"My dear child," said Mrs. Enderby, "how have you come to be forgotten
here, have you not been in bed all night?"

"I stayed here," said Hetty, "I wanted to know; will you not tell me how
she is?"

"My child, she is well, I hope, though not as you would wish to see her.
It has pleased God to take her away from you."

"Do you mean that she is dead?"

"Yes, my poor Hetty, I am grieved to tell you it is so."

Hetty uttered a sharp cry and turned her back on her friends standing
in the window. The gesture was an unmistakable one, and touched the
husband and wife. It seemed to say so plainly that she expected nothing
from them.

She retreated into the furthest corner of the room and flung herself on
the floor, and Scamp, hanging his head and wagging his tail, followed
her mournfully, and lay down as close to her as he could.

"Leave her alone awhile," said Mr. Enderby, for his wife had made a
movement as if she would follow her; "she is a strange child, and we
will give her time to take in the fact of her loss. You must not be
hurried into making rash promises through pity; all this brings a great
change to the girl, and it is better she should feel it from the first."

The truth was Mrs. Rushton had been dead when her brother and