“What a pretty little thing it is; see how it holds my finger.  I think it will love me, mother, though it is not my real sister.  Oh! do make father keep it, will you?”

For the first time since Mrs. Shelley had had the baby, she now hesitated about keeping it; the boy had unconsciously struck a wrong chord, and his mother, with a prophetic instinct, coupled with a quick imagination, for a moment saw that it was possible this little stranger who, as Jack had already grasped, was not his real sister, might, in future years, destroy the harmony and peace of the home circle.  But it was only a momentary hesitation; the thought flashed across her mind and vanished again, almost as quickly as it had come.  Could she have known how true that prophetic instinct was, would she not have gone counter to all her own inclinations, and disregarded all Jack’s wishes and prayers, rather than have run the risk of introducing strife into her peaceful household?  As it was, the motherly pity she felt for the baby was stronger at the moment than the foreboding light which had flashed across the distant future, and she answered hurriedly—­

“I must go and see Mr. Leslie first, dear, and hear what he says; do you think you could take care of Charlie while I am gone with the baby?  I shall take Willie with me, or he will be getting into mischief.”

Jack, proud to be of use to his mother, professed his ability to look after Charlie, privately regretting it was not the beautiful strange fairies’ baby which was to be left under his charge.

“Jack, I can’t be back before the clock has struck twelve; it is now half-past ten, so it will strike twice before I come back, do you understand; and both the hands will have to be on the twelve at the top, do you see?  So now, if it seems a long time, do not be frightened, I shall be back soon after twelve.  If baby cries, rock the cradle, but don’t try to take him out; if he sleeps you may wash the potatoes for dinner.  Now, good-bye,” and Mrs. Shelley, with the infant in her arms and Willie running by her side, set off to the Rectory, while Jack stood at the door watching her out of sight.

The first half-hour passed quickly enough.  The baby slept, and Jack washed the potatoes, and was delighted when the clock struck eleven.  But the next hour was interminably long, and little Jack got very tired of rocking Charlie, who was awake now, and would scream every time his brother stopped rocking.  Every few minutes Jack ran to the door to see if his mother was coming, and then ran back and rocked violently at the cradle.  At last he thought he heard footsteps, and, running to look, saw, not his mother, but Dame Hursey, making her way towards the house.

Now, Jack did not care about Dame Hursey’s visits even when his mother was at home.  He was half afraid of the witch-like old woman, and to have a visit from her while he was alone was the last thing he desired, so he came in quickly and banged the door, hoping she would think they were all out and go away, if only he could keep Charlie quiet.  But Dame Hursey had seen and heard the door shut, and so, after knocking two or three times without any result, she quietly lifted the latch and walked in, while Jack, who was kneeling by the cradle, looked up, half defiantly, half frightened.