"
"Your duty lies with your aunt, miss," here exclaimed the exasperated
Mrs. Flint. "Sarah, I was taking your part, but your airs are now past
standing. Ladies three, I feel convinced that this story is all a
make-up. I don't believe for a moment the child has gone away. It's a
make-up of Sarah's, who is turning into a most wicked girl."
"I don't believe it," here exclaimed Miss Slowcum. "Sarah Bertha has
spoken the truth, I feel convinced. I had a warning dream last night.
I dreamt of white horses, and that always signifies very great
trouble. It's my belief that the poor dear innocent little child has
been murdered!"
"Murdered!" almost screamed Mrs. Mortlock. "Miss Slowcum, I'll thank
you to come and take the seat next me, my dear, and tell me all your
reasons in full for making this most startling remark. My dear, I
don't object to holding your hand while you're pouring forth the tale
of woe. How and where, Miss Slowcum, did the child meet her death?"
Meanwhile, during this wrangling and fierce disputing, Mrs. Dredge,
more kind-hearted than the others, had left the room. She had gone
into the hall, where Primrose and Jasmine stood side by side.
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