But as time went on her sweet temper and quiet, gentle demeanor insensibly won upon them, while they were surprised at her scholarship, so superior in some respects to their own that even Alice stooped more than once to ask information from her. Whatever Gertie undertook she did thoroughly, but her great success as a scholar was owing in part to the interest Robert Macpherson had evinced in her studies ever since he became an occupant of the cottage. He was away now on the Western prairies sketching the scenery there, and so Gertie was thrown upon her own resources; but she was equal to the emergency, and studied early and late to overtake and surpass, if possible, the young ladies who looked upon her so contemptuously. But for any coldness on their part she more than had amends in the extreme kindness with which Edith invariably treated her; while the baby, who was called James for the colonel’s father, was a constant source of delight. Jamie was a beautiful child, with a mass of dark brown curls, and eyes like his father’s; and even Julia, who had from the first been opposed to his birth, and treated her step-mother with great coolness on account of it, softened toward him, and wrote to Miss Rossiter, who was now in New York, that “he really was a fine child, and that all things considered, she was quite reconciled to his birth, though she felt for Godfrey, who was no longer the only son.” The baby was a success, and no one seemed to love it more than Gertie Westbrooke. She was passionately fond of children, and devoted herself so much to Jamie that he soon learned to know her, and would cry when she left his sight. And so it came about that she was much with Edith, who each day grew more and more interested in her, and more resolved to care for and befriend her in every possible way. CHAPTER XXXIV. MARY ROGERS. It was a cold wintry night, and a February rain was beating against the windows of the house on the Hill, when Edith was roused from sleep by Norah, who said: “If you please, Mrs. Schuyler, Gertie Westbrooke has come all alone from the cottage in the rain and dark, and says my cousin is dying and wants to see _you_. She’s very bad, and talking such queer things.” Scarcely knowing what she was doing, Edith arose and began to dress, while the colonel followed more leisurely, feeling annoyed at Mary Rogers for being sick on such a night as this, and sending for his wife, thereby putting him to great discomfort and inconvenience, for if Edith went to the cottage he of course must go also. And in a short time they were in their carriage and driving rapidly down the road toward the house, where Gertie was anxiously expecting them.