Then she turned to Granger.
"I won't trouble you to tell me about Bet," she said, in her most conciliatory tones. "Ef it's Dent's secret, I know as you ain't to blame. There's many a hard thing said about a person what hasn't a word of truth in it. I believe you're a right good man, Mr. Granger. Well, I must go off, for I'd like to get news of Bet, but ef you like I'll come back to-night and sing to you."
"Will you?" said Granger, eagerly. "There's nothing like a song, and somehow, your voice goes through a feller. I'll collect a few neighbors, and we'll have a bit of supper and a fine time. What hour'll you come, Hetty?"
"When the clock's gone seven," said Hester.
"I mightn't be in then,—I sometimes gets an odd job, and I may to-night, down by the docks; but I'll leave the room-door on the latch, and you can come in when you please. The boy? Oh, he's well enough. You won't mind hearing Hetty sing, will you, cap'n?"
Again the blue eyes looked up piteously, but the little white lips were silent. Hester nodded, and smiled brightly at Granger.
"I'll look in as soon as I can," she repeated. "You leave the door on the latch."
Then she tripped downstairs; she had not even glanced again in the direction of the little captain.
"Now to see Mother Bunch," said Hester to herself. "There's no doubt as my hands 'ull be full for the next few days; but I think I see a way of getting the better of Dent, and of Granger too,—see ef I don't—oh! that poor child—that poor, poor child!"
At the corner of the street, leaning half tipsily against the wall, stood the old hag to whom Hester had once given twopence. Her eyes brightened when she saw who was walking down the street.