Frances put her arms around her mother's neck. "Oh, mother, I have seen
such a beautiful lady, and she kissed me, and it made me feel like
crying!"

By degrees Mrs. Morrison had the whole story, and looked rather grave
over it. "I am sorry you went in at all, dear, and it was very wrong to
go wandering about the house, even though you thought the owner was
away."

"But I don't think she minded; at least she asked me to come again, so I
think she must have liked me."

Mrs. Morrison smiled as she kissed her little daughter; she saw nothing
improbable in this.

"I think I won't tell Jack about it," she said to herself, "For it would
only worry him; but I'll be careful to have it understood that Frances
is not to go into any house unless I am with her or have given my
permission. It can't happen again. Marvin is not a name I ever heard
Jack mention, I am quite sure of that."

CHAPTER ELEVENTH

MRS. MARVIN IS PERPLEXED.

"Jack's little girl! can it be? It is the strangest thing that ever
happened to me. I do not understand it." Mrs. Marvin paced restlessly
back and forth, an expression of pain and perplexity on her handsome
face.

"Why should I care?" she thought; "what is it to me? I gave it all up
long ago.-- And yet--that dear little girl--those eyes--a Morrison every
inch of her! There can be no mistake, but it is all a mystery how she
happened to come here. How weak I am! why should it torture me so? Oh,
Jack, Jack!" She hid her face in her hands.

It showed, however, no trace of emotion when half an hour later she
encountered her housekeeper in the upper hall.

"Caroline, who is the little girl who came to see you this afternoon?"
she asked.

"I suppose it was Emma Bond, Miss Frances; her mother has been
hemstitching some pillow cases."

"Do you know anything about the child who was with her? I think she said
she lived in the same house."

"I don't know who she is, Miss Frances. She is a pretty child, but I
don't remember her name if I ever heard it."

"I saw her and was rather attracted to her. She seemed not quite the
sort of child you would expect to find in a tenement house. There was a
very respectable looking maid with her."

Caroline smiled. She was a bright-faced Swiss woman who had lived with
her mistress for nearly thirty years, knew her thoroughly, and loved her
devotedly. She was not deceived by the air of indifference with which
the lady moved away; she understood that for s