"Of course they will, as they are to be sisters," said Patty, with edifying faith in humanity.
"And I wonder if she will love us?"
"Surely, since we are to be her parents, and will be always kind and faithful to her."
"I hope so," said Mark, shaking his head; "but there are some things, Patty, that do not mix well—as, say, oil and water—and belike blood will tell, and this little lady will not take to our homely ways. Besides, we shall always be considering how much is due her for that hundred pounds a year; and I, for one, will always be remembering how she came like a little angel to save a home that is like my heart's blood to me."
Then they went down-stairs, leaving the dark child and the fair child sleeping together.
CHAPTER III.
A DAUGHTER OF PATRICIANS.
Mark and Patty Brace sat down again by their hearth-stone. They were too much excited to think of sleep. Mark made up the fire and trimmed the lamp, and ruddy glow and golden gleam seemed the joyful reflection of their strangely-brightened fortunes.
Honest Mark, who seldom thought of even locking his door when he went to bed, suddenly felt that thieves might break in to steal that blessed hundred pounds that saved him from ruin. He buttoned the notes up in his waistcoat, and longed for the day-dawn when he might pay his debt and be free.
Upon Patty's simple heart rested the shadow of a new care. It was to her upright spirit a terrible responsibility to rear a stranger's child. What disposition would this little one inherit?