ight come back here and open the house. That
was one reason I wanted to have our illumination next week, on the
chance of their arriving.

"So you see I was quite unprepared to see him rushing out here at once;
and when he gave another name, that completely deceived me. And then,
there's one thing more. Somehow, I had in my mind a picture of Fairfax
Collingwood that was as different as could be from--well, from what he
is! You see, I'd always thought of him as the _boy_ whom Great-aunt
Lucia described having seen. I pictured him as slim and young looking,
smooth-faced, with golden curly hair, and big brown eyes. His eyes are
the same but,--well, I somehow never counted on the change that all
those forty years would make! You can't think how different my idea of
him was, and naturally that helped all the more to throw me off the
track."

"But why--" began Cynthia afresh.

"Oh, don't let's try to puzzle over it any more just now!" interrupted
Joyce. "My head is simply in a whirl. I can't even _think_ straight! I
never had so many surprises all at once in my life. I think he will
explain everything we don't understand. Let's just wait!"

There were faint sounds from the drawing-room, but they were
indistinguishable,--low murmurings and half-hushed sobs. The two
reunited ones within were bridging the gulf of forty years. And so the
girls continued to wait outside, in the silence and in the dark.

CHAPTER XVII

IN WHICH ALL MYSTERIES ARE SOLVED

At last the two on the staircase heard footsteps approaching the door,
and a pleasant voice called out:

"Where are you both, little ladies? Will you not come and join us? I
think we must have some things to be explained!" They came forward, a
little timidly, and their latest visitor held out a hand to each.

"You wonderful two!" he exclaimed. "Do you realize that, had it not been
for you, this would never have happened? My mother and I owe you a debt
of gratitude beyond all expressing! Come and join us now, and we will
solve the riddles which I'm sure are puzzling us all." He led them over
to the sofa, and placed them beside his mother.

Never was a change more remarkable than that which had come upon Mrs.
Collingwood. Her face, from being one of the saddest they had ever
seen, had grown fairly radiant. She looked younger, too. Ten years
seemed suddenly to have dropped from her shoulders. Her brown eyes
flashed with something of their former fire, and she smiled