“If you don’t object, Miss Williams, we will go to Rachel’s asylum on our way home.”

Miss Williams asked if she had made the appointment.

“No,” said Lady Temple, “but you see I can’t be satisfied about those woodcuts; and that poor woman, Mrs. Kelland, came to me yesterday about my lace shawl, and she is sadly distressed about the little girl.  She was not allowed to see her, you know, and she heard such odd things about the place that I told her that I did not wonder she was in trouble, and that I would try to bring the child home, or at any rate see and talk to her.”

“I hope we may be able to see her, but you know Colonel Keith could not get in without making an appointment.”

“I pay for her,” said Lady Temple, “and I cannot bear its going on in this way without some one seeing about it.  The Colonel was quite sure those woodcuts were mere fabrications to deceive Rachel; and there must be something very wrong about those people.”

“Did she know that you were going?”

“No; I did not see her before we went.  I do not think she will mind it much; and I promised.”  Lady Temple faltered a little, but gathered courage the next moment.  “And indeed, after what Mrs. Kelland said, I could not sleep while I thought I had been the means of putting any poor child into such hands.”

“Yes,” said Alison, “it is very shocking to leave them there without inquiry, and it is an excellent thing to make the attempt.”

And so the order was given to drive to the asylum, Alison marvelling at the courage which prompted this most unexpected assault upon the fortress that had repulsed two such warriors as Colonel Keith and Mrs. Kelland.  But timid and tender as she might be, it was not for nothing that Fanny Temple had been a vice-queen, so much accustomed to be welcomed wherever she penetrated, that the notion of a rebuff never suggested itself.

Coombe rang, and his lady made him let herself and Miss Williams out, so that she was on the step when the rough charwoman opened the door, and made the usual reply that Mr. Mauleverer was not within.  Lady Temple answered that it was Mrs. Rawlins, the matron, that she wished to see, and with more audacity than Alison thought her capable of, inserted herself within the doorway, so as to prevent herself from being shut out as the girl took her message.  The next moment the girl came back saying, “This way, ma’am,” opened the door of a small dreary, dusty, cold parlour, where she shut them in, and disappeared before a word could be said.

There they remained so long, that in spite of such encouragement as could be derived from peeping over the blinds at Coombe standing sentinel over his two young masters at the carriage window, Lady Temple began to feel some dismay, though no repentance, and with anxious iteration conjured Miss Williams to guess what could be the cause of delay.

“Making ready for our reception,” was Alison’s answer in various forms; and Lady Temple repeated by turns, “I do not like it,” and “it is very unsatisfactory.  No, I don’t like it at all,” the at all always growing more emphatic.