"Then why might I not speak of her?"
"You misunderstood me, dear; you kept calling, calling, and I only meant to quiet you."
"But if Hetty was not hurt, why did she not stay with me and nurse me, mamma?"
"Well; dear, Hetty was to blame about that day—she had left the hut while you were asleep, to search for Zelica, I believe; but, indeed, I do not know exactly what happened. Papa sent Hetty away."
Flo was too well taught to question papa's doings; but that very evening she began begging him to bring Hetty back.
"I want her so much. I do love Hetty. Just tell her that 'Miss Flo' wants her, and I know she will come at once. She loves me so."
"My dear, I sent her away because it was through her carelessness that this accident happened to you. When mamma has time, she will look about for a nice, kind girl to carry you; and now we'll say no more about Hetty."
To this hint Flo declined to attend. She was very weak, and mamma had others to attend to now, and could not devote herself to Flo as she did while at R—, and Flo cried for Hetty far too often for her own good, and began to look as bad as ever.
Hetty, no longer daring to come to the house, used now to waylay Mrs. Goodenough on her way home, to ask about Miss Flo. One day the old woman did not appear at her usual time; it was quite evening before she came, but Hetty waited all the time.
"Well, Hetty, here you are, to bother me about that child, that's the worrit of the whole house! The crossest, complainingest little worry that ever I did see! Morning, noon, and night, the cry is—"