Little Pearl commenced to cry, and Dorothy was at her wit's end to know what to do with her.
She was all flushed with nervousness by the time she heard footsteps in the corridor approaching the room.
An instant later the silken portières were swept aside by a white, jeweled hand, and a white-haired lady entered.
Dorothy rose to her feet, and caught her breath with a low cry that died in her throat.
The room seemed to whirl around her. She stood face to face with Jack's mother!
Dorothy had never seen her but once or twice before in those old days.
She remembered every lineament of her face perfectly, however. How could she help it, when Mrs. Garner bore such a striking resemblance to her fair-haired, handsome son? But she could not understand it; it almost seemed as if she was in a dream to find Mrs. Garner here surrounded by such elegance as this.
But before she could collect her scattered senses the lady advanced toward her, saying, in her sweet, kind voice:
"You are very punctual, Mrs. Brown. This is in itself a great recommendation. You are tired holding the baby in your arms. I will ring for one of the servants to relieve you for a little while, if you wish."
Dorothy never remembered in what words she thanked her, and she was even too confused to keep the thread of the conversation, but was conscious that she was replying at random. Yet the kind old lady did not seem to notice her confusion.