An Awakening

"Yes?" said Madeline.

"Dick--"

"Is anything the matter with Dick?" Madeline rose with a little cry.

"Dick does not think so," his mother answered. "My child, you have seen
something of this little Miss Quincy?"

Madeline's eyes dropped for the tenth of a second and a heaviness took
possession of her body; then she lifted her head bravely.

"Yes," she answered, "I know Miss Quincy--quite the most beautiful girl
I have ever seen."

"Very beautiful," echoed Mrs. Percival. "So I too thought, the only time
I ever saw her. Well, Madeline, what I have to tell you is that Dick is
to marry her."

The girl saw that the older woman's hands were trembling, and she laid
her own warm young palms over the cold old ones.

"I hope Dick will be very happy," she said softly. "I--I'm not a bit
surprised. We ought to have seen that it was coming. And Dick loves
her!"

And she laid her cheek against Mrs. Percival's, but the other pushed her
away and stared into the eyes so near her own.

"And you can take it so quietly?" she asked. "Forgive me, dear, if for
once I break down the barriers of reserve. I love you so much, let me be
frank. Surely you know what I hoped, what I thought."

"You thought Dick and I loved each other," Madeline said bravely.

"I hoped so. Heaven knows I hoped so."

"We are too good friends for that, dear Mrs. Percival. One needs a
little something unexplored and unexpected in a lover; don't you think
so? Dick and I knew each other in kilts and pig-tails."