“My wife is quite right,” said the cooper; “we must insist upon your stopping with us.”

The nurse hesitated, and looked irresolute.  It was plain she would have preferred to be elsewhere, but a remark which Mrs. Crump made, decided her to accept the invitation.

It was this.  “You know, Mrs. Hardwick, if Ida is to go with you, she ought to have a little chance to get acquainted with you before you go.”

“I will accept your kind invitation,” she said; “but I am afraid I shall be in your way.”

“Not in the least.  It will be a pleasure to us to have you here.  If you will excuse me now, I will go out and attend to my dinner, which I am afraid is getting behindhand.”

Left to herself, the nurse behaved in a manner which might be regarded as singular.  She rose from her seat, and approached the mirror.  She took a full survey of herself as she stood there, and laughed a short, hard laugh.

Then she made a formal courtesy to her own reflection, saying, “How do you do, Mrs. Hardwick?”

“Did you speak?” asked the cooper, who was passing through the entry on his way out.

“No,” said the nurse, a little awkwardly.  “I believe I said something to myself.  It’s of no consequence.”

“Somehow,” thought the cooper, “I don’t fancy the woman’s looks, but I dare say I am prejudiced.  We’re all of us as God made us.”

While Mrs. Crump was making preparations for the noon-day meal, she imparted to Rachel the astonishing information, which has already been detailed to the reader.

“I don’t believe a word of it,” said Rachel, resolutely.

“She’s an imposter.  I knew she was the very first moment I set eyes on her.”

This remark was so characteristic of Rachel, that Mrs. Crump did not attach any special importance to it.  Rachel, of course, had no grounds for the opinion she so confidently expressed.  It was consistent, however, with her general estimate of human nature.

“What object could she have in inventing such a story?”

“What object?  Hundreds of ’em,” said Rachel, rather indefinitely.  “Mark my words, if you let her carry off Ida, it’ll be the last you’ll ever see of her.”

“Try to look on the bright side, Rachel.  Nothing is more natural than that her mother should want to see her.”

“Why couldn’t she come herself?” muttered Rachel.

“The letter explains.”

“I don’t see that it does.”

“It says that the same reasons exist for concealment as ever.”

“And what are they, I should like to know?  I don’t like mysteries, for my part.”

“We won’t quarrel with them, at any rate, since they enable us to keep Ida with us.”

Aunt Rachel shook her head, as if she were far from satisfied.

“I don’t know,” said Mrs. Crump, “but I ought to invite Mrs. Hardwick in here.  I have left her alone in the front room.”