This etext was produced by Charles Franks
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
Author of "Inez," "St. Elmo," "Infelice," "At the Mercy of
Tiberius," "Vashti," etc.
"With that gloriole
Of ebon hair, on calmed brows."
A January sun had passed the zenith, and the slanting rays flamedover the window panes of a large brick building, bearing on itsfront in golden letters the inscription "Orphan Asylum." Thestructure was commodious, and surrounded by wide galleries, whilethe situation offered a silent tribute to the discretion and goodsense of the board of managers who selected the suburbs instead ofthe more densely populated portion of the city. The whitewashedpalings inclosed, as a front yard or lawn, rather more than an acreof ground, sown in grass and studded with trees, among which theshelled walks meandered gracefully. A long avenue of elms andpoplars extended from the gate to the principal entrance, andimparted to the Asylum an imposing and venerable aspect. There wasvery little shrubbery, but here and there orange boughs bent beneaththeir load of golden fruitage, while the glossy foliage, stirred bythe wind, trembled and glistened in the sunshine. Beyond theinclosure stretched the common, dotted with occasional clumps ofpine and leafless oaks, through which glimpses of the city might behad. Building and grounds wore a quiet, peaceful, inviting look,singularly appropriate for the purpose designated by the inscription"Orphan Asylum," a haven for the desolate and miserable. The frontdoor was closed, but upon the broad granite steps, where thesunlight lay warm and tempting, sat a trio of the inmates. In theforeground was a slight fairy form, "a wee winsome thing," withcoral lips, and large, soft blue eyes, set in a frame of short,clustering golden curls. She looked about six years old, and wasclad, like her companions, in canary-colored flannel dress and blue-check apron. Lillian was the pet of the asylum, and now her rosycheek rested upon her tiny white palm, as though she wearied of thepicture-book which lay at her feet. The figure beside her was onewhose marvelous beauty riveted the gaze of all who chanced to seeher. The child could have been but a few months older than Lillian,yet the brilliant black eyes, the peculiar curve of the dimpledmouth, and long, dark ringlets, gave to the oval face a maturer andmore piquant loveliness. The cast of Claudia's countenance bespokeher foreign parentage, and told of the warm, fierce Italian bloodthat glowed in her cheeks. There was fascinating grace in everymovement, even in the easy indolence of her position, as she bent onone knee to curl Lillian's locks over her finger. On the upper step,in the rear of these two, sat a girl whose age could not have beenvery accurately guessed from her countenance, and whose featurescontrasted strangely with those of her companions. At a first casualglance, one thought her rather homely, nay, decidedly ugly; yet, tothe curious physiognomist, this face presented greater attractionsthan either of the others. Reader, I here paint you the portrait ofthat quiet little figure whose history is contained in the followingpages. A pair of large gray eyes set beneath an overhangingforehead, a boldly projecting forehead, broad and