It was she who received Maud's empty chair from the station-clerk, and hid it away that it might bring no fresh pang of sorrow to any heart. It was she who unostentatiously and without fuss, quietly laid by the child's toys and clothes, for she truly guessed that to Denys or Mrs. Brougham, to do so would be like saying a long farewell to their darling, and yet to see them lying here and there, was a constant reminder of her loss. Though the two things seemed to have no connection with one another, after the day that Maud was lost, Pattie gave up going out with Sam Willard. She said, when he remonstrated with her, that she had no heart now for palavering and he had better find someone who was free and happy. For herself, she could think of nothing but how to find little Maud again. "Then you'll be an old maid," said Sam crossly, "whoever's taken the child has taken her a-purpose, and they won't run no risks in returning her. You'll be an old maid if you throw away all your chances like this." "Very well!" answered Pattie firmly, "then I'll _be_ an old maid and a good-tempered one too. I won't be like some cross-grained bachelors I know, so there!" CHAPTER XXI. THE HIDING-PLACE. Jane did not feel the least shade of regret or fear when she took Maud home. There was no one there, of course, for Jim was at work still and Harry and the baby were at the Nursery. Jane gave Maud some bread and jam and a mug of milk and sat down to think over the situation. Harry had made his appearance in the house and street without occasioning the least remark or surprise. They made no apologies for him, no explanations beyond the one that he was Jim's nephew. This was her niece. That was all the difference. With no mystery and no explanations she felt perfectly secure. She would act exactly as she had done when Harry came. There was only one thing necessary for protection. The colour of the child's hair should be brown and her white dress and sun hat should be pink! "What's your name, child?" she said abruptly. Maud looked up startled. "I'm Maudie," she said piteously, her blue eyes filling with tears, "I don't like being here. I want to go home to my mother." She struggled out of her chair, and prepared to depart, but Jane lifted her back rather roughly and spoke sharply. "Look here," she said, "you've got to be a good girl and do what Aunt Jane tells you, and if you are a good girl and don't cry, you shall go home to-morrow; but if you cry, you shan't!" She bustled over to a cupboard and began rummaging, bringing out presently a ball of pink Dolly dye and a little bottle of deep-red crystals, while poor little Maud choked back her tears as best she could. Her short experience of life had brought prompt fulfilment of promises, and she watched Jane quite interestedly, as she threw a few crystals into a basin, poured boiling water on them, and produced a lovely crimson liquid. Jane then tied a towel round the child's neck.