As soon as the 'bus had drawn up, the door of the house was flung open and Fanny tore out. "Oh, my dear!" she cried, almost lifting her little mistress down bodily in her plump arms. "Oh, my dear Miss Kitty, I'm that glad to see 'ee! They said as the tellygram couldn't reach 'ee in time to catch that train, but I knew better. I knew if you got that there message you'd come by that early train, even if it had started."
"What telegram?" asked Kitty. "I haven't had one."
"Why, to tell 'ee to come 'ome 'cause Mrs. Pike is so ill. And if it haven't reached 'ee, why the postmaster-general ought to be written to 'bout it. But," breaking off with sudden recollection, "you'm come; and if you didn't get that tellygram, whatever made 'ee to? You didn't have no token, did 'ee?"
"I had Betty's letter," said Kitty, trying to sort things out in her mind. "That was all I had, and that brought me. I expect I had left before the telegram reached. I remember now I passed a boy on my way to the station. But what about Betty? Have you heard anything? Has she come back? Have you sent in search of her? Weller told me about poor Aunt Pike—oh, Isn't it dreadful, Fanny! Two such awful things to happen in one day! But he didn't know anything about Betty, and I didn't tell him. She hasn't been found, I suppose? I must go. I think I may be able to find her if I start at once—but there is Aunt Pike. What must I do first?" despairingly. "I must find Betty. She has no one else to look after her, while Aunt Pike has you."
"If you wants Miss Betty, you'll find her in her bedroom," said Fanny, looking somewhat cross and puzzled. "I don't know, I'm sure, why you're making such a to-do about seeing her, when there's so much else to think on. Miss Betty's all right, and so is—Why, Miss Kitty, what's the matter? You ain't feeling bad, are you?" cried Fanny in great alarm, for poor Kitty had dropped, white and limp, and trembling uncontrollably, into a chair in the hall.
"Oh no—no. I'm all right. Only—I'm so—so glad. I have been so frightened about her; but I am so glad—so—I came to—to try to find her. No one knew I had come, and all the way I was thinking of her out all night in the dark and rain; and then the good news came, and it— made me feel—feel—" Kitty's head fell forward again, and the world seemed to rock and sway, and recede farther and farther from her, when a voice said, "Leave her to me," and some one lifted her up and laid her on a couch, and then something was held to her lips and her nose, and presently Kitty began to feel that the rest of the world was not so very, very far off after all, and then she sighed and opened her eyes, and saw a strange face looking down at her. It was rather a tired, anxious face, but it smiled very kindly at Kitty.
"Better now?" asked Dr. Yearsley.
"Yes, thank you," whispered Kitty. "How funny!"
"I am glad you can see any fun in it," said the doctor with the ghost of a smile. "It is the only funny thing that has happened in this unlucky house for the last day or two. But it isn't the sort of humour I appreciate."
"I am so sorry," said Kitty, trying to rise, "only I have never fainted before, and it seemed so odd that I should. It is a horrid feeling."