"The baby I saved!" repeated the doctor, passing his hand across his forehead. "Did I ever save anybody?" he asked in a wild, eager tone.
"Yes, sir, you saved Milly's life; but mother's dead now, sir, and Jack don't know what we'd best do about her."
"About this baby?"
"She ain't a baby now," hastily interrupted Bob. "Mother said a short time ago she thought she must be going on six years. It's four years ago I picked her up and brought her here."
"Ah, yes, I remember; and now you're going to bring her here again; that's right, that's right. I'd like to see this baby; bring her now." And the doctor made an impatient gesture for Bob to go at once.
Bob would much rather have seen the housekeeper than Dr. Mansfield, for it was generally believed in the village that he was insane, and he felt somewhat nervous at the thought of leaving Milly in that large rambling old house with a madman. But the doctor had spoken so imperatively, that he knew not how to disobey him, for he feared that if he did so, the doctor would himself come and carry her off.
This fear at last prevailed over every other feeling. But inwardly hoping that the housekeeper might return before he got back to the house, he went to Milly, telling her she was going to see the lady that had sent her all her new frocks.
To his very great disappointment, almost consternation, he heard that the housekeeper had not come back.
But Dr. Mansfield, who had been waiting his return, stepped out of an adjoining room and looked at Milly. Long and earnestly did he gaze into her upturned face, and Milly as steadfastly regarded him.
"Little girl, will you come to me?" he said at length, in a voice faltering with emotion.