It was the kind of resemblance to be
seen only on the faces of a pair who have loved each other, and thought
the same thoughts long year after long year. The light was so warm, so
pure and bright, that I felt as if a fire had been lit for me in the
cold dark room. I didn't deserve to warm my hands in its glow; but I
forgot my falseness for a moment, and let whatever was good in me flow
out in gratitude.
I couldn't speak. I could only look, and kiss the old lady's tiny
hand--ungloved to hold mine, and hung with loose rings of rich, ancient
fashion such as children love to be shown in mother's jewel-box. In
return, she kissed me on both cheeks, and the old man smoothed my hair,
heavily.
"Why yes, that's settled then, you belong to us," he said. "It's just as
if Jimmy'd left you to us in his will. In his last letter the boy told
his mother and me that when we met we'd get a pleasant surprise.
We--silly old folks!--never thought of a love story. We supposed Jim was
booked for promotion, or a new job with some sort of honour attached to
it. And yet we might have guessed, if we'd had our wits about us, for we
did know that Jimmy'd fallen in love at first sight with a girl in
France, before the war broke out."
"He told you that!" I almost gasped. Then he _had_ fallen in love, and
hadn't gone away forgetting, as I'd thought! Or was it some other girl
who had won him at first sight? This was what I said to myself: and
something that was not myself added, "Now, if you don't lose your head,
you will find out in a minute all you've been puzzling over for nearly
four years.
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