“Oh, mamma, you are better!” cried Virgie, catching sight of her mother, her face lighting with pleasure, “and how nice you look! Willie,” turning with an impressive air to her companion, “do you know I think _my_ mamma is the prettiest mamma there is in the world; yours is very nice and grand, but I _don’t_ think she is quite as lovely as mine.” The boy fixed his eyes on Virgie, and looked gravely thoughtful for a moment, as if debating the point in his mind, and she was amused, in spite of her pain, by his evident desire to be guilty of no disloyalty, and yet not wound his new friend by contradicting her assertion, as he replied: “Well, perhaps; but my _papa_ is very handsome. Where is your papa?” “Sh!” Virgie whispered, as her mother turned quickly away at the question and walked to the end of the corridor, where there was an alcove inclosed by rich draperies, “it makes mamma very sad to say anything about my papa. We lost him when I was a little baby.” “Lost him!” “Yes; he went away over the same sea that you had to cross and he never came back.” “Oh! he was drownded!” whispered the little fellow, in an awe-stricken voice, and looking exceedingly shocked. “What is your mamma’s name?” he asked, after a pause. “Virginia—the same as mine. What is yours?” “Margaret, and it means ‘a pearl.’ Papa sometimes calls her his ‘pearl of great price.’” “Oh!” moaned Virgie from behind the draperies, as she caught these words, “a pearl of great price, indeed.” Just then a door midway of the corridor opened and another lady came slowly down the lofty hall. She was tall and commanding in figure; not so slight or graceful as Virgie, but possessing a sweet and gracious dignity that was exceedingly pleasing. She was a perfect blonde, and her beautiful golden hair was gathered into a massive and graceful knot at the back of her head. Her eyes were blue, her cheeks delicately tinted with pink, and a rare, winning smile played about her sweet mouth. She was dressed all in white. A robe of some soft clinging material was _en traine_, very artistically draped and elaborately trimmed with a profusion of white satin ribbons. She wore an elegant set of opals surrounded with diamonds, and was truly a beautiful and distinguished looking woman. Her face gleamed with infinite tenderness as she drew near the children. “Why, are you still playing together?” she asked, as she stopped beside them; “you seem inclined to be very friendly.” “Yes, Virgie is a very nice girl to play with,” returned Master Heath, with the air of one paying a great compliment; “and see what she has given me, mamma,” he added, holding up a handful of toys. “Do not let the little girl rob herself,” said his mother, in a voice of tender caution. “No; she made me take them; and—oh, mamma! I have seen her mamma—she was here just now—such a lovely lady! And Virgie says she lost her papa when she was a little baby—he was drownded.”