Henderson, who
had been looking the other way, brought her gaze back, they saw a little
girl in a dark brown suit, a brown hat under which fell smooth braids of
black hair, who was regarding them with a pair of the keenest eyes they had
either of them ever seen.
"Oh--oh--my child--" stammered Mr. Henderson, putting out a kind hand. "So
you have come, Rachel?"
"Yes, I am Rachel," said the child, looking up into his face and laying her
hand in the parson's big one; then she turned her full regard upon the
minister's wife.
Mrs. Henderson was divided in her mind, for an instant, whether to kiss
this self-possessed child, as she had fully arranged in her mind beforehand
to do, or to let such a ceremony go by. But in a breathing space she had
her arms about her, and was drawing her to her breast.
"Rachel, dear, I am so glad you have come to us."
Rachel glanced up sharply, heaved a big sigh, and when she lifted her head
from Mrs. Henderson's neck, there was something bright that glistened in
either eye; she brushed it off before any one could spy it, as the parson
was saying:
"And now, where is your bag, child--er--Rachel, I mean?"
Rachel pointed to the end of the platform. "I'll go an' tell 'em to bring
it here."
"No, no, child." The parson started briskly.
"Let us all go," said Mrs. Henderson kindly, gathering Rachel's hand up in
one of hers.
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