Tears sprang to the eyes of the homeless girl at this cordial reception, and her lips quivered with repressed emotion as she thanked the gentle lady for it.

"What was that Roy was saying--that you have come from Boston this afternoon?" queried Mrs. Morrell, hastening to cover her embarra.s.sment by changing the subject. "Then you must be nearly famished, and you must have a lunch before you go to rest."

"Pray, do not trouble yourself--" Edith began.

"Please let me--I like such 'trouble,' as you are pleased to term it,"

smilingly interposed the pretty hostess; and with a bright nod and a hurried "excuse me," she was gone before Edith could make further objections.

"Nellie is the most hospitable little woman in the universe," Mr.

Bryant remarked, as the door closed after her; "she is never so happy as when she is feeding the hungry or making somebody comfortable."

Fifteen minutes later she reappeared, a lovely flush on her round cheeks, her eyes bright with the pleasure she experienced in doing a kind act for the young stranger, toward whom she had been instantly attracted.

"Come, now," she said, holding out a hand to her, "and I know Roy will join us--he never yet refused a cup of tea of my own brewing."

"You are right, Nellie," smilingly replied that gentleman; "and I believe I am hungry, in spite of my hearty dinner at six o'clock. A ride over the pavements of New York will prepare almost any one for an extra meal. I only hope you have a slice of Aunt Janes's old-fashioned gingerbread for me."

Mrs. Morrell laughed out musically at this last remark.

"I never dare to be without it," she retorted, "for you never fail to ask for it. This cousin of mine, Miss Allandale, is always hungry when he comes to see me, and is never satisfied to go away without his slice of gingerbread. Perhaps," she added, shooting a roguish glance from one face to the other, for she had been quick to fathom their relations, "you will some time like to have mamma's recipe for it."

A conscious flush mantled Edith's cheek at this playful thrust, while the young lawyer gave vent to a hearty laugh of amus.e.m.e.nt in which a certain joyous ring betrayed to the shrewd little woman that she had not fired her shot amiss.

Then she led them into her home-like dining-room, where a table was laid for three, and where, over a generous supply of cold chicken, delicious bread and b.u.t.ter, home-made preserves, and the much lauded gingerbread, the trio spent a social half-hour, and Edith felt a sense of rest and content such as she had not experienced since leaving her Fifth avenue home, more than two years previous.

As soon as the meal was finished, Mrs. Morrell, who saw how weary and heavy-eyed the fair girl appeared, remarked to her cousin, with a pretty air of authority, that she was "going to carry her guest off upstairs to bed immediately."

"You stay here until I come back, Roy," she added. "Charlie was obliged to go out upon important business, and I shall be glad of your company for a while."

"Very well, Nellie! I will stay for a little chat, for I have something important which I wish to say to you."

As he concluded he darted a smiling glance at Edith, which again brought the lovely color to her cheeks and revealed to her the nature of the important communication that he intended to make to his cousin.

She bade him a smiling good-night, and then gladly accompanied her hostess above, for she was really more weary than she had acknowledged.

When Mrs. Morrell returned to the parlor, Roy related to her something of Edith's history, and also confessed his own relationship toward her, while the little woman listened with an absorbed attention which betrayed how thoroughly she enjoyed the romance of the affair.

"She is lovely!" she remarked, "and"--with a thoughtful air--"it seems to me as if I have heard the name before. Edith Allandale!--it sounds very familiar to me. Why, Roy! she was one of Sister Blanche's cla.s.smates at Va.s.sar, and she has her picture in her cla.s.s alb.u.m!"

"That is a singular coincidence!" the young man observed, no less surprised at this revelation, "and it makes matters all the more pleasant for me to learn that she is not wholly unknown to the family."

"And you mean to marry her very soon?" inquired his cousin.

"Just as soon as I can settle matters with that rascal in Boston to her satisfaction," responded the young man, with a gleam of fire in his eyes. "I do not apprehend any serious trouble about the affair; still, it may take longer than I wish."

"And may I keep her until then?" eagerly inquired Mrs. Morrell.

"Nellie! that is like your kind, generous heart!" exclaimed the young man, gratefully; "and I thank you from the bottom of mine. But, of course, that will have to be as Edith herself decides, while this business which I have in charge for her may interfere with such an arrangement."

