“It seems to me so,” said Mrs. Enderby, “especially taken with the dates and the likeness to your family.  When your mother’s portrait comes——­”

“I must send for the little baby-garments too,” said Reine; “but oh, why need we wait for anything more?  May I not run to my sister, Mrs. Enderby?”

“Calm yourself, my dear Reine, and be persuaded to take my advice.  We must consult a lawyer and get information as to the wrecking of the vessel, and the place where the shipwreck occurred.  It will then be seen whether it was possible for a child lost on the occasion to have lived to be washed in upon this shore.”

“Possible or not, it happened!” cried Reine.  “Oh, Mrs. Enderby, unless you can make me sleep through the interval I shall never have patience to wait.”

The portrait of Reine’s mother taken at fifteen years of age and the packet of tiny embroidered chemises arrived the next morning from London.  The former looked exactly like a picture of Hetty; the latter was the counterpart of the baby-garment produced by Mrs. Enderby from a drawer of her own.  Mr. Enderby was then consulted, and admitted that the case seemed established in Hetty’s favour.  However, prudent like his wife, he insisted that nothing should be said to Hetty till lawyers had been consulted, and information about the wreck of the vessel obtained.

In the meantime Reine was abruptly sent home to London.

“She will make herself ill if she is allowed to stay in the house with Hetty, and obliged to be silent towards her as to her discovery,” said Mr. Enderby.  “When the chain of evidence is complete, we can think of what to do.”

So Mr. Enderby himself carried off Reine to London that very night.

“It will be necessary to come, my dear,” he said, “and make inquiries at once.  You will thus arrive more quickly at your end.  Now just run into the school-room for a minute and say good-bye to Hetty.  But if you love her, say nothing to disturb the child’s peace.”

It cost Reine a great struggle to obey these sudden orders; but she saw their drift, and was wise enough not to oppose them.  In her travelling dress she appeared in the school-room, where Hetty, all unconscious of the wonderful change for her that was hanging in the balance of Fate, sat at work as usual with Miss Davis.

“I have come to say good-bye,” said Reine; “I am called off to London in a hurry.  But you must not forget me.  We shall surely meet again.”

Hetty’s heart sank with bitter disappointment She had been living in a sort of dream since yesterday, a dream of happiness at being so suddenly and unexpectedly loved by this sweet girl who had risen up like an angel in her path.  The hope of seeing her again and enjoying her friendship had kept a glow of joy within her, which now went out and left darkness in its place.  She strove to keep her face from showing how deeply she felt what seemed like caprice in Reine.