For a few moments he felt inclined to act upon his natural impulse of kindliness—to take the child back to her mother, and pursue his strange scheme of setting Margaret right with her husband by himself. But a remnant of selfishness withheld him. Laura, in her sweet, childish innocence and in the unchildlike development of her inner life, was a beautiful problem, the like of which had never before, in all his wanderings through the fields of humanity, been presented to him. He longed to study her more closely, and this could only be done by following out his original scheme. He determined, therefore, to leave the decision to her.
He said very little during breakfast-time, only watched her with a certain curiosity. He was grateful to this child who had opened a door of light in his soul, though he was not near enough to her in purity and beauty to know how great was the service she had rendered him.
Breakfast was something of a pretence to both of them. The longing for her mother, and the brave determination to choke it down in her heart till she had done what was required of her—found this unknown father and brought him back—made the child too excited for eating to be any pleasure to her; and L'Estrange at the best of times could not eat so early.
When it was over the child got up. "Please," she said hesitatingly. She was in a great perplexity about what she should call her new protector.
He read her thought: "Come here, Laura."
She went quietly to his side, and he drew her on to his knees. "I knew another Laura once," he said quietly, stroking back her hair; "she was the sister of your mother; but she is dead now, pauvre enfant!" And then he continued, as if talking to himself: "Comme elle était gentille, la chère petite!"
"That must be my aunt Laura," said the child; "mamma has a picture of her, and I kiss it sometimes."
"Yes, she would be your aunt, ma fillette; you are like her. Ah! I remember now—it is of her that your eyes make me think. Turn round to the light."
"But why do you talk about Aunt Laura?" said the child impatiently. "Please, I want a sheet of paper. I can only write big letters, but I think mamma would understand."