Part 28 (2/2)

”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.”

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