In the meantime, as Hetty surmised, her fate was being decided upstairs.  No provision had been made by Mrs. Rushton for the child whom she had taken into her home, petted and indulged, and accustomed to every luxury.  The relations of Mrs. Rushton’s late husband, who lived at a great distance and had not been on intimate terms with her, were not much impressed by the lady’s carelessness of Hetty.  But Mr. Enderby, who knew all the circumstances, felt that a wrong had been done.

“Some provision ought to be made for the child,” he said; “that is a matter about which there can be no doubt.”

“Certainly,” said Mr. Rushton, who had inherited most of his sister-in-law’s property.  “There are cheap schools where girls in her position can be educated according to their station.  Afterwards we can see about giving her a trade, millinery and dressmaking, I suppose, or something of that kind.”

Mr. Enderby looked troubled.  “I do not think that would be quite fair,” he said, “I would urge that she should receive a good education.  She ought to be brought up a lady, having been so long accustomed to expect it.”

“I quite disagree with you,” said Mr. Rushton; “there are too many idle ladies in the world.  And who is to support her when she is grown up?”

“I do not wish to make her an idle lady,” said Mr. Enderby, “but I would fit her to be a governess.”

“There are too many governesses; better keep her down to a lower level and teach her to be content to be a tradeswoman.  As far as I am concerned, I will consent to nothing better than this for the girl.”

“Then we need not speak of it any more,” returned Mr. Enderby.  “I will take the responsibility of the child upon myself.”

Mr. Rushton shrugged his shoulders.  “Do as you please,” he said, “but remember it is your own choice.  If you change your mind, call upon me.”

So the matter ended.  When the library door opened, and the gentlemen were heard preparing to depart, Hetty flew upstairs and stole into the hall, where Mr. Enderby, who was the last to go, suddenly saw her little white face gazing at him with a dumb anxiety.

“Well, my dear,” he said kindly, “how are you getting on?”

“Oh sir, will you please tell me where I am to go to?” implored Hetty.

“Don’t fret yourself about that,” said Mr. Enderby, buttoning up his coat.  “We are not going to let you be lost.  You just stay patiently with Mrs. Benson till you hear again from me.”

And then he nodded to her and took his departure.

That evening he had a serious conversation with his wife about Hetty Gray.

“I have made up my mind it will be better to bring her here,” he said abruptly.

“My dear! is that wise?” exclaimed his wife, thinking with sudden anxiety of Phyllis’s great dislike to Hetty, and Hetty’s uncompromising pride.

“It is the best plan I can think of, but do not mistake me.  If Hetty comes here it will be expressly understood by her and others that she is not to be brought up as my own daughter.  She will merely enjoy the security of the shelter of our roof, and will receive a good education such as will fit her to provide, later, for herself.”