Hetty
had little gray curls, and gray eyebrows under a deep bonnet, and was
wrapped in a cloak with many capes. In the uncertain light their
disguise was complete.
"I have not the pleasure--" began Miss Davis.
"No, you don't know us," said Mark, "but your friends do, and we know
all about you. We were passing this way and have brought you a message
from your mother."
"Indeed!" said Miss Davis, and her heart sank. A letter she had been
expecting all the week had not arrived. Her mother was sick and poor.
What dreadful thing had happened at home?
"Oh, she is not worse than usual," put in Hetty, in the shrill piping
tone which she chose to give to Mrs. Crawford. "Don't be alarmed."
Miss Davis did not easily recover from her first shock of alarm. She
remained quite pale, and Hetty wondered to see so much feeling in a
person whom she had often thought to be almost a mere teaching-machine.
"The news is about your uncle," went on Mark. "Perhaps you have not
heard that he is married."
"No, I had not heard," murmured Miss Davis; and she looked as if this
indeed was a terrible blow to her.
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