"And did you never have any other?"
"No, not here in Philadelphia. There was never any one else in our family but my father."
"So they have not told her!" murmured Mrs. Brown, but so low that Elizabeth could not quite catch the words. Then with an effort she continued, "And your father! Where is he?"
"He is abroad. He has never lived at home since my mother died, and that was when I was a baby, so I have never seen him."
"Ah, poor Edward!" said Mrs. Brown.
"Why, Mrs. Brown, do you know him? That is exactly what Aunt Caroline always calls him. Do you know my father?"
"What did I say?" exclaimed Mrs. Brown, hurriedly. "I must have been thinking of—at least, I used to know your father, it is true. But don't ask me any more, my child; and perhaps it would be as well not to mention to your aunts that—-that you have seen me."
"Another mystery!" cried Elizabeth. "Oh, dear me, I do hate them!"
"My child," said Mrs. Brown, taking the little girl's hands in her own and looking tenderly into the great brown eyes, "I do not ask you to hide anything on my account. Say just what you think best. And I hope I shall see more of you, Elizabeth. Perhaps some day you can come to see me with Patsy. My home is in the country, and I am merely spending the night with Mrs. Loring, who is an old friend whom I have not seen in some years. She only discovered to-day that I was at the school, and she begged me to stay with her to-night. I am sitting here waiting for her to come to me. And now I want you to kiss me, Elizabeth, for already I love you dearly."
Elizabeth threw her arms about her new friend.