"
Truedale had well timed his return home. He was ready to greet the two
in the library. The prattling voice charmed him with its delightful
mellowness and he went forward gladly to meet Lynda and the new little
child. Ann was ahead; Lynda fell back and, with fast-throbbing heart
waited by the doorway.
Ann had had a week and more of Brace Kendall to wipe away the impression
Burke Lawson had imprinted upon her mind. But she was shy of men and
weighed them carefully before showing favours. She stood still when she
saw Truedale; she dropped, unheeded, a package; she stared at him, while
he waited with extended hands. Then slowly--as if drawn against her
will--Ann advanced and laid her hands in his.
"So this is the little girl who has come to help us make Christmas?"
"Yes." Still that fixed look. It seemed to Lynda the most unnatural
thing she had ever seen. And oh! how alike the two were, now that they
were together!
"You are little Ann and you are going to play with"--Truedale looked
toward Lynda and drew her to him by the love in his eyes--"You are going
to play with us, and you will call us mother and father, won't you,
little Ann?" He meant to do his part in full. He would withhold nothing,
now that Lynda had decided to take this step.
"Yes."
"And do you suppose you could kiss me--to begin with?"
Quaintly the child lifted herself on her toes--Truedale was half
kneeling before her--and gave him a lingering kiss.
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