which had compelled her to resort to such a step; a half feeling of
jealousy, that there should be one who had a claim to her dear
adopted daughter superior to her own; and a strong feeling of relief
at the assurance that Ida was not to be permanently removed,--all
these feelings affected the cooper's wife.

"So you were Ida's nurse," she said, gently.

"Yes, ma'am," said the stranger. "I hope the dear child is well."

"Perfectly well. How much her mother must have suffered from the
separation!"

"Indeed, you may say so, ma'am. It came near to break her heart."

"So it must," said sympathizing Mrs. Crump. "There is one thing I
would like to ask," she continued, hesitating and reddening. "Don't
answer it unless you please. Was--is Ida the child of shame?"

"She is not," answered the nurse.

Mrs. Crump looked relieved. It removed a thought from her mind which
would now and then intrude, though it had never, for an instant,
lessened her affection for the child.

At this point in the conversation, the cooper entered the house. He
had just come home on an errand.

"It is my husband," said Mrs. Crump, turning to her visitor, by way
of explanation. "Timothy, will you come in a moment?"