“I knew she would! Poor little Ducky Darling!” said Owlet, and once more she subsided into silence, with her head on Miss Fronde’s bosom.
“Am I too heavy for you, Lady? Do I tire you?” she inquired at length.
“No, darling; not at all,” Miss Fronde replied, smiling at the idea of herself being fatigued.
“Do I bother you a bit, lying here?”
“Not in the least.”
“Oh! you know it has been so long! so long! since I saw you! So many, many years! years and years! and years! I did think I would never see you no more! Never no more! Never no more! Oh, Lady!”
“You shall never leave me again, my dear, if I can possibly help it.”
“That man who took me away was not possessed of common sense. Now, was he, Lady?”
“I am afraid he had not that excuse for his wickedness; but don’t think anything more about him, dear. Try to compose yourself,” Miss Fronde said gently, smoothing the brown curls away from the flushed little face.
“Yes, I will do everything you tell me,” said the child, and with a sigh of infinite satisfaction she subsided into quietude, and soon into sleep.