Presently she heard the sound of footsteps re-echoing along the silent corridor, and Mrs. Worthy walked slowly into the room with her nightcap on. In her hand she carried a candle, which she almost dropped in her astonishment at seeing Morag seated there.
"Bless my soul, child! are you here still? I was just on my way to bed. I declare I had quite forgotten all about you. Dear, dear, my 'ead's quite confused—and no wonder! Poor dear, you must be sadly tired. Too bad of Ellis not to have taken you to bed. She promised to see after you when she was sent along to you. I've just only now come from missie's room—dear angel: she does look so sweet. You'll see her to-morrow, my poor dear!"
And then, noticing Morag's wistful look as she murmured, "No the nicht," the old woman pondered for a while, and taking the candle again, she said, "Well, well, there can't be no 'arm: they are all cleared away now! Come, I'll take you, poor dear. You haven't been well treated noways among us all, and I heard the master tell Ellis that she was to look to you, and he would see you himself to-morrow."
Morag's heart leapt for joy. If she could only see her bonnie wee leddy even for a minute, and feel her protecting touch again, she would forget all her past troubles and be quite safe and happy in this strange land.
She followed Mrs. Worthy with joyful steps as she led her along the passages, which were cold and dark now. She smiled as she thought how astonished the wee leddy would be to see her mountain friend, for she remembered Ellis had said that she was not to be told of her arrival till next morning; but it was so good and kind of Mrs. Worthy to take her now. And then she tried to picture to herself how Blanche would be looking. Would she find her lying on a sofa, dressed in her pretty blue dressing-gown, which she wore on the evening she saw her last at the old castle of Glen Eagle? And would she seem much paler than she did then? Morag feared she might, when she remembered what a long time she had laid in bed; but summer days would soon come again, and the sunshine, which the bonnie leddy loved so well, would be sure to make her strong again.
Indeed, in her secret heart, Morag cherished the hope that her own presence might act as a talisman, and she smiled to think of the pleasant voice that would soon bid her welcome; for, since the dark hour in the fir-wood, when she thought Blanche had left the Glen without remembering to say farewell, Morag had never doubted the love and friendship of her gracious little friend.
At last Mrs. Worthy stopped at a closed door, and as she lowered the candle which she held in her hand, Morag caught sight of a familiar friend lying on the mat.
Chance was waiting there in a listening posture, with his nose against the door. Morag stooped down and patted him, but, instead of jumping up at her in outrageous welcome, as he used to do, he merely gave a faint wag of his tail, and looking wistfully into her face, raised a low, whining cry, and put his nose close to the door again.
"I'm thinkin' Chance will be wantin' in—to get a sicht o' her too," said Morag, smiling.