John looked irresolutely towards the child in the window. Once more Flora was desired to come down, and once more she only replied, “Lady nods at me.”
Janet was going towards the window to enforce her aunt’s orders, but she was desired to keep her seat, and John quickly took up Miss Flora in his arms and set her down at her aunt’s knee. The child cried and struggled, said she would see the lady, and must infallibly have been dismissed to the nursery, but her eye was caught, and her mind presently engaged by Lady Rachel’s painted fan, on which there was a burning mountain, and a blue sea, and a shepherdess and her lamb—all very gay. Flora was allowed to have the fan in her own hands—a very rare favour. But
presently she left off telling her aunt what she saw upon it, dropped it, and clapped her hands, saying, as she looked at the window, “Lady nods at me.”
“It is mamma!” cried the elder ones, starting to their feet, as the lady thrust her face through the flowers, and close to the window-pane.
“Go to the nursery, children,” said Lady Rachel, making an effort to rise. “I will send for you presently.” The elder ones appeared glad to escape, and they carried with them the struggling Flora.
Lady Rachel threw up the sash, crossed her arms, and said, in the most formal manner, “What do you want, Lady Carse?”
“I want my children.”
“You cannot have them, as you well know. It is too late. I pity you; but it is too late.”
“I will see my children. I will come home and live. I will make that tyrant repent setting up anyone in my place at home. I have it in my power to ruin him. I—”