'Is this Mr. Hale's?' said he, in a clear, full, delicate voice.
Margaret trembled all over; at first she did not answer. In a
moment she sighed out, 'Frederick!' and stretched out both her hands to Catch his, and
draw him in.
'Oh, Margaret!' said he, holding her off by her shoulders, after
they had kissed each other, as if even in that darkness he could
see her face, and read in its expression a quicker answer to his
question than words could give,-'My mother! is she alive?' 'Yes, she is alive, dear, dear brother! She--as ill as she can be
she is; but alive! She is alive!' 'Thank God!' said he.
'Papa is utterly prostrate with this great grief.' 'You expect me, don't you?' 'No, we have had no letter.' 'Then I have come before it. But my mother knows I am coming?' 'Oh! we all knew you would come. But wait a little! Step in here.
Give me your hand. What is this? Oh! your carpet-bag. Dixon has
shut the shutters; but this is papa's study, and I can take you
to a chair to rest yourself for a few minutes; while I go and
tell him.' She groped her way to the taper and the lucifer matches. She
suddenly felt shy, when the little feeble light made them
visible. All she could see was, that her brother's face was
unusually dark in complexion, and she caught the stealthy look of
a pair of remarkably long-cut blue eyes, that suddenly twinkled
up with a droll consciousness of their mutual purpose of
inspecting each other. But though the brother and sister had an
instant of sympathy in their reciprocal glances, they did not
exchange a word; only, Margaret felt sure that she should like
her brother as a companion as much as she already loved him as a
near relation. Her heart was wonderfully lighter as she went
up-stairs; the sorrow was no less in reality, but it became less
oppressive from having some one in precisely the same relation to
it as that in which she stood. Not her father's desponding
attitude had power to damp her now. He lay across the table,
helpless as ever; but she had the spell by which to rouse him.
She used it perhaps too violently in her own great relief.
'Papa,' said she, throwing her arms fondly round his neck;
pulling his weary head up in fact with her gentle violence, till
it rested in her arms, and she could look into his eyes, and let
them gain strength and assurance from hers.