Nancy opened the door noisily and entered the room with a world of purpose depicted on her honest, homely face.
“Now, ma’am,” she began, “I have seen him off as snug and safe as possible, and the driver promises to deliver him sure as sure into his mother’s arms within the hour. A pretty sort of a mother she must be to let a bit of a babe like that wander about since before the dawn and never find him yet. Now, ma’am, you’re not settling down to that needlework at this hour? Oh, and you do look pale! Why, Mrs. Lovel, what’s the use of overdoing it?”
The lady so addressed raised her sad eyes to the kindly pair looking down at her and said gently:
“I am determined to be at least as brave as that brave little boy. He would not cry, although he longed to. I must either work or cry, so I choose to work. Nancy, how many yards of the lace are now finished?”
“Ten, I should think,” answered Nancy, whose countenance expressed strong relief at the turn the conversation had taken. “I should say there was ten yards done, ma’am, but I will go upstairs and count them over if you like.”
“I wish you would. If there are ten yards upstairs there are nearly two here; that makes just the dozen. And you think it is quite the best lace I have made yet, Nancy?”
“Oh, ma’am, beautiful is no word; and how your poor eyes stand the fine work passes my belief. But now, now, where’s the hurry for to-night? Why, your hands do shake terrible. Let me make you a cup of cocoa and light a fire in your bedroom, and you go to bed nice and early, Mrs. Lovel.”
Mrs. Lovel threw down her work with a certain gesture of impatience.
“I should lie awake all night,” said Mrs. Lovel. “Do you know, Nancy, that the little boy spoke of Kitty? He said my baby Kitty often mentioned the lady of the forest—that he and she both did. At first I thought that he meant me and that Kitty really spoke of her mother; but now I believe he was alluding to some imaginary forest lady.”
“The green forest lady,” interposed Nancy. “I don’t say, ma’am, that she’s altogether a fancy, though. There’s them—yes, there’s them whose words may be relied on who are said to have spoke with her.”