"Stop crying; I never could endure crying children," she said. "See
how you have crushed the pretty Leghorn, you ungrateful thing! Better
be thanking heaven that I took you from that miserable poor-house,
than fly in the face of Providence in this manner, crushing Leghorn
flats and marabout feathers that cost me mints of money, as if they
were city property."

"She did not mean to spoil the feathers, ma'am, it was all my fault,"
said Mary Fuller; "Isabel loved her poor mother so much."

"And am not I her mother? Can't you children let the poor woman rest
in her pine coffin at Potter's Field, without tormenting me with all
this sobbing and crying? Remember my little lady, it is not too late
yet; a few more scenes like this and it will be an easy matter to send
you back where I took you from. Then, perhaps, you will find it worth
while to cry after your new mother a little."

The two little girls looked at each other through their tears. Perhaps
at the moment they thought of the Infants' Hospital, where Mrs.
Farnham had found them, with something of regret. The contrast of a
carriage cushioned with velvet and four superb horses, had not
impressed them as it might have done older persons. Shut up with
strangers, while their hearts were full of regret, they had not found
the change for which they were expected to be grateful, quite so happy
as she fancied.

Up to the hour we mention they had kept their places demurely, and in
silence, drawing their little feet up close to the seats, fearful of
being found in the way, and stealing their hands together now and then