She knew that there was no reason for her staying, but she staid.

She loved her son dearly.

She was unwilling to leave him while his future was so dismally uncertain; and every week she informed Hope that she was on the point of going.
Hope Wayne was not sorry to remain.

Perhaps she also had her purposes.
At Saratoga, in the previous summer, Arthur Merlin had remarked her incessant restlessness, and had connected it with the picture and the likeness of somebody.

But when afterward, in New York, he cleared up the mystery and resolved who the somebody was, to his great surprise he observed, at the same time, that the restlessness of Hope Wayne was gone.
From the months of seclusion which she had imposed upon herself he saw that she emerged older, calmer, and lovelier than he had ever seen her.
The calmness was, indeed, a little unnatural.