"It would be very ungrateful of her if she had, for Hetty was very good to her."
"Poor girl!" said the master again.
"John, dear, I must have a girl; and, to be frank with you, I would rather have Hetty than a stranger. She is so gentle and patient, and so perfectly truthful. She is a really good girl, and it is not so easy to find a really good girl. Besides, Flo is too ill to be reasonable, and she will not like any stranger, because she is longing for Hetty."
"Well, dear, I know I told the girl never to let me see her face again, but—I suppose we had better make our poor little Flora as happy as we can while we have her with us. But I tell you fairly, I think we ought never to lose sight of the girl when she has the cart of Flo. She is so terribly heedless, though, as you say, a good girl for all that."
"Then I may see her to-morrow?"
"Yes; but don't tell Flo till you are sure of her."
So it came about that once again Mrs. Eyre tapped on the half-closed door of Mrs. Hardy's house, and was told to "come in."
"Why, if it isn't Mrs. Eyre!" cried Matty joyfully.
"Mrs. Eyre! Matty, you're a—But it is, for all that. Ma'am, I'm nearly ashamed to face you."
"You have no cause to be, Mrs. Hardy. Hetty is a good girl, and, if she was heedless, we must remember that she is very young. It was a great misfortune; but, you know, if the dog had not awakened my poor little girl, no harm would have been done. Where is Hetty?"