“Will Sir Hubert like the arrangement, your ladyship?” asked Dr. Scott, as he rose to depart.
Lady Coningham’s face flushed slightly.
“I will make it all right,” she replied, though with a little constraint. “Fortunately, Morris is a favorite with him. But now I must go; it is very late, and I have a long ride. Lest we should not meet again before you start, Mrs. Graham, let me say now how pleased I am to have made your acquaintance, though the introduction has been a sad one. I will let you know early in the morning, Dr. Scott, if I have succeeded; and may I ask you to send the child over?”
The doctor bowed, and opened the door.
“I will come down and assist you to mount. Your groom is with you, I trust?”
“Oh, yes!” Lady Coningham smiled another farewell to Mrs. Graham, and was passing out, when a thought struck her. “Suppose,” she said hurriedly, “suppose I cannot do this, what will become of the child?”
“She must go to the workhouse,” replied Dr. Scott, gloomily; “my hands are too full already, as your ladyship knows, and there is no other alternative.”
Lady Coningham could not repress a shudder.
“That must never be,” she said decidedly. “I must arrange with Morris. Many thanks. Good-by!”
Mrs. Graham rose early the next morning. Her sleep had been troubled and restless; but the child had never moved, and still slept on placidly as she dressed herself quietly. Dr. Scott was announced about half past eight, and his face showed that he had gained no further information.