The horses were not the fat
dappled grays of the establishment, but brown ones, and Millicent,
apprehending a visit from some of her late husband's kindred, and
unwilling to be seen before they reached the house, drew behind a
tree, hoping to be out of sight.
She had, however, been descried. The carriage stopped. There was a
joyful cry in good English of 'Mother! mother! mother!' and the
little maiden flew headlong into her arms, while at the same moment
my dear brother, looking indeed thin, but most noble, most handsome,
embraced me. He explained in a few words that Mademoiselle van
Hunker was dining with her future mother-in-law, and that she had
permitted him to have the honour of giving up his charge to Madame.
Millicent looked up at him with the eyes that could not but be sweet,
and began to utter her thanks, while he smiled and said that the
pleasure to him and Annora had been so great that the obligation was
theirs.
The little girl, now holding her hand, was peering up curiously under
her hood, and broke upon their stiffness and formality by a sudden
outcry:
'No! no! mother is not ugly like Vronikje. She shall not be ugly.
She is Emilia's own dear pretty mother, and nobody shall say no.'
No doubt the little one felt the inward attraction of child to
mother, that something which so infinitely surpasses mere complexion,
and as she had been warned of the change, and had seen it in her
sister, she was really agreeable surprised, and above all felt that
she had her mother again.
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