“It is the merest chance,” Mrs. Graham observed. “This lady in Yorkshire may have received the name and references. I earnestly trust she has.” “If not, we must consider what to do with her,” said Lady Coningham. “I would give everything I possess to be able to carry her home with me; but”--she sighed a little--“that is out of the question.” “You have children?” inquired Mrs. Graham, gently, attracted by the other’s sweet expression. “No,” Lady Coningham answered, slowly. “I had one once, but--but it is gone.” She bent to kiss Mardie’s soft little cheek as she spoke, and again tears welled into her eyes. “I am glad you have come,” said Mrs. Graham, after a pause, “for it would have gone to my heart to leave the child without some kind hand to minister to it occasionally. I must go North to-morrow; but I feel now that, should the worst happen and we find no clue, you will care for this poor little flower.” “I will do all in my power for her,” returned the younger woman; “but do not let me keep you from your dinner--indeed, you must want it.” Mrs. Graham rose and seated herself at the table. She felt weak and faint, but eating was almost an impossibility. Mardie, her food finished, put her hands together and whispered a grace, then wriggled down from her chair and went to the fire. “She must go to bed,” said Mrs. Graham, rising again and ringing the bell; “she is growing tired now.” The words were quickly verified, for the little head suddenly began to droop, and the beautiful eyes to grow misty and sleepy; but, as Lady Coningham, who had hurriedly removed her gloves, knelt and began to unbutton her frock, the little child pushed her away and looked round with a sudden quick feeling of fear and strangeness. “Where’s Mardie’s mammie--where a mammie?” she murmured. “Mammie is asleep,” said Mrs. Graham, soothingly, dreading a fit of terror. “Mammie seep? Mardie want a mammie. Mammie come a Mardie, come a Mardie!” She ran to the door of the room and tried to reach the handle. Lady Coningham picked her up. “If Mardie will be a very good little girl, she shall have some goodies--such pretty goodies. See, here comes Mardie’s bath! She is going to be such a clean little girl.” Mardie sat still, but her small hands were clasped together, and her little chest heaved with sobs. Then, as the bath was put before the fire, and, looking from one to the other, she could see nowhere the sweet, tender face that had smiled on her every day of her young recollection, she burst into a tempest of tears, and, struggling from Lady Coningham’s hold, ran wildly round the room in a paroxysm of fear, calling for her “mammie.”