An hour later, while Una lay in bed listening for the slightest sound from her father's room, the Vicar fetched her to say good-night to him.
"Good-bye, darling," said her father. "God bless you, little one."
"Good-night, father—dear father!" said the child, crying softly, she knew not why; and then Mr. Carew carried her back to bed, and she slept soundly until awakened the next morning by the sunshine pouring through the window on to her bed.
But, although the sun shone brightly out of doors and birds sang gaily in the trees, it was a sad, sad day within the house, for Monsieur Gen had died during the night, and little Una was an orphan.
Oh, how slowly the hours of that day dragged by for Una! No one had much time to spare for the little girl, and she walked drearily from room to room, feeling that it was cruel of the sun to shine and the birds to sing so merrily when her father was dead and she would never, on earth, hear him speak again.
She fell asleep at last—curled up in one of the large study chairs—worn out with crying and want of sleep; for often during the last fortnight she had kept herself awake in case her father should want anything and call for her in the night.
There, some hours later, Mr. Carew found her—fast asleep, and with her arms tightly folded round one of her father's coats.
Very gently he lifted the little girl in his arms and carried her down the lane to the vicarage; and when Una awoke she found herself in Norah's little bed, with Mrs. Carew bending over her with loving looks and tender words of sympathy.
She was to live with them always now, Mrs. Carew told the little girl, and she must try and be as happy as she could among them, and look upon Norah and Dan and Mary and Ruth and Tom and Philip and Stephen as her own brothers and sisters.
In a few days' time, as soon as the little girl was well enough for the journey, she was sent with old Marie to stay at a little seaside place called Bembies. Dan went with them also, partly because Mrs. Carew had thought that it would be good for Una to have a child's company, and partly because the little boy really needed a change.