Emma thought this a delightful arrangement, but Frances looked with envy upon the children who pa.s.sed, swinging their school bags. "It is because I wasn't strong last winter and mother thinks it wouldn't be good for me to be shut up in a schoolroom, but I shall go next year," she explained.

As the fall weather was beautiful they spent a great deal of time out of doors, and when Mrs. Morrison did not care to go herself she would send Frances with Zen.o.bia for a walk or a ride on the cars, to the delight of the latter, who adored her young charge.

These two were returning from a long walk one cold day, when they met Emma Bond, who said she was going to Mrs. Marvin's with some work, and asked them to go back with her.

"I don't know whether mother would like me to; do you think she would care, Zen.o.bia?" Frances asked.

It was only a short distance, and Zen.o.bia couldn't see any harm in stopping a moment; so they went in with Emma and sat in the hall while she ran upstairs to speak to the housekeeper.

Everything was in perfect order to-day, and Frances gave a little sigh of satisfaction as she looked about her; it was all so warm and beautiful, with a stately sort of beauty that was very impressive. She sat as still as a mouse, listening to the ticking of some unseen clock.

Emma stayed a long time, and presently Frances whispered, "Zen.o.bia, there is a picture I want to see, and I am just going to peep in that door; I'll be back in a minute;" and she stole softly across the hall as if afraid she might break the stillness.

The room she entered was a library, s.p.a.cious and beautiful; but Frances thought of nothing but the portrait, which in the softened light that came from the curtained windows was more charming than ever.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'Little girl, I wish I knew you'"]

"Little girl, I wish I knew you," she said half aloud, standing before it, her eyes bright from her walk in the keen air, her cheeks the deepest rose.

On the hearth a wood fire smouldered, breaking into little gleams of flame now and then.

"If you would only come down and talk to me, and tell me who you are,"

Frances continued under her breath, unconsciously taking the att.i.tude of the picture girl who smiled down on her so brightly.

The fire purred softly, and there was added to this sound after a little a gentle rustle which, though she heard it, seemed so a part of the quiet that she gave it no thought. Then, suddenly, as if she had been awakened from a dream, she became conscious of the presence of some one near her.

Turning, her eyes met those of a very stately person who stood only a few feet away leaning on the back of a chair. She had silvery hair and a proud, handsome face, and for a second or two Frances continued to gaze at her, the two pairs of eyes holding each other as if by some magnetic power.

Then it flashed into Frances' mind that this must be Mrs. Marvin, and the spell was broken. She had come home--and what must she think of a girl who roamed about her house without leave! The child wanted to explain, but words were not easy to find, and the lady did not speak.

"I did not know--" she began, then hesitated and tried again; "I thought--" her throat felt very dry, and she wondered if she had spoken at all. It was so strange and uncomfortable that tears rose to her eyes.

"I wish you would tell me who you are;" the lady spoke in a strange, cold voice.

The feeling that she was not being fairly treated, together with her determination not to cry, made Frances intensely dignified, and it was with a haughtiness almost equal to the lady's own that she replied, "My name is Frances Morrison," and with a movement of her head which seemed to add, "it is useless to try to explain," she turned away.

A singular expression came into the stranger's face; she sat down in the nearest chair. "I wish you would not go," she said; "I am afraid I startled you as much as you did me. Come and tell me how you happen to be here." Her tone was no longer cold, and she held out her hands appealingly.

The smile transformed her face, which was all sweetness and graciousness now, and impulsive little Frances was instantly won. She went quickly to the lady's side, saying in a breathless way she had when excited, "I thought perhaps you did not like it,--but I didn't know any one was here, and I wanted to see the picture again, so while Emma was upstairs I thought I'd just peep in, but I'm sorry--" she paused; evidently her words had not been heard. This strange person held her hands and gazed at her in the oddest way.

"And so you are a real little girl!" she said at length.

The child smiled uneasily, and seeing it, the lady put her arm around her and drew her closer. "Forgive me, dear, for not listening," she said. "You came with--whom?"

Again Frances explained, but perhaps she did not make it very clear, for her companion still looked puzzled.

"Do you live here?" she asked.

"No, we are spending the winter here, mother and I."

"Your mother and you--" the questioner repeated.

"Yes, while father is away; he has gone to Honolulu. We stopped here because mother was ill, and then the _Eastern Review_ wanted father to go to Hawaii, so we thought we'd just stay. We have a flat at the Spectacle Man's--I mean Mr. Clark's--and it is very nice."

"Is it?" The stranger's eyes travelled over the dainty figure. "You will think I am asking a great many questions, but where did you get your name?" she added.

"It was my great-grandmother's. Mother wanted to put Chauncey in. That is father's name, John Chauncey Morrison. Perhaps you have read his stories." Again Frances saw that strange expression in the face before her.

"Do you know who I am?" the lady asked.

"I suppose you are Mrs. Marvin. Emma said you had not come home yet, but that you were coming very soon, and when I saw you I knew who it must be, and-- I hope you'll excuse me," she added, remembering she had offered no apology.

Emma and Zen.o.bia, who had been standing in the door for several minutes, now succeeded in catching Frances' eye. "I must go," she said, "they are waiting for me."

Mrs. Marvin glanced in their direction. "Will you come to see me again?"

she asked.

"I don't know whether mother will let me," Frances replied doubtfully.

The lady suddenly took the child's face in her hands and kissed her lips,--such a strange, pa.s.sionate kiss it was; and then Frances felt herself almost pushed away.

She had hardly any answer for Emma's excited questions, which began as soon as they were outside the door, but walked along with an absent expression that was rather provoking.

"I can't see what makes you so funny, Frances," said her friend.

"Why, Wink, how late you are!" Mrs. Morrison exclaimed, meeting them at the head of the steps, having spent the last half hour at the window.

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.