Her husband sighed, and went out of the chamber. There had been a previous arrangement that Dorothy should be brought to the house on a visit that day, but instead of taking her up to his wife, he did not inform Lady Mottisfont of the child's presence. He entertained her himself as well as he could, and accompanied her into the park, where they had a ramble together. Presently he sat down on the root of an elm and took her upon his knee. 'Between this husband and this baby, little Dorothy, you who had two homes are left out in the cold,' he said. 'Can't I go to London with my pretty mamma?' said Dorothy, perceiving from his manner that there was a hitch somewhere. 'I am afraid not, my child. She only took you to live with her because she was lonely, you know.' 'Then can't I stay at Deansleigh Park with my other mamma and you?' 'I am afraid that cannot be done either,' said he sadly. 'We have a baby in the house now.' He closed the reply by stooping down and kissing her, there being a tear in his eye. 'Then nobody wants me!' said Dorothy pathetically. 'Oh yes, somebody wants you,' he assured her. 'Where would you like to live besides?' Dorothy's experiences being rather limited, she mentioned the only other place in the world that she was acquainted with, the cottage of the villager who had taken care of her before Lady Mottisfont had removed her to the Manor House. 'Yes; that's where you'll be best off and most independent,' he answered. 'And I'll come to see you, my dear girl, and bring you pretty things; and perhaps you'll be just as happy there.'