"There's our house. There's where mamma lives."
Mrs. Graham met them at the door. Not having heard of the little girl's loss, she was surprised to see her returning in the care of a stranger.
"Mrs. Graham," said Mrs. Kenyon, "I am glad to be the means of restoring your little girl to you."
"But where is Susan--where is the nurse?" asked Mrs. Graham, bewildered.
"I found the little girl crying," continued Mrs. Kenyon, "and fortunately learned where you were staying. She was very anxious to find her mamma."
"I am very much indebted to you," said Mrs. Graham warmly. "Let me know who has been so kind to my little girl."
"My name is Conrad, and I am boarding at the hotel," answered Mrs. Kenyon.
She had resumed the name of her first husband, not being willing to acknowledge the tie that bound her to a man that she had reason to detest.
Mrs. Graham pressed her so strongly to enter the house that she at length yielded. In truth she was longing for human sympathy and companionship. Always fond of children, the little girl attracted her, and for her sake she wished to make acquaintance with the mother.
This was the beginning of friendship between them. Afterward Mrs. Kenyon, or Conrad, as we may now call her, called, and, assuming the nurse's place, took Florette to walk. She exerted herself to amuse the child, and was repaid by her attachment.
"I wish you'd come and be my nurse," she said one day.
"I hope you will excuse Florette," said Mrs. Graham apologetically. "She is attached to you, and is too young to know of social distinctions."
"I am very much pleased to think that she cares for me," said Mrs. Conrad, looking the pleasure she felt. "Do you really like me, then, Florette?"
The answer was a caress, which was very grateful to the lonely woman.
"It does me good," she said to Mrs. Graham. "I am quite alone in the world, and treasure more than you can imagine your little girl's affection."
"I am sure she has suffered," thought Mrs. Graham, who was of a kindly, sympathetic nature. "How unhappy I should be if I, too, were alone in the world!"
Mr. Graham was a merchant in Chicago, where business detained him and prevented his joining his wife. She was only to stay a few weeks, and the time had nearly expired when little Florette was taken sick with a contagious disease. The mercenary nurse fled. Mrs. Graham's relations, also concerned for their safety, left the sorrow-stricken mother alone in the house, going to a neighboring town to remain till the danger was over. Human nature was unlovely in some of its phases, as Mrs. Graham was to find out.