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 shame…. After a time—in quieter mood—she would be hurt, grieved, might even weep for a father whose misfortunes, whose very self had been unknown to her—but now she could not grieve…. But never, and she knew it with a definiteness which nothing could shake, never would she be ashamed…. She was herself, for herself, of herself—nothing could touch her which had not its source in her own soul…. It was a truth which burst upon her, a truth without which life would have been impossible to her…. She knew herself; knew she was worthy; knew no defilement had passed on to her from acts of her forebears…. If this were true of herself, then it was true of Angus Burke…. She lifted her face, and it was radiant. Great-aunt Margaret gasped in astonishment…. Lydia spoke, “I’m going back…. I’m going back to him,” she said….

That very hour Lydia and her aunt commenced their preparations to return to Rainbow. “I won’t tell him I’m coming,” Lydia said joyfully again and again. “I’m a surprise…. I’ll—I’ll come as a surprise….”

Great-aunt Margaret only wrinkled her patrician nose and wondered.