"I never saw a storm so fierce and wild. We scarce slept for the cold and rocking of the house in the wind; and when, late in the night, I went to your room to see how you were getting on, I thought I should have died when I found you gone and your bed untouched. Sitting about until there was a bit of light, we started after you, stopping, with our hearts in our mouths, to stir every mound of snow by the wayside, expecting to find your body beneath it. Oh, it was dreadful!"
"Oh, Gilbert, you never told us a word of this," Constance cried, coming to my side. "How could you have kept it back?"
"It was not nearly so bad as Mrs. Blake thinks, Constance. I reached the tavern all right, and in a little while was as good as new. If the night hadn't turned out as it did, I would have been here by twelve o'clock, and none the worse for the tramp, either."
"Yes, but think, Miss Constance, of his being in the forest alone, and on such a night and clad as he was! We will always blame ourselves for not bringing him here yesterday, as he implored us to do."
"Please don't talk of it any more, I love you so much!" I cried out at last. "I couldn't help doing what I did."
"I know you couldn't; and we are happy in finding you alive and well. You will go back with us, or if not now, when your uncle's trouble is fixed up, as we hope and pray it will be soon. You know we love you as if you were our own son."
"That we do, Gilbert, and wish you to live with us always," Mr. Blake now broke in for the first time.
"Sweet lady," Mr. Seymour here interposed, coming forward and taking Mrs. Blake's hand and kissing it reverently as a son might, "I want to thank you and Mr. Blake for your kindness to Gilbert and love for him; and I am made happy, madam, by having an insight into a heart so affectionate and true and every way worthy of regard. Gilbert is as my own son, and I kiss your hand again, madam, to show my respect and love for you," and Mr. Seymour bent over and lifted her hand to his lips with as much deference as he would have shown his queen. Constance, who had stood by with tears dimming her eyes, now put her soft arms about Mrs. Blake and embraced and kissed her, as if she could not show plainly enough how much she loved her for her tender heart.