"My mother!" she exclaimed in a tone of deep feeling, and stood gazing
at Hetty as if a ghost had risen up before her.
Hetty retreated a step, and the two girls stood gazing at each other.
Miss Gaythorne recovered herself quickly, but her hands and voice were
trembling as she took Hetty's fingers in her own.
"Have I frightened you, dear?" she said; "but oh, if you knew how
strangely, how wonderfully like you are to my darling mother."
"Your mother?" stammered Hetty.
"Such a sweet beauty of a young mother she was as I remember her--and I
have a likeness of her at your age;--it seems to me that you are the
living image of it."
"How very strange!" said Hetty, with a thrill of delight at the thought
that she was like anybody belonging to this charming girl, especially
her mother. Hetty had fascinating fancies of her own about an ideal
mother; no real mother she had known had ever reached her standard. But
Reine's mother must surely have been up to the mark. And to be told that
she, Hetty, was like her! She drew nearer to Reine, who put her arms
round her neck and kissed her.
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