Hetty Gray | Page 5

known in all her frivolous life.
Mrs. Kane was out at the garden gate looking up and down the road for the missing Hetty. When she saw Hetty lifted out of the carriage she began to cry.
"Oh my! my!" she sobbed, "I never thought it would come to this with her, and she so sharp. Thank you, madam, thank you, I'm sure. She's not my own child, but I feel it as much as if she was."
Mrs. Rushton then sent the carriage off for the doctor and went into the cottage with Mrs. Kane. The child was laid as gently as possible on a poor but clean bed covered with a patchwork quilt of many colours, and the lady of fashion sat by her side, bathing the baby forehead with eau de Cologne which she happened to have with her. It was all new and unexpectedly interesting to Mrs. Rushton. Never had she been received as a friend in a cottage home before, the only occasions when she had even seen the inside of one were those on which she had accompanied Mrs. Sourby on her mission of distributing tracts; and on those occasions she had felt that she was not looked on as a friend by the poor who received her, but rather as an intruder. It was evident now that good, grieved Mrs. Kane took her for an angel as she sat by the little one's bed, and it was new and delightful to Mrs. Rushton to be regarded as a benefactress by anyone.
The doctor arrived, set the child's arm, which was found to be broken, and gave her something to make her fall asleep. Then he charmed Mrs. Rushton by complimenting that lady on her goodness of heart.
"Remember, all the expense is to be mine," she said to him, "and I hope you will order the little one everything she can possibly require. I will come to see her to-morrow, Mrs. Kane, and bring her some flowers and fruit."
The pretty green woods which Hetty loved had grown dark, the butterflies had flown away to whatever dainty lodging butterflies inhabit during the summer nights, the yellow wings of the flag-lilies fluttered unseen in the shadows, and the moon had risen high above the tall beech-trees and the old church tower. Mrs. Rushton stepped into her carriage once more, and was driven rapidly through the quiet village, away towards her own luxurious home, feeling more interested and excited than she had felt for a long time.
Little Hetty Gray, her scare of fright and pain gone for the time like a bad dream, lay sound asleep upon her humble bed, and Mrs. Kane, trimming her night-light, paused to listen, with that fascination which many people feel at the sound, 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
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ADOPTED.
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