"My dear," she said, "are you fond of candy?"

"Ever so much," said Emma.

"Suppose we go to a candy store and get some?"

"But I don't want to leave Ben," said the little girl.

"Oh, we will be back before he returns," said the lady. "Will you come?"

"If you are certain sure you will be back in time."

"Oh, yes, my dear."

The lady's manner was so kind that Emma felt entire confidence in her promise.

"Yes, I will go."

They walked down the hill in a different direction from that which they had come up. This brought them to a street on which were some shops. The lady entered one, leading Emma by the hand.

"Give us one half-pound of a.s.sorted candy," she said.

The girl behind the counter weighed out the candy and handed it to her.

They left the shop.

"Now are we going back to Ben?" asked Emma.

"I have sent word to him to come to my house and take supper, my dear child. Come with me, and you will see him soon."

How should Emma know that this was not true? She was a little girl, with no experience of the world, accustomed to put confidence in those she met, and the lady was very kind in her manner.

"Is your home far off?" she asked.

"No, it is quite near."

This proved to be true.

The lady turned up a street lined with neat dwellings and rang the bell.

A servant answered the bell.

"Is it you, mum?" she said.

"Yes, Jane."

Jan looked inquiringly at the little girl, and was on the point of asking who she was; but she knew her mistress was peculiar and said nothing.

"This little girl will stay to tea," said the lady. "Put on an extra plate."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And isn't Ben coming, too?" asked Emma, noting the omission.

"Yes, Jan, you may put on two extra plates."

Emma followed her new acquaintance up-stairs, and was led into a neat bedchamber. The lady entered it, bade Emma enter, locked the door, and then, sinking on the floor before the astonished child, exclaimed with evident emotion: "Have I found you at last, my dear, dear child?"

Emma was startled at the lady's tone, and for the fist time felt alarmed.

"I ain't your child," she said. "What makes you call me so?"

"Are you not my dear little Mary?" said the lady.

"No, my name isn't Mary. My name is Emma."

"Did they change your name, my dear child? Was it not enough to take you away from me, without changing your name?"

"I don't know what you mean," said Emma, ore and more alarmed.

"I want to go back to Ben."

"Would you leave your mother, my child?"

"You are not my mother. Let me go."

Emma ran to the door, but it was locked, and the key was in the lady's pocket.

"I cannot let you go, my dear child. You have been away from me too long already. I have been very lonely without you."

Her tone was still kind--it had never varied--but Emma was thoroughly frightened.

"Let me go!" she began to cry. "I want to go to Ben."

The lady looked at her in mingled grief and wonder.

"Can a child turn from her own mother to a stranger?" she said musingly. "She forgets that she is my little Mary. She no longer loves me."

"My name is Emma," said the little girl. "Why did you take me away from Ben?"

Help was at hand, though it came from a stranger.

A knock was heard at the door, and the lady rose and opened it.

The newcomer was a little younger than the lady already mentioned, but bore such a resemblance to her as to indicate that she was her sister. She looked at surprise at Emma.

"Where did you get this child, Clara?" she asked.

"It is my little Mary. Don't you see that it is?"

"You are mistaken, Clara. Your little Mary is in heaven."