They started when they saw her as if she had been a ghost, and Mrs. Enderby exclaimed in a low voice: 

“The child!  I had quite forgotten her!”

“Yes, there will be trouble here,” muttered Mr. Enderby; while Hetty came forward, her face pale and stained with crying, her dress disordered, and her curly hair wild and disarranged.  She looked so altered that they scarcely knew her.

“How is she?  Oh, Mrs. Enderby, say she is better,” cried Hetty, swallowing a sob.

“My dear child,” said Mrs. Enderby, “how have you come to be forgotten here, have you not been in bed all night?”

“I stayed here,” said Hetty, “I wanted to know; will you not tell me how she is?”

“My child, she is well, I hope, though not as you would wish to see her.  It has pleased God to take her away from you.”

“Do you mean that she is dead?”

“Yes, my poor Hetty, I am grieved to tell you it is so.”

Hetty uttered a sharp cry and turned her back on her friends standing in the window.  The gesture was an unmistakable one, and touched the husband and wife.  It seemed to say so plainly that she expected nothing from them.

She retreated into the furthest corner of the room and flung herself on the floor, and Scamp, hanging his head and wagging his tail, followed her mournfully, and lay down as close to her as he could.

“Leave her alone awhile,” said Mr. Enderby, for his wife had made a movement as if she would follow her; “she is a strange child, and we will give her time to take in the fact of her loss.  You must not be hurried into making rash promises through pity; all this brings a great change to the girl, and it is better she should feel it from the first.”

The truth was Mrs. Rushton had been dead when her brother and sister-in-law arrived.  A sudden attack of fainting had resulted in death.  This abrupt termination of her illness was not quite unexpected by herself or her friends, as it was known she had disease of the heart, and the doctors had given warning that such might be her end.  However, she herself had not liked to look this probability in the face, and had preferred to dwell on the faint hope held out to her that she might linger on as an invalid for many a year.

CHAPTER IX.

What to do with her?

After Mrs. Rushton had been laid to rest in her grave her worldly affairs had to be looked into.  She had died possessed of a great deal of property, and her relations were well aware that she had never made a will.  Her brother had lately urged her to make a will, but she had always put off the unpleasant task.  Now there was nothing to be done but to divide the property among the relatives to whom it reverted by law.

After the funeral her late husband’s relations and Mr. Enderby met at Amber Hill and discussed these matters of business.