“I shall make it my business to do so,” said Mrs. Everest, warmly. “I shall go to see Mrs. Tingsby to-day and question her.”
“If you want money for prosecution, call on me,” said the Judge.
“Thank you, I will. Well, what are you going to do about the little girl if you cannot find a home? Don’t send her back to Mrs. Tingsby’s. Give her to me, rather.”
“This would be a charming place for her,” said the Judge, looking about him. “I never thought of that. I don’t know anyone I would rather give the child to than to you.”
“I should be delighted to have her,” said Mrs. Everest, heartily, “and would try to make her happy; but in taking her I would not have you suppose for one single instant that I think you are not a very suitable and proper person to have charge of her. Do you know, I have often wondered why you have not done more active charitable work. You are so eminently qualified for it, and you have always been so generous and so sympathetic in your donations, that we all know your heart is with us.”
The Judge sighed. “I have had a very busy life, and then my troubles have made me egotistical. May I bring the little girl in for you to see her?”
“Certainly, or let me ring. Daisy will get her.”
The happy-faced little maid, upon being instructed, quickly ran downstairs and returned with Bethany.
Mrs. Everest put down the baby and went to meet her. “How do you do, dear?” she said, kissing her. Then, drawing her to the fire, she took off her gloves and rubbed her fingers.
“Why, you are quite cold,” she said; “quite cold, and you look forlorn.”