im, as Mrs.
MacDougall had done when she was sick. It brought a great feeling of
peace to her mind. She would do anything they wished her, to be sure
that Duncan was safe. The only thing that troubled her now was whether
Mrs. Donaldson had spoken truly; for children are quick to find out who
may be trusted, and Elsie had no faith in either of these two people.

Elsie believed herself that Meg would take Duncan if it depended at all
upon her, for although her behaviour had been strange, Elsie could not
forget her kindness in the night, when there had been no one near.
Nothing would ever make Elsie think that it was not true and genuine. It
was, indeed, her faith in Meg's goodness that was her one consolation.
She clung to that much more than to all Mrs. Donaldson's statements.

Presently the train stopped. "Uncle William" came, and sat very close to
Elsie on one side, Mrs. Donaldson on the other, and each took one of her
hands with an appearance of great affection. Elsie sat perfectly still.
She had no intention of making any more disturbance. If Duncan's safety
depended on her being quiet, no mouse should be more quiet than she was.

Mrs. Donaldson seemed pleased. "I see you are a sensible little girl,"
she said. "Now, you must mind what I tell you. Remember, I shall not
tell you when I send the message, but directly you are troublesome it
will go. I may not tell you till the week is gone; but you may feel
quite sure that it will not be sent unless you disobey or are naughty.
Do you quite understand?"

Elsie replied that she did, and Mrs. Donaldson continued--

"Do not mention Duncan again, not even to me when I am quite alone. He
is always Donald."

"I will not forget," Elsie replied.

"And you will have no Uncle William when you get to London. This
gentleman is your Grandpapa Donaldson. Now, I have seen that you are
clever enough when you choose. Do not forget."

The train had again started on its way, and was rushing along at a
tremendous rate, being an express. Mrs. Donaldson had got Elsie's hand
in hers, and had kept the child's attention fixed upon herself. The
gentleman was now seated in another corner. When Elsie next turned her
head towards him, he had utterly changed. In the place of a dark-looking
man with a small moustache was an elderly gentleman, with a face quite
bare, except for some small grey whiskers and a bald head. He was
lounging back most unconcernedly in the carriage, looking through his