"Dear child, is there any grain of truth in what this wild little scatter-brain has said?"
Reine burst into tears.
"Don't mind me, Mrs. Enderby, please; I have been awake all night, and I don't feel like myself. It is only that Hetty Gray is so—so distressingly like my mother. And Nell says she was found on the sea-shore after a storm and wrecks. And it is fourteen years ago. And that is the very time when our vessel was wrecked, and my father and mother believed that our baby was drowned. Oh, Mrs. Enderby, only think! Is it not enough to turn my head?"
"It is a very remarkable coincidence at least," said Mrs. Enderby; "but, dear Reine, try to compose your thoughts. You must not jump too hastily at conclusions. At the end of fourteen years it will be very difficult to find evidence to prove or disprove what you imagine may be true."
Reine shook her head. "I have thought of that; I have thought of it all night."
"In the first place, are you quite sure about the dates?"
"Quite, on my own side. I have a little New Testament in which my father wrote down, the day after our rescue, the date of the wreck and a record of the baby's death."
"We must send for Mrs. Kane," said Mrs. Enderby; "and hear what she has to say before we allow our imaginations to run away with us."
"And oh, Mrs. Enderby,—if you saw the likeness of my mother at just Hetty's age! May I telegraph for it at once—to let you see it?"
"Certainly, my dear; for it and that copy of the Testament. But not a word to Hetty. It would be cruel to run the risk of subjecting her to a heavy disappointment"