Her fingers clutched his and yet kept him away.  Every moment he was more confident of this thing which had come to him.  A strange longing was filling his heart.  The old days when he had kissed her carelessly upon the forehead seemed far enough away.  Then, in that brief period of silence which seemed to him too wonderful to break, there came a little tap at the door.  They both turned their heads.

“Come in,” Arnold invited.

There was a moment’s hesitation.  Then the door was opened.  Fenella entered.  Arnold sprang to his feet.

“Mrs. Weatherley!” he exclaimed.

She smiled at him with all her old insolent grace.

“Since when?” she demanded.  “Fenella, if you please.”

She was more simply dressed than usual, in a thin, black gown and black picture hat, and there were shadows under her eyes.  No one could look at her and fail to know that she was suffering.  She came across to Ruth.

“My brother is the dearest thing in life to me,” she said.  “He is all that I have left to me belonging to my own world.  All these days I have spent at his bedside, except when they have sent me away.  This evening I have come to see you.  You are his child, Ruth.”

Ruth turned her head slowly.

“Yes,” she murmured, half fearfully.

“When Arnold brought you to Bourne End,” Fenella continued, “for one moment I looked at you and I wondered.  You seemed, even then, to remind me of some one who had existed in the past.  I know now who it was.  You have something of Andrea’s air, but you are very like your mother, Ruth.”

“You knew her?” Ruth asked.

“Very slightly,” Fenella replied.  “She was a very clever actress and I saw her sometimes upon the stage.  Sometimes I think that Andrea did not treat her well, but that was the way of his world.  Assuredly he never treated her badly, or you and I would not be here together now.”

“I am afraid that you are sorry,” Ruth said, timidly.

Fenella laid her hand almost caressingly upon the girl’s shoulder.

“You need fear nothing of the sort,” she assured her.  “Why should I be sorry?  You are something that will remind me of him, something I shall always be glad to have near me.  You can guess why I have come?”

Ruth made no answer for a moment.  Fenella laughed, a little imperiously.

“You poor child!” she exclaimed.  “You cannot think that since I know the truth I could leave you here for a single second?  We can fetch your clothes any time.  To-night you are coming home with me.”

Ruth gazed at her with straining face.

“Home?” she murmured.

“But naturally,” Fenella replied.  “You are my brother’s child and I am a lonely woman.  Do you think that I could leave you here for a single second?  Arnold has some claims, I know,” she continued.  “He can come and see you sometimes.  Do not be afraid,” she went on, her voice suddenly softening.  “I shall try to be kind to you.  I have been a very selfish person all my life.  I think it will be good for me to have some one to care for.  Arnold, please to go and ring for the lift.  Now that I have two invalids to think about, I must not be away for long.”