She advanced quietly and held but her hand.
"My daughter!" He caught the extended hand and kissed her, but she showed no emotion.
"Rose, dear, I am glad to see you." There was truth in the dead level tone with which "I am glad to see you" was spoken, and Rose, who perceived this, took her hand and kissed her.

Both hands and lips were cold.
"What's the matter, Irene?
Have you been sick ?" asked Mr.Delancy, in a choking voice.
"No, father, I'm very well." You would never have recognized that voice as the voice of Irene.
"No, child, you are not well.

What ails you?
Why are you here in so strange a way and looking so strangely ?" "Do I look strangely ?" There was a feeble effort to awaken a smile, which only gave her face a ghastly expression.
"Is Hartley with you ?" "No." Her voice was fuller and more emphatic as she uttered this word.

She tried to look steadily at her father, but her eyes moved aside from the range of his vision.
For a little while there was a troubled silence with all.

Rose had placed an arm around the waist of Irene and drawn her to the sofa, on which they were now sitting; Mr.Delancy stood before them.
Gradually the cold, almost blank, expression of Irene's face changed and the old look came back.
"My daughter," said Mr.Delancy.
"Father"-- Irene interrupted him--"I know what you are going to say.
My sudden, unannounced appearance, at this time, needs explanation.
I am glad dear Rose is here--my old, true friend"-- and she leaned against Miss Carman--"I can trust her." The arm of Rose tightened around the waist of Irene.
"Father"-- the voice of Irene fell to a deep, solemn tone; there was no emphasis on one word more than on another; all was a dead level; yet the meaning was as full and the involved purpose as fixed as if her voice had run through the whole range of passionate intonation--"Father, I have come back to Ivy Cliff and to you, after having suffered shipwreck on the voyage of life.