And neither of them noticed that at the sound of the child's clear voice, a tall stately figure moved towards them.
Mr. Graham was startled when he was confronted by a very beautiful woman, with a cold grave face.
Her tone was haughty in the extreme:
"May I ask if that child belongs to you?"
"I wish she did, madam; but she is in my charge."
"Is her name Felicia Darrell?"
"It is, though she is accustomed to be called Harebell."
"I am her aunt, Mrs. Keith. Mr. Capel has forwarded me your letters."
"Ah, yes. Well, I was her father's executor! He was ill but twelve hours, poor chap! And I had only the address of his lawyer. I did not know of any relation—there seemed to be no letters—I'm glad she'll have some one to look after her—"
"I was her mother's sister," said Mrs. Keith severely, "but we never corresponded."