Presently, however, when she found Mary established in her old home, in
her old room, there came to her a new hope. For there is nothing in the
world so hard to believe, or to be convinced of, as that no effort, no
device, will ever make you known and visible to those you love. Lady Mary
being little altered in her character, though so much in her being, still
believed that if she could but find the way, in a moment,--in the
twinkling of an eye, all would be revealed and understood. She went to
Mary's room with this new hope strong in her heart. When they were alone
together in that nest of comfort which she had herself made beautiful for
her child,--two hearts so full of thought for each other,--what was there
in earthly bonds which could prevent them from meeting? She went into the
silent room, which was so familiar and dear, and waited like a mother
long separated from her child, with a faint doubt trembling on the
surface of her mind, yet a quaint, joyful confidence underneath in the
force of nature. A few words would be enough,--a moment, and all would be
right. And then she pleased herself with fancies of how, when that was
done, she would whisper to her darling what has never been told to flesh
and blood; and so go home proud, and satisfied, and happy in the
accomplishment of all she had hoped.

Mary came in with her candle in her hand, and closed the door between her
and all external things. She looked round wistful with that strange
consciousness which she had already experienced, that some one was there.
The other stood so close to her that the girl could not move without
touching her. She held up her hands, imploring, to the child of her love.
She called to her, "Mary, Mary!" putting her hands upon her, and gazed
into her face with an intensity and anguish of eagerness which might have
drawn the stars out of the sky. And a strange tumult was in Mary's bosom.
She stood looking blankly round her, like one who is blind with open