Kane, beginning
to feel hurt at the child's coldness. "Come now, have you never a kiss
to give to the poor old mammy that nursed you?"
Hetty held up her round sweet face, as fair and fresh as a damask rose,
to be kissed, and submitted to Mrs. Kane's caresses rather from
consciousness that she ought to do so, than from any warmth of gratitude
in her own heart. So far from being grateful to the homely sun-burned
woman who hugged her, she felt a sort of resentment towards her for
finding her on the sea-shore and making a cottage child of her. It ought
to have been Mrs. Rushton who found her, and perhaps she might have done
so if Mrs. Kane or her husband had not been in such a hurry to take her
in. Then Grant could not have taunted her with being a village
foundling, and nobody could have declared she was not intended to be a
lady.
After her one embrace Mrs. Kane wiped her eyes and led the child out of
the cottage to the carriage door.
"Ah, Mrs. Rushton!" she said, "this is your Hetty now and not mine any
more. What does a fine young lady like this want to know of a poor old
mammy like me? I gave her to you, body and soul, five years ago, and may
the good God grant that I did right! My little Hetty, that loved the big
moon-daisies and the field-lilies like her life, is as dead as my other
children who are in heaven.
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