“It’s true, it’s true! he is lost forever! Oh, Oliver! can’t you comfort me a little? You never failed me before; don’t leave me now when I need it the most!” and she wound her arms convulsively round his neck.
Oliver had his suspicions, but as he could give no reason for them he would not rouse hopes which might never be realized, and he only answered through his tears:
“I would like to comfort you, Milly, if I could; but I can’t,—I can’t!”
“Mildred!” It was Geraldine who spoke, and Mildred involuntarily shuddered as she heard the voice. “Uncle Robert once saw the woman who took care of Cousin Helen, and talked with her of his daughter and the baby, both of whom she declared to be dead. Had we not better send for him at once, and see if he remembers this creature,” nodding toward Esther Bennett, who had also entered the room. “He surely cannot mistake her if he ever saw her once.”
Oliver looked to see the hag make some objections, but, to his surprise, she said eagerly:
“Yes, send for him. He will remember me, for he came to New York just three days after I left the baby at this door. He is a tall man, slightly bald, with black eyes, and coarse black hair, then beginning to be gray.”
Mildred groaned as did Oliver, for the description was accurate, while even the Judge brought his fist down upon the table, saying:
“Bob to a dot! but hanged if I believe it! We’ll telegraph though in the morning.”
The result of the telegram was that at a late hour the next night Mr. Thornton rang the bell at Beechwood, asking anxiously why he had been sent for in such haste.
“Because,” answered the Judge, who met him first, “maybe you’ve a grandchild upstairs, and maybe you hain’t!”