"I don't know why I am telling you all this to-night, Betty, unless it is that I feel so restless and wakeful. If I keep well everything will be all right, but if anything should ever happen—things do happen sometimes you know, darling—if you and Jack are ever left alone in the world, then you must try to find your Uncle Jack. He will be good to you and love you for my sake, I know."
"Where does he live, mother?"
"I don't know where he is now, but a letter sent to the old home would probably reach him. My father has been dead for nearly two years—I saw the notice of his death in an English newspaper—and Jack, as his only son, would naturally inherit everything. My father was a general, you know—General Stanhope. In my desk you will find a letter addressed to John Stanhope, Esq., Stonybrook Grange, Devonshire, England. That is the address of my old home. You must see that it is stamped and posted. I wrote it shortly after my father's death. I thought that I ought to make some provision in case of anything happening to me. In it I have told him everything, and asked him to care for you and Jack. Why, my darling, what are you crying for? I didn't say anything was going to happen. Hush, I hear Jack stirring; I am afraid our talk is disturbing him. Now turn over like a good little girl, and go to sleep. I feel better than I did, and I shall try to go to sleep too."
Betty, much reassured by her mother's words, obeyed as far as turning over was concerned, and soon the only sounds to be heard were the ticking of the clock and Mrs. Randall's heavy breathing. Betty lay awake for some time, thinking over the story she had heard, but she was only a little girl, after all, and before very long her thoughts grew dim and confused; she fell into a doze, and in a few moments more was fast asleep.
CHAPTER V
WINIFRED TO THE RESCUE
When Betty next opened her eyes it was broad daylight, and the morning sunshine was peeping through the chinks of the shutters. Her first thought was of her mother, and she was glad to find that Mrs. Randall was still asleep. She was breathing heavily, but her eyes were closed, and she did not cough. Even when Betty rose softly, and crept round to the other side of the bed to look at her more closely, she did not move, although she was as a rule a very light sleeper.
"It's after seven," said Betty to herself, glancing rather uneasily at the clock; "I don't think mother ever slept so late before."