Lucy went away, and after some time Hetty heard Mrs. Enderby's voice at the door.
"I hope you will not refuse to let me in," she said. "I request that you will open the door."
Hetty rose from the floor very unwillingly and opened the door, and Mrs. Enderby came in.
"Hetty, what is the meaning of this strange conduct?" she said, looking at the marks of wild weeping on the child's swollen face.
"Everybody's conduct has been bad to me," wailed Hetty.
"What has been done to you?" asked Mrs. Enderby.
"Everyone hates Scamp, and they have taken him away. And I have no one to love me but him."
"Perhaps people would love you if you were not so fierce and wild, Hetty," said Mrs. Enderby. "Now, try and listen to me while I talk to you. It was very wrong of you to get up in the night and open the door, so as to alarm the house by the noise. And it was very wrong of you to take a dog into your room and into your bed."
"It was Scamp," mourned Hetty. "Scamp loves me. And how could I leave him outside when he wanted to be with me?"
"You could have done so because it would have been right," said Mrs. Enderby. "You knew that Mr. Enderby had refused to allow the dog to come here. You ought to have remembered his wishes. He has been very good to you, and you must learn to obey him."