She could not help starting when the door opened, thinking to see him; but it was Mrs. Dobson, the housekeeper, who now came in. Nell had by no means forgotten Mrs. Dobson, and she scrutinized her a little anxiously. Would the housekeeper recognize her? Would there be anything in her manner to betray a knowledge of their having ever met before?
Mrs. Dobson, having shut the door, came forward a little way, crossed her hands in front of her, and made Miss Baynard a respectful curtsey. Then their eyes met, and Nell read nothing in those of the other which she might not have read in the eyes of any stranger. Undisguised admiration they betrayed of a surety, but to that our young lady was so used that she thought nothing of it.
"Madam," began the housekeeper, with the tone and manner of a well-bred dependent, "my master desires me to say that in another room there is a very charming little picture, a view of which he feels sure would please you vastly. If you will be good enough to accompany me I will conduct you to it."
Miss Baynard stared at the housekeeper with wide-set eyes. "A picture!" she said. "Surely Mr. Ellerslie has not asked me to Rockmount merely to show me a picture!"
"That is more than I can say, miss. My business is simply to repeat my master's message. But I feel quite sure that if you knew what the picture is, you would never forgive yourself for having refused to see it. Do come, miss," she added next moment, seeing that Miss Baynard still hesitated.
"Very well, I will go with you," said Nell.
Mrs. Dobson led the way through the gloomy old house to a bedroom on the first floor, but not the one occupied by Miss Baynard on the occasion of her first visit to Rockmount, although differing very little from it in its furniture and appointments, except in one particular. In the middle of the floor stood a couch, to which Nell's eyes travelled instinctively the moment she entered the room. It had been made up temporarily with pillows and coverlets, so as to form a child's bed. A solitary wax candle was alight on the chimney-piece.
A low, inarticulate cry broke from Nell. Brushing past the housekeeper, she went swiftly forward and bent over the couch. The truth had flashed across her as she set foot over the threshold, and now her eyes verified it. There, in rosy slumber, his cheek pillowed on one hand, the other arm flung with graceful abandon outside the coverlet, lay the missing child. This was the picture Mr. Ellerslie had invited her to come and see!
Tears rushed to her eyes and overbrimmed them; a sob broke in her throat. Not for a full minute, for fear of waking him, did she venture to stoop and touch the peach-bloom of his cheek with her lips. Her heart was full, and not till a few more moments had gone by would she trust herself to speak. The housekeeper was at her elbow.
"Who brought him, and how long has he been here?" she asked.