"I have. I thought I was at school, and that Mrs. Treadgold, one of our mistresses, had beaten me. I fancied that she was beating me hard, and that made me wake. Now I remember that I am with you. Oh, yes, I should like to come into your bed."
"Then you shall come at once," said Irene.
She lifted the little girl out. She herself felt quite old and motherly beside the little one. During the remainder of the night they slept in each other's arms, and much of the hardness and the wildness of Irene's nature melted away during that sleep, and some of that motherhood which is the most blessed gift God can give to a girl visited her.
She herself insisted on helping Agnes to dress in the morning, and then they went down to breakfast hand in hand.
CHAPTER XX.
A SORT OF WITCH.
Hughie was a dictatorial, troublesome sort of boy; but Rosamund took him in hand from the first, and kept him somewhat in order. Miss Frost, looking very patient, followed her brother and sister and Irene about. Once little Agnes was all alone in a bower, where she was waiting for Irene to come to her. This was Rosamund's opportunity. She went straight up to the child, took one of her hands, and sat down near her.
"I am so glad, Agnes," she said, "that you love Irene. But now I want to say something to you."
"I love you, too," said little Agnes, who was the gentlest and most affectionate creature under the sun.