CHAPTER VI.

Hetty and her “Cousins”

One cool fresh evening in October Mrs. Rushton, Hetty, Grant the maid, and an old man-servant who followed his mistress everywhere, arrived at the railway-station near Wavertree, and were driven along the old familiar country road with the soft purpled woods on one side, and the green plains and distant view of the sea on the other.  They arrived at Amber Hill just as lights began to spring up in the long narrow windows of the comfortable old gray house, lights more near and bright than the stars burning dimly above the ancient cedar-trees in the avenue.

Hetty, dressed in a costly pelisse trimmed with fur, leaned forward, looking eagerly for the first glimpse of her new home.  The child had now only faint recollections of Wavertree, and of her life with Mrs. Kane in the village, and except for Grant’s ill-natured remarks from time to time she would have forgotten them altogether and imagined herself to be Mrs. Rushton’s niece, as that lady called her when speaking of her to strangers.  Hetty hated Grant, who always took a delight in lowering her pride, for by this time, it must be owned, pride had become Hetty’s besetting sin.

Mrs. Rushton had perceived Grant’s disposition to snub and annoy the child, and with her usual determination to uphold and justify her own conduct and disappoint those who disapproved of her views, she had put down the maid’s impertinence with a high hand, and had grown more and more careful of late to protect Hetty’s dignity before the servants.

“I hope Miss Gray’s room is as nice as I desired you to make it,” she said to the housekeeper who was welcoming her in the hall.  “I hope you have engaged a maid from the village to attend on her.  I require all Grant’s attentions now myself,” she added wearily, falling into a chair in a state of exhaustion.  “Hetty, my love, give me a kiss, and go and have a pretty frock put on for dinner.”

Polly, the new maid, had already unpacked the little girl’s trunks and was waiting in her room to dress her in white muslin and lace and arrange her soft dark curls in a charming wreath round her head.  Hetty’s room was an exquisite little nest draped in pale blue chintz covered with roses, and with fantastic little brackets here and there bearing pretty statuettes and baskets of flowers.  The housekeeper had not indeed neglected Mrs. Rushton’s instructions with regard to the decoration of this apartment.

“My, miss, but you have grown a fine tall girl!” said Polly admiringly; “and won’t Mrs. Kane be glad to see you again?  I suppose you will be going to see her to-morrow?”

“I am not sure,” said Hetty; “I don’t remember Mrs. Kane.”

“Don’t you, miss?  Then you ought to, I am sure, for it was she that took care of you before Mrs. Rushton had you.”

“Yes, I believe so,” said Hetty frowning, for she dreaded that Polly was going to make a practice of taunting her with being a foundling, just as Grant had always done.