“Well, to tell you the truth, I did not mean that quite,” said Mrs. Rushton; “but now that you suggest it—­”

“I suggest it!” cried Mr. Enderby.

“How horrified you look!  But all the same you have suggested it, and I think it is a capital idea.”

“Do not come to any hasty conclusion, I implore you, Amy.  Think over it well.  Consider the child’s interests more than your own momentary self-indulgence!”

Mrs. Rushton coloured with displeasure.

“I see you are determined to be as disagreeable as usual,” she said angrily.  “As if the monkey could fail to be benefited by my patronage!  Pray, will she not be better in my drawing-room than getting under horses’ feet about the Wavertree roads, or losing herself in the Wavertree woods?”

“Frankly, I think not,” said Mr. Enderby stiffly.

Mrs. Rushton’s eyes flashed, and she did her brother the injustice of thinking that he feared her adoption of little Hetty would in some way interfere with the worldly interests of his own children.  She was not accustomed to seek far for other people’s meanings and motives, and generally seized on the first which presented itself to her mind.  She knew that she only wanted to amuse herself, and had no intention of wronging her nieces and nephew by playing with this charming babe.  Why, then, should William take such fancies in his head?  In this flash of temper she instantly decided on keeping little Hetty always with her.  Was there any reason in the world why she should not do just as she pleased?  Hetty should certainly stay with her and be as her own child from this day forth.

“What have you to say about my adopting little Hetty?” she said, turning to her sister-in-law with a slightly defiant and wholly triumphant smile.

“I shall say nothing,” said Mrs. Enderby, “until I see how you treat her.  I trust it may turn out for the best.”

Thus, all in a moment, and merely because Mrs. Rushton would not be contradicted, was little Hetty’s future in this world decided.  Before her brother had spoken, the lady of Amber Hill had had no intention of keeping Hetty for more than a week in her house.  And now she felt bound (by the laws of human perversity) to take her and bring her up as her own child.

In the meantime Mrs. Enderby’s three children and Hetty Gray were standing by, gazing at one another.  The little Enderbys, Mark, Phyllis, and Nell, had taken in the whole conversation, and understood perfectly, with the quick perception of children, the strangeness of the situation, and their own peculiar position with regard to Mrs. Kane’s little girl from Wavertree.

The little Enderbys were thinking how very odd it was that the little girl whom they had often seen, as they walked with their nurse or drove past in the carriage with their mother, playing on the roads in a soiled pinafore, should be now presented to them as a new cousin.  Phyllis, the eldest, was much displeased, for pride was her ruling fault.  Mark and Nell were charmed with the transformation in Hetty and very much disposed to accept her as a playfellow, though they remembered all the time that she was not their equal.