WEALTH WITHOUT WINGS. 125

 

Two or three quick bounds brought Claire to the
door, which he threw open.

“Fanny !”’ he instantly exclaimed; and in the
next moment the child was in his arms, clinging to
him, and weeping for joy at her return.

With a wonderful calmness, Mrs. Claire re-
ceived Fanny from her husband, murmuring as she
did so, in a subdued, yet deeply gratified voice—

“OQ, God! I thank thee!”

But this calmness in a little while gave way, and
her overstrained, but now joyful feelings, poured
themselves forth in tears.

Poor child! She too had suffered during these
three never-to-be-forgotten days, and the marks of
that suffering were sadly visible in her pale, grief-
touched countenance.

To the earnest inquiries of her foster-parents,
Fanny could give no very satisfactory answer.
She had no sooner left the square with the lady
mentioned by little Edith, than she was hurried into
a carriage, and driven off to the cars, where a man
met them. This man, she said, spoke kindly to her,
showed her his watch, and told her if she would be
a good girl and not cry, he would take her home
again. In the cars, they rode for a long time,
until it grew dark; and still she said the cars kept
going. After a while she fell asleep, and when she
awoke it was morning, and she was lying on a bed.
The same lady was with her, and, speaking kindly,
told her not to be frightened—that nobody would
hurt her, and that she should go home in a day or
two.

“But I did nothing but cry,” said the child, in

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