"Oh, I see," said the lady, with a faint smile; "you are angry because I
have left him on your hands so many days. That is pardonable in you.
But, you see, my girl, it was not my fault. I never even heard of the
little fellow's existence until late last night. I could not sleep for
thinking of him. And I came here as soon as I had had my breakfast."

"Madam, can a lady have a son and not know it?" exclaimed Hannah, her
amazement fast rising to alarm, for she was beginning to suppose her
visitor a maniac escaped from Bedlam.

"Nonsense, Hannah; do not be so hard to propitiate, my good woman! I
have explained to you how it happened! I came as soon as I could! I am
willing to reward you liberally for all the trouble you have had with
him. So now show me my son, there's a good soul."

"Poor thing! poor, poor thing! so young and so perfectly crazy!"
muttered Hannah, looking at the countess with blended pity and fear.

"Come, Hannah, show me my son, and have done with this!" said the
visitor, rising.

"Don't, my lady; don't go on in this way; you know you have no son; be
good, now, and tell me if you really are the Countess of Hurstmonceux;
or if not, tell me who you are, and where you live, and let me take you
back to your friends," pleaded Hannah, taking her visitor by the hands.

"Oh, there he is now!" exclaimed the countess, shaking Hannah off, and
going towards the bed where she saw the babe lying.