"The doctor says far better not, Barbara. And what does it matter? We have our old fashions and fancies about wearing mourning, but surely it is of more consequence to save the child that is left, than to pay mere outward honour to the memory of one for whom human love can do no more!"
Barbara could only obey, but she did so with an uneasy feeling.
"I can see the cuckoo in the nest already," she said to herself. "Edward Austin's child has but just come under this roof-tree, and yet she has begun to rule everybody beneath it, from the mistress downwards. She will have her way, and she will get it; but it will be by witchery, and not by fair means. And to think she is only seven years old, but with a face of an angel, and a little tongue that would coax a hen off her nest. However, if my darling nursling's life is saved through the little witch, I shall forgive her, in spite of myself."
Barbara not only forgave, but soon found herself as much at the will of this strange child as did others at Monks Lea.
[CHAPTER IV.]
IT seemed strange that no after inquiry was made about Clare. Mrs. Austin wrote to Mrs. Allington, and told her of the child's safe arrival, and of the favourable impression she had already made. She described the meeting with Margery, and the immediate good which resulted from it, and announced her intention of keeping, educating, and ultimately providing for Clare.
"She will share every advantage with my own daughter, who is delighted with her new sister. To you I cannot sufficiently express my gratitude, for every one here shares my belief that Clare's coming will save Margery's life," wrote Mrs. Austin.
This letter never reached the lady to whom it was addressed. It was returned through the Dead Letter Office, marked, "Removed; present address unknown."
This incident made Mrs. Austin uneasy and anxious. Could she be the victim of a clever trick? The Mrs. Allington who had been the friend of Clare's mother was, she knew, a most unlikely person to lend herself to any imposture. But Mrs. Austin remembered that Barbara doubted the genuineness of the handwriting, and the letter promised in the telegram had never arrived. Could it be possible that Edward Austin was still living, and had first made himself acquainted with the state of affairs at Monks Lea, then planned to get his child installed there, with a view to using her in after years as a means of money-getting?
Without even telling Barbara, Mrs. Austin instituted private inquiries, and found that rooms in the house whence Mrs. Allington's letter was addressed had been occupied, but for a very short time, by a widow lady and her brother. That a very lovely child was with them, but only for a single night before they finally left; and it was said she had neither father nor mother, but was about to be adopted by a rich relative. The child was brought from some country place to London. The lady's name was Allington, that of her brother, Henry Marsh.