Then Hetty saw Mr.and Mrs.Enderby standing in earnest conversation at the window.
They started when they saw her as if she had been a ghost, and Mrs.
Enderby exclaimed in a low voice: "The child! I had quite forgotten her!" "Yes, there will be trouble here," muttered Mr.Enderby; while Hetty came forward, her face pale and stained with crying, her dress disordered, and her curly hair wild and disarranged.

She looked so altered that they scarcely knew her.
"How is she?
Oh, Mrs.Enderby, say she is better," cried Hetty, swallowing a sob.
"My dear child," said Mrs.Enderby, "how have you come to be forgotten here, have you not been in bed all night ?" "I stayed here," said Hetty, "I wanted to know; will you not tell me how she is ?" "My child, she is well, I hope, though not as you would wish to see her.
It has pleased God to take her away from you." "Do you mean that she is dead ?" "Yes, my poor Hetty, I am grieved to tell you it is so." Hetty uttered a sharp cry and turned her back on her friends standing in the window.

The gesture was an unmistakable one, and touched the husband and wife.

It seemed to say so plainly that she expected nothing from them.
She retreated into the furthest corner of the room and flung herself on the floor, and Scamp, hanging his head and wagging his tail, followed her mournfully, and lay down as close to her as he could.
"Leave her alone awhile," said Mr.Enderby, for his wife had made a movement as if she would follow her; "she is a strange child, and we will give her time to take in the fact of her loss.

You must not be hurried into making rash promises through pity; all this brings a great change to the girl, and it is better she should feel it from the first." The truth was Mrs.Rushton had been dead when her brother and sister-in-law arrived.