"Oh! Mark, I will never play a trick again as long as I live," whispered
Hetty; "we were near killing her. How could we dare to meddle with her
affairs?"
"How was I to know she had a brother?" grumbled Mark under his breath.
"And what has he to do with the joke of her uncle's marrying?"
"And dying?" said Hetty. "But that's just it, you see, we don't know
anything about it."
"Children," murmured Miss Davis, "what has happened to me? Give me your
hands, Mark, and help me to rise."
They raised her up and laid her on the sofa.
"What was the matter?" repeated Miss Davis, seeing the tears flowing
down Hetty's cheeks.
"Oh! two nasty old people came to see you and frightened you," said
Mark, "and then they walked off, and Hetty and I found you on the
floor."
Hetty gave Mark a reproachful look, coloured deeply, and hung her head.
Mark cast a warning glance at her over Miss Davis's shoulder. He did not
want to be discovered.
"Oh! I remember," moaned Miss Davis. "My poor mother!"
Mark could not bear the unhappy tone of her voice, and turned and fled
out of the room.
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