“I cannot, father. I cannot speak to her, really.”
“Now, Jessie, I will have none of this.”
“Father!” the girl’s pale-blue eyes filled with tears. “Father, you cannot expect it, she’s not a lady—father, father!”
“She’s as much a lady by birth as you are.”
“I think not quite, dear,” interrupted the mother. “Remember the girl’s own mother.”
“I am thinking of her father,” said Wyndham, who was now thoroughly angry. “Of course the poor child knows nothing, and I should be ashamed of any daughter of mine who laughed at her and made life hard at present. Well done, little Molly! Jessie, if you wish to retain your father’s respect and affection you will follow your sister.”
Jessie walked away slowly. She did not say a word, but instead of going into Peggy’s room she retired into her own, where she flung herself into a chair, covered her face with her hands, and burst into a flood of weeping. “Oh dear! oh dear!” she sobbed, “I will never, never know happiness again!”
Meanwhile Wyndham and his wife were alone.
“My dear Paul, you have brought a creature here!”
“I admit it, Lucy, I admit everything; but she’s a beautiful little thing, and has a warm, loving heart. Oh my dear, if you are kind to her you will soon train her, and I assure you, my dear Lucy, she is quite as sorry to come to us as you are to receive her. If you had witnessed that poor child parting with her foster-parents you would know how full of love her heart is.”