“It was much too great a risk to run for any advantage to herself,” assented Barbara “Then they have had to provide for him all the time! Have they any children of their own?” “I don't think any.” “Then it is possible she took such a fancy to the child she was nursing, that she could not bear to part with him. I have heard of women like that, out with us.--But what are we to do, Alice? Is it right to leave the thing so? Ought we not to do anything?” “I don't know; I can't tell a bit!” answered Alice. “I have thought and thought, lying alone in the night, but never could make up my mind. Supposing you were sure it was so, there is yet the danger of interfering with those who know all about him, and can do the best for him; and there's the danger of what my mother might be tempted to do the moment any one moved in the matter. To hasten the thing might spoil all!--Isn't it strange, Barbara, how much your love for your mother seems independent of her--her character?” “I don't know;--yes, I think you are right. There is my mother, who has no guile in her, but is ready to burn you to ashes before you know what she is angry about! When you trust her, and go to her for help, she is ready to die for you. I love her with all my heart, but I can't say she's an exemplary woman. I don't think Mr. Wingfold--that's our clergyman--would say so either, though he professes quite an admiration of her.” Thereupon Barbara told Alice the story of her mother's behaviour in church, and how the parson had caught her. “But nobody knows to this day,” she concluded, “whether he intended so to catch her, or was only teaching his people by a parable, and she caught herself in its meshes. Caught she was, anyhow, and has never entered the church since! But she speaks very differently of the clergyman now.” “I feel greatly tempted sometimes,” resumed Alice, “to let Richard know; for, surely, whatever be the projects of other people concerning him, a man has the right to know where he came from!” “Yes,” answered Barbara, “a man must have the right to know what other people know about him! And yet it would be a pity to ruin the plans of good people who had all the time been working and caring for him. I wonder if he was in danger from lady Ann? I have heard out there of terrible things done to get one's way! She _is_ a death-like woman! His nurse might well be afraid of what his stepmother might do! I can quite fancy her making off with him in an agony of terror lost he should be poisoned, or smothered, or buried alive! But what if they sent him away, with a hint to the nurse that his absence might as well be permanent? What if any search they made for him was nothing but a farce? I wish we knew what ground there is for inquiring whether he may not be the child that was lost--if indeed there was a child lost! I have not heard at the house any allusion to such an occurrence.”