“What kind lady are you?” asked Hetty boldly.

“I am a good fairy,” said Mrs. Rushton, “and when you are well I am going to carry you off to see my house.”

“Hetty has got a house,” said the little girl complacently.  “Have you got a house too?”

“A splendid large house, Hetty,” said Mrs. Kane. “You never saw such a house.”

“Is it bigger than the post-office?” said Hetty doubtingly.

“Bigger far.”

“Bigger than the forge?”

“Don’t be foolish, child, and stop your biggers,” said Mrs. Kane; “Mrs. Rushton’s house is the size of the church and more.”

Hetty winked with astonishment, and she lay silent for some time, till at last she said: 

“And do you sit in the pulpit?”

Mrs. Rushton laughed more than she was accustomed to laugh at Lady Harriet Beaton’s comic stories.  This child’s prattle was amusing to her.

“And do you have grave-stones growing round your door?” persisted Hetty.

“There, ma’am!” cried Mrs. Kane, “she’ll worry you with questions if you give her a bit of encouragement.  She’ll think of things that’ll put you wild for an answer, so she will.  John and I give her up.”

Mrs. Rushton was not at all inclined to give her up, however, for she kept coming day after day to visit the little patient.  Hetty became fond of her pleasant visitor, and watched eagerly for her arrival in the long afternoons when the flies buzzed so noisily in the small cottage window-panes, and the child found it hard to lie still and hear the voices of the village children shouting and laughing at their play in the distance.  As soon as Mrs. Rushton’s bright eyes were seen in the doorway, and her gay dress fluttering across the threshold, Hetty would stretch out her one little hand in welcome to the delightful visitor, and laugh to see all the pretty presents that were quickly strewn around her on the bed.  After spending an afternoon with the child, Mrs. Rushton often went on to Wavertree Hall and finished the evening there with her brother’s family.  Mr. and Mrs. Enderby were greatly astonished to find how completely their lively sister had interested herself in the village foundling.

“Take care you do not spoil her,” said Mr. Enderby.

Mrs. Rushton shrugged her shoulders.

“I can never please you,” she said.  “One would suppose I had found a harmless amusement this time at least, and yet you do not approve.”

“I do approve,” said her brother, “up to a certain point.  I only warn you not to go too far and make the child unhappy by over-petting her.  In a few weeks hence you will have forgotten her existence, and then the little thing will be disappointed.”

“But I have no intention of forgetting her in a few weeks,” said Mrs. Rushton indignantly.

“No; you have no intention—­” said Mr. Enderby.

“You certainly are a most unsympathetic person,” said Mrs. Rushton; and she went away feeling herself much ill-used, and firmly believing herself to be the only kind-hearted member of her family.