CHAPTER I. BRETTON.

despatchedtomeetthecoachbywhichourlittlevisitorwasexpected.Mrs.BrettonandIsataloneinthedrawing-roomwaitinghercomingJohnGrahamBrettonbeingabsentonavisittooneofhisschoolfellowswholivedinthecountry.MygodmotherreadtheeveningpaperwhileshewaitedIsewed.Itwasawetnighttherainlashedthepanes,andthewindsoundedangryandrestless. “Poorchild!”saidMrs.Brettonfromtimetotime.“Whatweatherforherjourney!Iwishsheweresafehere.” Alittlebeforetenthedoor-bellannouncedWarren’sreturn.NosoonerwasthedooropenedthanIrandownintothehalltherelayatrunkandsomeband-boxes,besidethemstoodapersonlikeanurse-girl,andatthefootofthestaircasewasWarrenwithashawledbundleinhisarms. “Isthatthechild?”Iasked. “Yes,miss.” Iwouldhaveopenedtheshawl,andtriedtogetapeepattheface,butitwashastilyturnedfrommetoWarren’sshoulder. “Putmedown,please,”saidasmallvoicewhenWarrenopenedthedrawing-roomdoor,“andtakeoffthisshawl,”continuedthespeaker,extractingwithitsminutehandthepin,andwithasortoffastidioushastedoffingtheclumsywrapping.Thecreaturewhichnowappearedmadeadeftattempttofoldtheshawlbutthedraperywasmuchtooheavyandlargetobesustainedorwieldedbythosehandsandarms.“GiveittoHarriet,please,”wasthenthedirection,“andshecanputitaway.”Thissaid,itturnedandfixeditseyesonMrs.Bretton. “Comehere,littledear,”saidthatlady.“Comeandletmeseeifyouarecoldanddamp:comeandletmewarmyouatthefire.” Thechildadvancedpromptly.Relievedofherwrapping,sheappearedexceedinglytinybutwasaneat,completely-fashionedlittlefigure,light,slight,andstraight.Seatedonmygodmother’samplelap,shelookedameredollherneck,delicateaswax,herheadofsilkycurls,increased,Ithought,theresemblance. Mrs.Brettontalkedinlittlefondphrasesasshechafedthechild’shands,arms,andfeetfirstshewasconsideredwithawistfulgaze,butsoonasmileansweredher.Mrs.Brettonwasnotgenerallyacaressingwoman:evenwithherdeeply-cherishedson,hermannerwasrarelysentimental,oftenthereversebutwhenthesmallstrangersmiledather,shekissedit,asking,“Whatismylittleone’sname?” “Missy.” “ButbesidesMissy?” “Polly,papacallsher.” “WillPollybecontenttolivewithme?” “Notalwaysbuttillpapacomeshome.Papaisgoneaway.”Sheshookherheadexpressively. “HewillreturntoPolly,orsendforher.” “Willhe,ma’am?Doyouknowhewill?” “Ithinkso.” “ButHarrietthinksnot:atleastnotforalongwhile.Heisill.” Hereyesfilled.ShedrewherhandfromMrs.Bretton’sandmadeamovementtoleaveherlapitwasatfir