his face once more in his
stretched-out arms, resting upon the table as heretofore. She
heard him whisper; she bent tenderly down to listen. 'I don't
know. Don't tell me it is Frederick--not Frederick. I cannot bear
it,--I am too weak. And his mother is dying!'He began to cry and
wail like a child. It was so different to all which Margaret had
hoped and expected, that she turned sick with disappointment, and
was silent for an instant. Then she spoke again--very
differently--not so exultingly, far more tenderly and carefully.
'Papa, it is Frederick! Think of mamma, how glad she will be! And
oh, for her sake, how glad we ought to be! For his sake,
too,--our poor, poor boy!' Her father did not change his attitude, but he seemed to be
trying to understand the fact.
'Where is he?' asked he at last, his face still hidden in his
prostrate arms.
'In your study, quite alone. I lighted the taper, and ran up to
tell you. He is quite alone, and will be wondering why--' 'I will go to him,' broke in her father; and he lifted himself up
and leant on her arm as on that of a guide.
Margaret led him to the study door, but her spirits were so
agitated that she felt she could not bear to see the meeting. She
turned away, and ran up-stairs, and cried most heartily. It was
the first time she had dared to allow herself this relief for
days. The strain had been terrible, as she now felt. But
Frederick was come! He, the one precious brother, was there,
safe, amongst them again! She could hardly believe it. She
stopped her crying, and opened her bedroom door. She heard no
sound of voices, and almost feared she might have dreamt. She
went down-stairs, and listened at the study door. She heard the
buzz of voices; and that was enough. She went into the kitchen,
and stirred up the fire, and lighted the house, and prepared for
the wanderer's refreshment. How fortunate it was that her mother
slept! She knew that she did, from the candle-lighter thrust
through the keyhole of her bedroom door. The traveller could be
refreshed and bright, and the first excitement of the meeting
with his father all be over, before her mother became aware of
anything unusual.
When all was ready, Margaret opened the study door, and went in
like a serving-maiden, with a heavy tray held in her extended
arms. She was proud of serving Frederick. But he, when he saw
her, sprang up in a minute, and relieved her of her burden. It
was a type, a sign, of all the coming relief which his presence
would bring. The brother and sister arranged the table together,
saying little, but their hands touching, and their eyes speaking
the natural language of expression, so intelligible to those of
the same blood. The fire had gone out; and Margaret applied
herself to light it, for the evenings had begun to be chilly; and
yet it was desirable to make all noises as distant as possible
from Mrs. Hale's room.