“That seems an excellent plan,” agreed the elder woman--“at all events, for a time; but we must leave no stone unturned to find her relations.” “Will Sir Hubert like the arrangement, your ladyship?” asked Dr. Scott, as he rose to depart. Lady Coningham’s face flushed slightly. “I will make it all right,” she replied, though with a little constraint. “Fortunately, Morris is a favorite with him. But now I must go; it is very late, and I have a long ride. Lest we should not meet again before you start, Mrs. Graham, let me say now how pleased I am to have made your acquaintance, though the introduction has been a sad one. I will let you know early in the morning, Dr. Scott, if I have succeeded; and may I ask you to send the child over?” The doctor bowed, and opened the door. “I will come down and assist you to mount. Your groom is with you, I trust?” “Oh, yes!” Lady Coningham smiled another farewell to Mrs. Graham, and was passing out, when a thought struck her. “Suppose,” she said hurriedly, “suppose I cannot do this, what will become of the child?” “She must go to the workhouse,” replied Dr. Scott, gloomily; “my hands are too full already, as your ladyship knows, and there is no other alternative.” Lady Coningham could not repress a shudder. “That must never be,” she said decidedly. “I must arrange with Morris. Many thanks. Good-by!” Mrs. Graham rose early the next morning. Her sleep had been troubled and restless; but the child had never moved, and still slept on placidly as she dressed herself quietly. Dr. Scott was announced about half past eight, and his face showed that he had gained no further information. “The post office can give me no clew,” he said. “They recollect the woman ‘M.,’ and describe her accurately; but she received no letters save three addressed to her initial; consequently we are just where we were. Lady Coningham has sent her groom to say that Mrs. Morris will receive the child, so when she is dressed I had better take her over there myself.” Mrs. Graham assented with a sigh, and then rang for the maid to assist her in preparing Margery for the journey. The little one was very good; she submitted to her bath in brightness, and only now and then would turn her head to look for her mother. Already she seemed to know Mrs. Graham, and raised her lips many times to be kissed, her childish affection sending a pang of pain through the woman’s heart. At last all was ready; the little gray coat well brushed and repaired, was donned, a silk handkerchief tied over the red gold curls, and the beloved parrot clutched in a tight embrace. Mrs. Graham knelt for one brief moment by the small form, and a silent prayer went up to Heaven for mercy and protection; then she led the child to the doctor.