The vastness of Mrs Hardman's preparations were equal to the
greatness of her joy. The scene of the former reception was to be
enacted over again, but with additional splendour.
The time came, and with it the long-lost son. Mrs Hardman met him on
the hall steps, and clasped him in her arms with a fondness she had
never evinced before. But he was impatient. There was another being
whom he longed to fold in his arms. Mrs Hardman conducted him,
impelled by impatience, into her dressing-room, where Catherine
waited, trembling and expectant. Herbert rushed forward and clasped
her in an embrace which seemed to pour forth an age of long-suppressed
and passionate affection. The mother looked on in silent delight. She
seemed to share in the lovers' slightest emotion.
The first raptures having subsided, Herbert gazed upon the face of
his mistress. At the first glance he would have started back, had not
the firm affection of Catherine's embrace detained him. From the most
vivid signs of love and hope fulfilled, his countenance altered to an
expression of doubt and disappointment.
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