It was strange how many reminiscences were brought to mind by this circumstance of girls who had disappeared years before and were supposed to be dead—­or worse.  And this woman might be one of them; indeed, Peterkin had said that she was, and they came in crowds to see her, and to see, as well, the inside of the handsome house, of which they had heard so much, especially since Mr. Arthur’s return.  But in this they were disappointed, for all the front rooms were locked against them, and only the large dining-room, the breakfast-room, the servants’ hall, and the little back office were thrown open to the public.  In the first of these the corpse was lying in a substantial, handsome coffin, for Frank, who ordered it, would have no other; and when the undertaker suggested a cheaper one would answer just as well, had said, decidedly: 

’I mean to bury her decently.  Give me this one, and send the bill to me, not to Arthur.’

It was his funeral, and, judging from his face, he was burying all his friends, instead of a poor, unknown woman, whose large, coarse features and plain woollen dress looked out of place in that handsome black coffin, with its silver-plated trimmings.  Frank had suggested that she should have a white merino shroud, but his wife had overruled him.  It was not her funeral, and she had no interest in it, except that it should be over as soon as possible, and the house cleansed from the atmosphere of death.  So when her husband asked if the child ought not to have a mourning-dress, she scoffed at him for the suggestion saying she did not like to see children in black anyway, and even if she died herself she should not wish hers to wear it.

‘I cannot imagine,’ she continued, ’why you have taken so unaccountable a fancy to and interest in these people, especially the child.  One would think she belonged to royalty, the fuss you make over her.  What are we to do with her to-night?  Where is she to sleep?’

‘In the nursery,’ was his reply; and he saw his wishes carried out and ordered in a crib, which used to be Jack’s, and bade the nurse see that she was comfortable.

So Jerry was put to bed in the nursery and slept very quietly until about, ten o’clock when she awoke and cried piteously for both ‘Man-nee’ and ‘Ha-roll.’  Frank, who was sitting alone in the library, heard the cry, and knew it was not Maude’s.  Had it been he would not have minded it, for he knew that she would be cared for without his interference.  But something in the crying of this little foreign girl stirred him strangely, and after listening to it a few moments he arose, and going softly to the door of the nursery, stood listening until a sharp hush from the nurse girl decided him to enter, and going to the crib he bent over the sobbing child and tried to comfort her.  She could not understand him, but the tone of his voice was kind, and when he put his hand on her hot head she took it in hers and held it fast, as if she recognized in him a friend.  And Frank as he felt the clasp of the soft, warm fingers, and saw the confiding look in the wide-open eyes, grew faint and cold, and asked himself again, as he had many times that day, if he could do it.