"Come along, then; let us get the inspection over. But, if you can't give her money, what do you propose to do with her?"
"I—thought"—Lady Cicely paused, glanced into her cousin's grave face, and glanced away again—"I fancied, perhaps, I might help her to get work. She is horribly poor, and she looks half-fed, and so tired. I—well—I—really and truly, Rupert, I wondered whether she could come here as nurse to Baba."
A low whistle was Rupert's response, then he said slowly—
"You didn't suggest this to her, did you? You are so kind, so impulsive, but, remember this girl is a perfect stranger. She may be—anything. As you yourself told me two days ago, you must have unimpeachable references with anyone who takes charge of Baba."
"Of course I said nothing to her. Now, Rupert, I know I am impulsive, but I am not entirely devoid of all common sense. Come and give me your opinion, and I promise—yes, I absolutely promise—to be guided by you."
Rupert's grey eyes smiled down with brotherly affection into his little cousin's face, and he followed her obediently from the room, and upstairs, wondering vaguely why it was, that, much as he cared for and admired Cicely, she had never inspired him with any deeper affection. Like an elder brother to her from her earliest childhood, the brotherly relation had continued between them after Cicely's marriage, and it had been by her dead husband's most earnest wish, and specified instructions, that Mernside was one of her trustees and Baba's guardians, and Mr. Redesdale had bidden his wife consult Rupert about everything connected with the estate and its baby heiress.
On the landing at the head of the stairs a small figure with flying golden curls, and filmy white frock, flung herself upon her mother, shrieking delightedly.
"Baba's runned away from Jane. Now Baba come with mummy."
"Oh, Baba, you are not a good baby," Cicely exclaimed, with an attempt at severity, which only produced a chuckle from the small girl; "it is time mummy found a very stern nurse. Nevertheless her appearance is opportune," she said, sotto voce, to Rupert. "I told Miss Moore I would fetch Baba, and I don't want her to feel she is being inspected. Run on into mummy's boudoir, sweetheart," she added aloud to the child, "there's somebody there for Baba to see."
It was a pretty sight which greeted the two elders when, a moment later, they entered the rose-coloured room; and Rupert paused for an instant in the doorway, to look and smile. Baba, after one short glance at the stranger, who had risen from her chair, made a rush across the room towards her, clasped her round the knees, and cried fervently—