“Well, I am unhappy, but not sorry. No, no; don’t ask me, I cannot pray.”
Chapter Forty Three.
Susan.
Mrs Willis came back at a very late hour from Sefton. The police were confident that they must soon discover both children, but no tidings had yet been heard of either of them. Mrs Willis ordered her girls to bed, and went herself to kiss Hester and give her a special “good-night.” She was struck by the peculiarly unhappy, and even hardened, expression on the poor child’s face, and felt that she did not half understand her.
In the middle of the night Hester awoke from a troubled dream. She awoke with a sharp cry, so sharp and intense in its sound that had any girl been awake in the next room she must have heard it. She felt that she could no longer remain close to that little empty cot. She suddenly remembered that Susan Drummond would be alone to-night: what time so good as the present for having a long talk with Susan and getting her to clear Annie? She slipped out of bed, put on her dressing-gown, and softly opening the door, ran down the passage to Susan’s room.
Susan was in bed, and fast asleep. Hester could see her face quite plainly in the moonlight, for Susan slept facing the window, and the blind was not drawn down.
Hester had some difficulty in awakening Miss Drummond, who, however, at last sat up in bed, yawning prodigiously.
“What is the matter? Is that you, Hester Thornton? Have you got any news of little Nan? Has Annie come back?”