"Oh, you mean in connection with the strange gentleman who has been searching for her."

"Yes. But I must go now; it is getting late, and I have a couple of letters to write yet. Take good care of my treasure, Nellie, and I will run in as early to-morrow as possible to see you both."

He kissed her affectionately, then bade her good-night and hurried away to his rooms at his club; while pretty Mrs. Morrell went back to her parlor, after letting him out, to await her husband's return, and to think over the romantic story to which she had just listened with deep interest.

There had been so much of a personal and tender nature to occupy their minds that Mr. Bryant had not thought to tell Edith anything about the circ.u.mstances that had led him to advertise in various papers for intelligence of her.

Some three weeks previous, a gentleman, of about fifty years, and calling himself Louis Raymond, had presented himself in his office, and inquired if he could give him any information regarding the late Albert Allandale's family.

He stated that he had spent most of his life abroad, but, his health beginning to fail, he had decided to return to his own country.

He had been quite ill since his arrival, and he began to fear that he had not long to live, and it behooved him to settle his affairs without further delay.

He stated that he had no relatives or family--he had never married; but, being possessed of large wealth, he wished to settle half of it upon Mrs. Allandale, if she could be found, or, if she was not living, upon her children. The remaining half he designed as a legacy to a certain charitable inst.i.tution in the city.

He stated that he had been searching for the Allandales for several weeks; he had learned of Mr. Allandale's financial troubles and subsequent death, but could get no trace whatever of the other members of the family. He was wearied out with his search, and now wished to turn the matter over to some one stronger than himself, and better versed in conducting such affairs.

Mr. Bryant could not fail to regard it as a singular coincidence that this business should have been thrown into his hands, especially as he was also so anxious to find Edith; and it can well be understood that he at once entered into the gentleman's plans with all his heart and soul.

He, of course, related all he knew of her history, and when he spoke of Mrs. Allandale's death he was startled to see his client grow deathly white and become so unnerved that, for a moment, he feared the shock would prove more than he could sustain.

But he recovered himself after a few moments.

"So she is gone!" he murmured, with a look in his eyes that told the secret of a deathless but unrequited love. "Well, Death's scythe spares no one, and perhaps it is better so. But this girl--her daughter," he added, rousing himself from his sad reflections; "we must try to find her."

"We will do our utmost," said the young lawyer, with a heartiness which betrayed the deep interest he felt in the matter. "As I have told you, I have not the slightest knowledge of her whereabouts, but think she may possibly be in Boston. Her letter to me, written just previous to her departure, gave me not the slightest clew to her destination. She promised to write to a woman who had been kind to her, and I arranged with her to let me know when she received a letter; but I have never seen her since--I once went to the house where she lived, but she had moved, and no one could tell me anything about her."

It may be as well to state here that shortly after Edith left New York, poor Mrs. O'Brien fell and broke her leg. She was taken to a hospital, and her children put into a home, consequently she never received Edith's letter, which was of course addressed to her old residence.

"I think our wisest course will be to advertise," the young lawyer pursued; "and if we do not achieve our end in that way, we can adopt other measures later on."

"Well, sir, do your best--I don't mind expense; and if the young lady can be found, I have a story to tell her which I think will deeply interest her," the gentleman returned. "If we should not be successful in the course of a few weeks, I will make a settlement upon her, to be left, with some other papers, in your hands for a reasonable period, in the event of my death. But if all your efforts prove unavailing, the money will eventually go, with the rest, to the inst.i.tution I have named."

Thus the matter had been left, and Mr. Bryant had immediately advertised, as we have seen, in several New York and Boston papers.

Three weeks had elapsed without any response, and Royal Bryant was beginning to be discouraged when he was suddenly made jubilant by receiving the telegram which Edith had written on the train after leaving Boston.

Thus, after leaving the house of his cousin, he repaired to his club, where he wrote a letter to his client, Mr. Raymond, telling him that Miss Allandale was found, and asking him to meet him at his office at as early an hour the following morning as possible.

CHAPTER XXVI.

AN EXCITING INTERVIEW AND AN APPALLING DISCOVERY.

We must now transport ourselves to Boston, in order to find out how Edith's flight was discovered, and what effect it produced in the G.o.ddards' elegant home on Commonwealth avenue.