"It was the window. I suppose the sash has closed a bit. I must see to it to-morrow, or it may catch somebody's fingers."
But the sash had not closed—quite the contrary. Some one outside had pushed it up a tiny bit more, and behold!—in walked, fat, snow-white, and beautiful as ever, Mrs. Zelica! Purring loudly, she marched over to the sofa, sprang up, curled herself up in her own particular place, and looked at the astonished assembly with a condescending and self-satisfied air. What a fuss a little dog would have been in! What waggings of the tail, and ecstatic wriggles, mingled with small strangled squeals of joy at seeing his dear mistress again! But Zelica, being but a cat, just blinked at them all, and felt important.
"Why! Oh, my Zelica! Is this you? Then he didn't eat you? Where have you been? Who brought you? Oh, mamma! 'Twas Hetty—my dear, dear Hetty! Oh, run, call her to me! I do love Hetty!"
Mr. Eyre sprang up and went to the door; but Hetty was gone.
Flo did not know how to make enough of Zelica. But the loving little heart was not satisfied. Mrs. Eyre, who had gone to the window when her husband ran to the door, had found poor Hetty's letter, but she slipped it into her pocket, and said nothing about it until the children were in bed. Then she said,—
"John, there was a letter left on the window-sill. I have it here. I did not want to excite poor Flo. Here it is, dear; read it to me."
For she had baby in her arms.
"'My dear mistress,'" began John, in a stern tone of voice, which, however, softened as he read on,—
"'I hope I may be forgiven for writing to you. Mrs. Goodenough told me to-night that Miss Flo still cries after Zelica. I did not know that she was well enough to care for her yet. I found her at the station that day; she must have followed me there.'"
"'Dear mistress, try to forgive me. I am too sorry to know how to say it. I do not feel as if I could ever be happy any more. After all your kindness, and the master's, such a return to make and, loving Miss Flo with all my heart, to be so wicked about her. I know master was right to send me off, and he never could trust me any more. I am glad Miss Flo has forgotten me. I pray continually that she may grow strong and well, and I hope your new girl will be fond of her, and patient with her.'"
"'If you could say you forgive me, maybe I could be more at rest. Sometimes I get stupid, thinking of Miss Flo; for indeed, ma'am, though you may well not believe it, I do love both of you, and I think I shall never forget what I felt when I got back to the hut, and could not find her.'"
"'I remain, ma'am,'"
"'Your poor, bad servant,'"
"'HESTER HARDY.'"
"Poor girl," said John Eyre to himself, as he folded up the letter. "That old Goodenough! Why, Flo thought Zelica was dead; and as to forgetting Hetty, I wish she had!"