“Hush, my child,” said Mrs Willis very quietly; “try to calm yourself. Whatever you have got to say shall be listened to later on—now moments are precious, and I cannot attend to you. Calm yourself, Hester, and thank God for your dear little sister’s safety. Prepare yourself to receive her, for the carriage which takes me to Annie will bring little Nan home.”
Mrs Willis left the room, and Hester threw herself on hen knees and covered her face with her trembling hands. Presently she was aroused by a light touch on her arm; it was Susan Drummond.
“I may go now, I suppose, Hester? You are not quite determined to make a fool of me, are you?”
“I have determined to expose you, you coward, you mean, mean girl!” answered Hester, springing to her feet. “Come, I have no idea of letting you go. Mrs Willis won’t listen—we will find Mr Everard.”
Whether Susan would really have gone with Hester remains to be proved, but just at that moment all possibility of retreat was cut away from her by Miss Agnes Bruce, who quietly entered Mrs Willis’s private sitting-room, followed by the very man Hester was about to seek.
“I thought it best, my dear,” she said, turning apologetically to Hester, “to go at once for our good clergyman; you can tell him all that is in your heart, and I will leave you. Before I go, however. I should like to tell you how I found Annie and little Nan.”
Hester made no answer; just for a brief moment she raised her eyes to Miss Agnes’s kind face, then they sought the floor.
“The story can be told in a few words, dear,” said the little lady. “A work-woman of the name of Williams, whom my sister and I have employed for years, and who lives near Oakley, called on us this morning to apologise for not being able to finish some needlework. She told us that she had a sick child, and also a little girl of three, in her house. She said she had found the child, in ragged gipsy garments, fainting in a field. She took her into her house, and, on undressing her, found that she was no true gipsy, but that her face and hands and arms had been dyed; she said the little one had been treated in a similar manner. Jane’s suspicions and mine were instantly roused, and we went back with the woman to Oakley, and round, as we had anticipated, that the children were little Nan and Annie. The sad thing is that Annie is in high fever, and knows no one. We waited there until the doctor arrived, who spoke very, very seriously of her case. Little Nan is well, and asked for you.”
With these last words Miss Agnes Bruce softly left the room, closing the door after her.
“Now, Susan,” said Hester, without an instant’s pause; “come, let us tell Mr Everard of our wickedness. Oh, sir,” she added, raising her eyes to the clergyman’s face, “if Annie dies I shall go mad. Oh, I cannot, cannot bear life if Annie dies!”