d here she
comes."

The lady had walked across from the Barracks, slowly, sauntering over
the beautiful grounds, so fully in accord with them and the glorious
day hat she was humming an aria from pure lightness of heart. She had
not forgotten the missing lad for whom she had chosen the best horse in
the herd, but it did not seem now that anything could be really amiss.
He would surely soon be back, safe and well, and oh! how good life
was! How dear the world, and how gracious that tender Providence which
had crowned her life with joy! In this mood she came up to the group
awaiting her and Dorothy put the basket into her hands.

She hadn't expected anything of weight and nearly dropped it.

"Why, dearie, what an exquisite basket! But how heavy it is!
What--here--why? See how oddly it's fastened with rushes or something
like them. I'll sit right here while one of you open it."

She seated herself upon a carved bench beside a sun-dial and Leslie cut
the rushes which were bound tightly about the basket. As he did so a
plaintive little wail issued from it, and Lady Gray and he both jumped.

"A baby! A foundling!" laughed Mr. Ford, pretending to be greatly
frightened.

"Open it, open it quick, please! I can't wait!" cried Molly.

At the slightest touch now the lid fell off and there, lying on a mat of
softest grass, was a tiny, new-born lamb. Ohs! and Ahs! and laughter
greeted it, to which the small creature answered by another feeble
"Ma-a-a!" then curled itself to sleep.

"What a pretty present! Who could have sent it?" wondered Lady Gray.

"One of the shepherds, likely; sheep herders they call them here. And
it's the first time I ever saw a lamb 'snow white.' The comparison,
'white as a lamb' is generally wrong, for they're a dirty gray. This one
has been washed within an inch of its life--literally. Some of you girls
better take it to the dairy and give it some milk," said Mr. Ford.

"Maybe there somebody will know about it or we'll find the little boy
again. He was so cute! Like a small Indian, he looked."

"He might easily be one, Dorothy. There are still many bands of them
roaming the mountains. Quite often, the 'boys' say, some come to San
Leon. A peaceable lot, though, mostly, unless they get hold of liquor.
But liquor turns even cultivated white men into brutes. Not likely we
shall see any of them at this time of year, when life in the forest is
pleasant."

"Oh! Daniel, don't talk of Indians at all! I