"I was brought up in his mother's family as seamstress, and went to live with her when she married Mr. Randolph, and—"
"Who did you say? What Mr. Randolph?"
"Mr. Peyton Randolph."
Miss Rachel seemed much overcome, but she controlled herself, and hurriedly said, "Go on."
"There was no intercourse between the families after the marriage, for Mrs. Randolph was poor, and they all had been opposed to her. I suppose you do not care to hear all the details—how they went abroad, and Mr. Randolph died there; and while they were absent, their house was burned; and there was no one to take care of Phil but me, for Phil had been too sick to go with his father and mother; and Mrs. Randolph did not live long after her return. I nursed them both, Phil and his mother; and when she was gone, I came on to the city, thinking I could do better here, but I have found it hard, very hard, with no friends. Still, I have pretty steady work now as shop-woman, though I can not do all that I would like to do for Phil."
Miss Schuyler was crying.
"Lisa, you good woman, how glad I am I have found you! Phil's father was the dearest friend I ever had."
"Phil's mother gave the child to me, Miss Schuyler."
"Don't be alarmed; I do not wish to separate you. How can I ever thank you enough for telling me all this? And what a noble, generous creature you are, to be toiling and suffering for a child no way related to you, and who must have friends fully able to care for him if they would!"
"I love him as if he were my own. Sometimes I have thought I ought to try and see if any of his relatives would help us, but I can not bear to, and so we have just worried along as we could. But Phil needs a doctor and medicine, and more than I can give him."