Letty, as she gazed at her sleeping child, was so overcome with emotion, that she was impelled to get up suddenly, and walk away; but presently returned as the moth to the candle, and with a steady voice informed the nurse, that “she was fond of children, and that the little girl reminded her of someone.”
“There is one o’clock striking,” said nurse, “and that reminds me that it’s time for our dinner! Here’s your paper, miss, and thank you.”
“Oh, please keep it, I don’t want it back! I have any quantity of magazines, and books.”
“I do love reading, and specially magazines; but I can’t well leave this child to go and buy things—you see, I’m single-handed.”
“I will lend you magazines with pleasure,” volunteered this kind stranger. “Shall you be on the front to-morrow?”
“Yes, miss, at eleven, and if you can spare me something lively—I love murders—I’ll be obliged to you. I am a bit lonely now; a nurse, my friend, went yesterday. The family’s gone over to Boulogne, and I don’t have any talk with them boarding-house servants—they’re no class; I won’t deny that I’m sociable, but I’m suspicious of strangers, and as to who I know.”
“Of course,” assented Letty, “so am I—especially as I am here by myself.”
“Oh, indeed!” with a quick inquisitive glance, and then this pretty nameless young lady proceeded to inform her, that she was waiting to be joined by a relative, with whom she was going on the Continent; for, as she sat beside this unsuspicious woman, Letty had made up her mind to run away with the child! and was already maturing her plans.
Presently Cara awoke. She was a beautiful little girl of four, and as she opened her eyes, and stared up at the face bending over her, to that lady’s horror, and yet also to her joy, she ejaculated “Ma-ma!”
Her mother felt inclined to burst into tears, but struggled to subdue her feelings, which found relief in a wild, hysterical laugh.