to the hoarse boom of the old church clock calling the hour of midnight, across the chimneys of the village and away over the silent solemn woods.

Mrs. Kane felt with a sort of awe that another day had begun, but she little knew that with it a strange new leaf had been turned in the story of her little Hetty's life.

CHAPTER III.

ADOPTED.

Back to Contents

Mrs. Rushton returned the next day with a basket of ripe peaches and a large bouquet of lovely flowers such as Hetty had never seen before. The yellow lilies might stand now in peace among their tall flag leaves without fearing to have their heads picked off, for Hetty had got something newer and more delightful to admire than they. Odorous golden roses and pearl-white gardenias scented and beautified the poor little room where Hetty lay. Where had they come from, she wondered, and who was the pretty lady who sat by her side and kept putting nice-smelling things to her nose? At first she was very shy and only looked at her with half-closed eyes, but after some time she took courage and spoke to her.

"What kind lady are you?" asked Hetty boldly.

"I am a good fairy," said Mrs. Rushton, "and when you are well I am going to carry you off to see my house."

"Hetty has got a house," said the little girl complacently. "Have you got a house too?"

"A splendid large house, Hetty," said Mrs. Kane. "You never saw such a house."

"Is it bigger than the post-office?" said Hetty doubtingly.

"Bigger far."

"Bigger than the forge?"

"Don't be foolish, child, and stop your biggers," said Mrs. Kane; "Mrs. Rushton's house is the size of the church and more."

Hetty winked with astonishment, and she lay silent for some time, till at last she said:

"And do you sit in the pulpit?"

Mrs. Rushton laughed more than she was accustomed to laugh at Lady Harriet Beaton's comic stories. This child's prattle was amusing to her.

"And do you have grave-stones growing round your door?" persisted Hetty.

"There, ma'am!" cried Mrs. Kane, "she'll worry you with questions if you give her a bit of encouragement. She'll think of things that'll put you wild for an answer, so she will. John and I give her up."

Mrs. Rushton was not at all inclined to give her up, however, for she kept coming day after day to visit the little patient. Hetty became fond of her pleasant visitor, and watched eagerly for her arrival in the long afternoons when the flies buzzed so noisily in the small cottage window-panes, and the child found it hard to lie still and hear the voices of the village children shouting and laughing at their play in the distance. As soon as Mrs. Rushton's bright eyes were seen in the doorway, and her gay dress fluttering across the threshold, Hetty would stretch out her one little hand in welcome to the delightful visitor, and laugh to see all the pretty presents that were quickly strewn around her on the bed. After spending an afternoon with the child, Mrs. Rushton often went on to Wavertree Hall and finished the evening there with her brother's family. Mr. and Mrs. Enderby were greatly astonished to find how completely their lively sister had interested herself in the village foundling.

"Take care you do not spoil her," said Mr. Enderby.

Mrs. Rushton shrugged her shoulders.

"I can never please you," she said. "One would suppose I had found a harmless amusement this time at least, and yet you do not approve."

"I do approve," said her brother, "up to a certain point. I only warn you not to go too far and make the child unhappy by over-petting her. In a few weeks hence you will have forgotten her existence, and then the little thing will be disappointed."

"But I have no intention of forgetting her in a few weeks," said Mrs. Rushton indignantly.

"No; you have no intention—" said Mr. Enderby.

"You certainly are a most unsympathetic person," said Mrs. Rushton; and she went away feeling herself much ill-used, and firmly believing herself to be the only kind-hearted member of her family.

"After all, William," said Mrs. Enderby to her husband, "you ought not to be too hard upon Amy, for you see she has given up talking of going abroad with Lady Harriet."

"True; I have noticed that. Yet I fear she will not relinquish one folly without falling into another."

"Her present whim is at all events an amiable one," said Mrs. Enderby gently. "Let us hope no harm may come of it.'

"I should think it all most natural and right if any other woman than Amy were in question," said Mr. Enderby; "but one never knows to what extravagant lengths she will go."

The warnings of her brother had the effect of making Mrs. Rushton still more eager in her attendance on the child, and a few days after she had been "lectured" by him, as she put it to herself, she astonished good Mrs. Kane by saying:

"I think she is quite fit to be moved now, Mrs. Kane, and the doctor says so. I am going to take her home with me for a week for change of air."

"Laws, ma'am, you never mean it!"

"But I do mean it. I am going to fatten her up and finish her cure."

"Well, ma'am, I'm sure you are the kindest of the kind. To think of you troubling yourself and putting yourself out, and all for our little Hetty."

"That is my affair," said Mrs. Rushton laughing; "I don't think a mite like that will disturb my household very much. Just you pack her up, and I will carry her off with me to-morrow at three."

The next day the lady carried off her prize, greatly delighted to think of how shocked her brother would be when he heard of her new "folly." As soon as she had introduced Hetty to all her dogs, and cats, and rabbits, Mrs. Rushton went to her desk and wrote a note to her sister-in-law inviting the entire Wavertree family to spend a day at Amber Hill, which was the name of her charming dwelling-place.

When, on a certain morning, therefore, the Wavertree carriage stopped at the foot of the wide flight of steps, flanked by urns of blooming flowers, which led up to Mrs. Rushton's great hall door, the mistress of Amber Hill was seen descending the stone stair leading a little child by the hand. This was Hetty, dressed in a white frock of lace and muslin, and decked with rose-coloured ribbons.

"Isn't she a little beauty?" said Mrs. Rushton, smiling mischievously at her grave brother and sister-in-law. "Look up, my darling, and show your pretty brown velvet eyes. Did you ever see such a tint in human cheeks, Isabel, or such a crop of curling hair?"

"Do you really mean that this is the village child, Amy?" asked her brother.

"Yes, little Hetty is here!" said Amy with a gleeful laugh; "but then, William, Lady Harriet is gone. If I had asked you to meet her to-day instead of little Miss Gray from Wavertree, I wonder what you would have done to find a more disagreeable expression of countenance."

"Do you wish us to understand that you have adopted this 'nobody's child,' Amy?" said Mr. Enderby, looking more and more troubled.

"Well, to tell you the truth, I did not mean that quite," said Mrs. Rushton; "but now that you suggest it—"

"I suggest it!" cried Mr. Enderby.

"How horrified you look! But all the same you have suggested it, and I think it is a capital idea."

"Do not come to any hasty conclusion, I implore you, Amy. Think over it well. Consider the child's interests more than your own momentary self-indulgence!"

Mrs. Rushton coloured with displeasure.

"I see you are determined to be as disagreeable as usual," she said angrily. "As if the monkey could fail to be benefited by my patronage! Pray, will she not be better in my drawing-room than getting under horses' feet about the Wavertree roads, or losing