It was in the summer-time, and Mrs. Claire sat, late in the afternoon
of a pleasant day, at one of 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. "I 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.
"Is 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.
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