They had almost reached the house with the friendly windows, when a
great iron gate just ahead of them swung open, and an elegantly
dressed old lady walked out to step into a carriage, drawn up at the
curbstone. Behind her came another old lady, tall and stately, and
with something so familiar in appearance that both the children stood
still in astonishment. She was looking about her with sharp,
eagle-like eyes. Her skirts swished softly as she walked, and the
little bunches of gray curls on each side of her face bobbed gently
under her imposing black bonnet.
"Aunt Patricia!" screamed little Elsie, darting forward and clasping
her arms around the astonished old lady's knees. "Oh, Aunt Patricia!
We're lost! _Please_ take us home!"
If a dirty little grizzly bear had suddenly sprung up in the path and
begun hugging her, Miss Patricia could not have been more amazed than
she was at the sight of the ragged child who clung to her. She pushed
back the old silk muffler from the tousled curls, and looked
wonderingly on the child's blood-stained face with the blue bump still
swelling on the forehead.
"Caroline Driggs," she called to the lady who stood waiting for her at
the carriage door, "am I dreaming? I never saw my nephew's children in
such a plight before. I can scarcely believe they are his."
"Oh, we are! We are!" screamed little Elsie.
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