"Mrs. Craig," said Ailsa.
"I don't believe it," he said. "You haven't grown-up children!"
"Don't you really believe it, Mr. Berkley? Or is it just the
flattering Irish in you that natters us poor women to our
destruction?"
He had sense and wit enough to pay her a quick and really graceful
compliment; to which she responded, still laughing:
"Oh, it is the Ormond in you! I am truly ve'y glad you came. You
are Constance Berkley's son--Connie Berkley! The sweetest girl
that ever lived."
There was a silence. Then Mrs. Craig said gently:
"I was her maid of honour, Mr. Berkley."
Ailsa raised her eyes to his altered face, startled at the change
in it. He looked at her absently, then his gaze reverted to Ailsa
Paige.
"I loved her dearly," said Mrs. Craig, dropping a light, impulsive
hand on his. "I want her son to know it."
Her eyes were soft and compassionate; her hand still lingered
lightly on his, and she let it rest so.
"Mrs. Craig," he said, "you are the most real person I have known
in many years among the phantoms. I thought your sister-in-law
was. But you are still more real."
"Am I?" she laid her other hand over his, considering him
earnestly. Ailsa looking on, astonished, noticed a singular
radiance on his face--the pale transfiguration from some quick
inward illumination.
Then Celia Craig's voice sounded almost caressingly:
"I think you should have come to see us long ago." A pause. "You
are as welcome in this house as your mother would be if she were
living. I love and honour her memory."
"I have honoured little else in the world," he said. They looked
at one another for a moment; then her quick smile broke out. "I
have an album. There are some Paiges, Ormonds, and Berkleys in
it----"
Ailsa came forward slowly.
"Shall I look for it, Celia?"
"No, Honey-bell." She turned lightly and went into the back
parlour, smiling mysteriously to herself, her vast, pale-blue
crinoline rustling against the furniture.
"My sister-in-law," said Ailsa, after an interval of silent
constraint, "is very Southern. Any sort of kinship means a great
deal to her. I, of course, am Northern, and regard such matters as
unimportant."
"It is very gracious of Mrs. Craig to remember it," he said. "I
know nothing finer than confidence in one's own kin."