“Did I tell you there is a doll carriage at home for Lucy Locket?” said she, looking down at the little figure hopping at her side.
Lydia’s eyes sparkled.
“I never had a carriage before,” was her answer. Her heart seemed full to overflowing with happiness and love. Then Lydia stood still on the street.
“Please, do I call you Mother right away?” said she, looking up into the kind face that already wore a look like that of the mother Lydia did not remember.
“Oh, yes, indeed, Lydia,” answered Mrs. Blake, “this very minute if you like.”
“And Father, too?”
“And Father, too, as soon as he comes home to-night.”
“Do you hear, Lucy Locket?” whispered Lydia. “My Mother and Father, my Mother and Father, my Father and Mother, my Father and Mother.”
It made a nice little song, and Lydia was singing it to herself as they went up the steps of the little brick house that was to be her home.
Once inside, Mrs. Blake led the way down the hall and opened the door.