"Don't you know me, Walter? Don't you remember Cousin Hilda?"
"Yes, I remember you," the child said, now returning her embrace. "You used to tell me stories and take me out in a carriage for drives. Where have you been so long? And where is grandpapa? Oh, here is Netta!" and as Hilda put him down he ran to her, for during the four months spent in the country she had been his chief playmate.
"I have learned to swim, Netta. Uncle Bill has taught me himself; and he is going to take me out in his barge some day."
The woman, who had come in with her arms covered with lather, from the little washhouse adjoining the house, now came forward.
"I hope, miss, that there is nothing wrong," she said to Hilda. "We have done our best for the little boy, and I have come to care for him just as if he had been my own; and if you are going to take him away I shall miss him dreadful, for he is a dear little fellow," and she burst into tears.
Walter struggled from Netta's arms, and ran to the woman, and, pulling her by the apron, said:
"Don't cry, Aunt Betsy; Jack is not going away from you. Jack will stay here; he likes going in a barge better than riding in a carriage."
"Well, Miss Covington," Mr. Bostock said, "the recognition appears to be complete on both sides; now what is the next step? Do you give this man into custody for unlawfully concealing this child and aiding and abetting in his abduction?"
"Will you wait a minute while I speak to Mr. Pettigrew?" she said; and they went out of the house together.
"Well, what do you think, Mr. Pettigrew?"