118 TRUE RICHES; OR,

 

the front-windows of her dwelling, holding her
youngest child in her arms.

‘‘The children are late in coming home from
school,” said she, speaking aloud her thought. “TI
wonder what keeps them !”’

And she leaned out of the window, and looked
for some time earnestly down the street.

But the children were not in sight. For some
five or ten minutes Mrs. Claire played with and -
talked to the child in her arms; then she bent from
the window again, gazing first up and then down the
street.

‘‘That’s Edie, as I live!’ she exclaimed. ‘“ But
where is Fanny ?”

As she uttered this inquiry, a sudden fear fell like
a heavy weight on her heart. Retiring from the
window, she hastened to the door, where, by this
time, a lady stood holding little Edie by the hand.
The child’s eyes were red with weeping.

‘‘Ts this your little girl?” asked the lady.

‘‘Oh, mamma! mamma!” cried Edie, bursting into
tears, as she sprang to her mother’s side and hid her
face in her garments.

‘‘Where did you find her, ma’am? Was she lost ?”’
asked Mrs. Claire, looking surprised as well as
alarmed. ‘ Won’t you walk in, ma’am?” she added,
before there was time for a reply.

The lady entered, on this invitation, and when
seated in Mrs. Claire’s little parlour, related that
while walking through Washington Square, she no-
ticed the child she had brought home, crying bitter-
ly. On asking her as to the cause of her distress,
she said that she wanted Fanny: and then ran

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