“Thank you,” said Allison. There were tears in her eyes though she smiled.
“Here’s my lady,” said Delvie, bending to his work again.
Mrs Esselmont came slowly toward them, leaning on the arm of her maid, a woman several years older than herself.
“You may leave me here with Allison Bain,” said she; “I will take a turn or two and then I will be in again.”
She had the minister’s note in her hand, but she made no allusion to it as they moved slowly up and down. They spoke about the flowers, and the fair day, and about Marjorie and the new baby for a while, and then Mrs Esselmont said:
“You have a strong arm, Allison, and a kind heart. I am sure of it. I have something to say to you which I thought I could best say here. But I have little strength, and am weary already. We will go into the house first.”
So into the house they went, and when Milne had stirred the fire and made her mistress comfortable, she went away and left them together.
“Allison,” said Mrs Esselmont, after a moment’s silence, “I have something to say to you.”
And then she told her that she was going away for the winter because of her ill-health, and spoke of the plan which she had proposed to Marjorie’s father and mother for the benefit of the child. This plan could only be carried out with Allison’s help, because Mrs Hume would never trust her child to the care of a stranger. The mother thought that she would neither be safe nor happy with any other. And then she added:
“I could only ask them to let me take her if I could have you also to care for her. I cannot say certainly that she will ever be strong and well, but I have good hope that she may be much stronger than she is now. Think about it. You need not decide at once, but the sooner the better. We have no time to lose.”