It was not until three years later that she heard of Sarah again. Then she received a note from Mrs. Bronson, who, it appeared, had come East for a few days and was stopping at a large hotel in town.
Bertha was delighted. With a whimsical remembrance of her long, tedious days with Sarah was a real affection for her. She left the children at home, although they clamored to be taken to see their old friend.
She felt that there was so much to talk about that she must be absolutely untrammeled. How she would astonish Dick when he came home!
As she ascended in the gorgeous elevator, her mind mechanically reverted to Sarah’s former surroundings; she was glad to be able to infer that the silver mines had proved fortunate. She was shown into a private parlor, equally gorgeous in its appointments. She heard the sound of a laughing voice in the adjoining room, and the next moment a porti—re was pushed aside and Sarah appeared. She was dressed in a trailing silken tea-gown of a deep crimson tint—her hair shone like a coronal of gold, there was a rosy flush on her cheeks, and her eyes gleamed with merriment. In her arms she held a handsome baby boy of about a year old, who suddenly turned and ducked his head into his mother’s neck as he saw the stranger, taking hold of her hair with both hands and giving it a pull that loosened its fastenings and sent it tumbling around them both.
“You little rogue,” she said. “His nurse has gone out for a few moments, and I don’t know what to do with him. Keep still, Wilfred.”
Two small, fat, black-stockinged feet, like little puddings, were kicking wildly in a vain attempt to get up on her shoulder, and, presumably, over on the other side, where his head and hands already were, as far as possible from the strange lady.
Sarah sat down on the sofa, clasping the boy in one arm; with the other she swept the tumbled hair back from her face.
“Now I can at least look at you, Bertha,” she said.
Bertha made a movement forward to kiss her, but the infant, who had turned his head for furtive observation, ducked back again with renewed scramblings and kicking at the first indication of her approach.
“I think he will kill me soon,” said his mother resignedly.