"But she is in heaven," said Mary, in her sweet, deep voice, that always seemed so holy and true. "Now, dear Isabel, you will have two mothers, one here, another beyond the stars. That mother--oh, Isabel, I believe it as I do my own life--that mother comes to you always when you pray." "Oh! then I will pray so often, Mary," cried the little girl, clasping her hands, "if that will bring her close to me." Mary looked long and wistfully into that lovely face, with only such admiration as one bereft of all personal attractions can feel for beauty. Isabel clung closer to her, and wept more quietly. "You will come and see me very often?" she whispered. "Yes," sobbed Mary, "if they will let me." "Where are they going to leave you?" "I don't know, I haven't thought to ask till now." "I hope it will be near, Mary; and then, you know, we will see each other every day," cried the child, brightening through her tears. "But I am afraid Mrs. Farnham don't like me well enough. She may not allow it," answered Mary, with a meek smile. "But _I_ will," persisted Isabel, flinging back her head, with an air that brought fresh tears into Mary's eyes. "Isabel," she said gravely, and striving to suppress her grief, "don't--don't--Mrs. Farnham is your mother now." "No, she isn't though. She frightens me to death with her kindness. She don't love me a bit, only because my face is so pretty. I wish it wasn't, and then, perhaps, I could go with you." "No, no, we needn't expect that, _I_ never did. It's only a wonder they took me at all. I'm Mr. Frederick's child, and you are hers. I'm quite sure if it hadn't been for him and Mr. Sharp, I should have been left in the Poor House all alone. The lady only looked at you from the first." "I know it, don't you think I heard all she said about my eyes, my curls and my beautiful face, while you stood there with your mouth all of a tremble, and your eyes growing so large and bright under their tears--I knew that it was my pretty face, that was doing it all; and oh! just then, Mary, I hated it so much." "It is a great thing to have a beautiful face, Isabel, a very great thing. You don't know what it is to see kind people turn away their eyes for fear of hurting your feelings by a look, and to hear rude, bad persons gibing at you. Isabel, dear, you wouldn't like that." Mary said this in her usual sad, meek way, smiling so patiently as if every word were a tear wrung from her heart. "Oh! Mary, but you are beautiful to me--nobody on earth looks so sweet and so good in my eyes, or ever will." The two children embraced each other, and both wept freely as only children can weep. At length, Mary Fuller withdrew herself from Isabel's arms, lingering a moment to press fresh kisses among her curls. "Now, Isabel, you must go. See, they are looking at us. Mrs. Farnham will be angry."