d,
whom she really loved, but was comforted by the promise of an annual
visit to her, in Berkshire.

Poor little Molly wept much when she left her good friends. They had
not only taught her what human kindness and affection were, but had
taught her much about her Heavenly Father,--had led her straight to the
arms of His infinite love. So her tears were not all of sadness, but
of tenderest gratitude, as she went from their door with kindly Farmer
Morton.

CHAPTER III.

Our little friend Molly spent five peaceful, happy years in her home
among the grand old hills of Berkshire, with Farmer Morton and his
kind, good wife. She was treated in every respect as a daughter, well
instructed in religious duties and moral obligations, and in all useful
housewifely arts. Nor was school education withheld. As soon as she
had acquired the first rudiments of knowledge, she was sent to the
excellent village academy, where she proved an apt and diligent
scholar. In return for all this generous, fostering care, Molly (or
_Mary Morton_ as she was usually called) gave to the kind pair who had
so generously adopted her, all the affection, respect, and obedience
due to parents; added to a gratitude inexpressibly deep and tender.
Her life as a beggar-girl, half fed, half clad, and always abused, had
been so terribly sad that she could never forget it; and her present
life seemed one of heavenly serenity and security in contrast.

She did not see her "_dream_-father and mother" as often as formerly.
She did not need them. But when they did come to her in her slumbers,
they looked happy, and smiled over her.

Molly was now in her fifteenth summer,--a tall, graceful girl, with a
sweet, delicate face. She was still pale and slender, for she had not
quite outgrown the effects of the old sorrow, starvation, and exposure.
Her face often wore an expression of pensive sadness, unsuited to her
years,--a faint shadow of her unhappy childhood still lingering about
her,--but it was always ready to brighten into cheerful smiles at a
kind word or look.

Molly had made more than one visit to her friends in New York, and now
the Raeburns were spending some weeks in the pretty village which was
scarcely a mile from the farm-house of Mr. Morton. They were as kind
as ever to Molly, and quite proud of her. They took her with them on
all their drives among the hills, or rows upon the lakes. Bessie
always spoke of her friend as "My Molly," seemi