39 
Visitor From Switzerland

As the time grew short and the miles shrank, Hope Guinarde’s heart beat more and more rapidly within her. It had been a long and tiring train ride, not to mention a somewhat bumpy channel ferry crossing. She had been gone from the chalet almost a week, and, after a day in London before leaving for Devon, she was now nearly at the end of her journey.

By the time the train began to slow and the conductor announced Milverscombe, she could hardly contain her anticipation.

She had only known Amanda a few brief months. The girl was young enough to be her daughter, and at the time of their acquaintance in Switzerland, they had hardly hit it off as the closest of friends. And their parting had been strained to say the least. Yet Hope felt she was returning to visit a lifelong friend.

She stepped off the train full of so many emotions, not knowing what she would find, yet knowing the Lord had something unknown and wonderful waiting for her. She hardly had a chance to glance around before she heard her name called out above the hissing steam of the engine.

“Sister Hope!” cried the familiar voice.

If Hope had had any lingering doubts about how Amanda would receive her after their tense meeting a year and a half earlier, they were gone in an instant.

She looked toward the sound to see Amanda running toward her with arms outstretched. Vaguely she saw two or three other figures behind her. But she had no chance to think of them further, for the next moment Amanda had her in her arms. She returned the hug, tears flowing freely.

“Oh, Amanda,” said Hope, “it is so good to see you.”

She leaned back and looked deeply into Amanda’s eyes. “You look well!” she said.

“As do you,” whispered Amanda. “Thank you . . . thank you for everything!”

“For what?” said Hope.

“For loving me enough to send me home.”

Hope smiled and nodded. Her heart was too full for words. Notwithstanding the letters they had received at the chalet, she had hardly been able to dare dream that her exhortations of the previous winter would be used to so turn Amanda’s life toward home. But one look in Amanda’s face showed just how great the transformation had been. The hard, resistant independence had been replaced by a radiant childlikeness, and Hope could see that Amanda was finally at peace with herself.

Behind them, Amanda’s small entourage now approached.

“I am so glad you are here!” Amanda said as they withdrew from the embrace, dabbing at their eyes. “Now I want you to meet my family.”

Amanda turned, slipped her arm through Hope’s, and brought her a few steps forward.

“Mother, meet Hope Guinarde . . . Sister Hope, this is my mother, Jocelyn Rutherford.”

Sister Hope extended her hand. “Lady Rutherford—” she began.

But more words never came from her mouth. The next instant Hope found herself swallowed in Jocelyn’s embrace. The grateful mother could no longer hold back her emotions and sobbed without reservation.

For several long moments the two women held each other in the silent embrace of mutual love and respect.

At length Jocelyn spoke, whispering into Hope’s ear words of gratitude that she had longed to express to this dear woman.

“Thank you so much,” she said. “You will never know how grateful I am.”

Hope nodded. She could not reply. Her own throat and eyes made speech temporarily impossible.

“And my sister, Catharine . . .” said Amanda, continuing with the introductions. Hope nodded with a smile to Catharine over Jocelyn’s shoulder.

“And I would like you to meet a visitor in our home, Elsbet Conlin—Betsy, this is Sister Hope.”

Hope and Jocelyn parted.

“Hello, Betsy,” said Hope, looking down and smiling as she took the girl’s outstretched hand.

At the touch of her fingers and the gaze of her eyes, Hope’s heart leapt with love and feelings undefined. She did not yet know that the girl before her was motherless and fatherless. She knew nothing about her. But immediately the look of her eyes plunged straight into Hope’s heart, and something told her it was for this child standing in front of her that the Lord had sent her to England.

Betsy returned her gaze, smiling and unflinching, until Amanda spoke again.

“Do you have more bags?” she said, interrupting Hope’s thoughts.

Hope turned. “Oh . . . yes, just one,” she answered.

“Then shall we get it and be off to the Hall? We have a nice tea all waiting for you!”