ed to her of them in such a way as to lead her to regard
them in this light. Occasionally a strange little laugh or a few
sarcastic words from Mrs. Rushton had grated on the child's ear in the
midst of her foster-mother's pleasantly expressed anticipations of
Hetty's future intercourse with her own relations; and the little girl
had, on such occasions, felt a chill of vague fear, and a momentary pang
of anxiety as to the reception she might possibly meet with from these
people, none of whom had ever been found by a poor labouring man alone
on a wild sea-shore, or had lived with a humble woman in a cottage. That
the "disgrace" of such a past clung round herself, Grant's disagreeable
eyes would never allow her to forget. Such were poor Hetty's disordered
ideas with regard to herself and her little world, when Mrs. Rushton's
carriage drew up that day before the door of Wavertree Hall.

Mrs. Enderby was seated at her embroidery in the drawing-room beside her
small elegant tea-table, and looked the very ideal of an English
gentlewoman in her silver-gray silk and delicate lace ruffles, and with
her fair, almost colourless hair twisted in neat shining braids round
the back of her head. With her own faint sweet smile she welcomed her
sister-in-law and inquired kindly for her health; and then she turned to
Hetty, who stood gazing steadily in her face, utterly unconscious of her
own look of anxious inquiry.

Mrs. Rushton had taken pains to make the most of Hetty's uncommon beauty
on this occasion, determined to take her friends by surprise and force
them into an acknowledgment of the superiority of her own taste in
adopting such a child. Hetty was dressed in a dark crimson velvet frock,
trimmed with rich old yellow lace, which enhanced the warmth and
richness of her complexion, and gave a reflected glow to her dark and
deep-fringed eyes. A crop of crisp short curls of a dusky chestnut
colour was discovered when her hat was removed. No ungenerous prejudice
prevented Mrs. Enderby from acknowledging at the first glance that Hetty
had a most charming countenance.

"And this is Hetty! how she has grown!" said Mrs. Enderby, taking the
child's little hand between her own and looking at her in a friendly
manner. With a swift pain, however, Hetty remarked that she did not kiss
her; but she was not aware that Mrs. Enderby, though a kind, was not a
demonstrative woman, and that kisses were rarely bestowed by her on
anyone. If Hetty had pu