ental. I was sent over to Mrs.
Jasper's on an errand, and, in passing through the woods, saw him
sitting alone and looking very unhappy. I was frightened; but he
told me that he wouldn't hurt a hair of my head. Then he made me sit
down upon the grass beside him, and talk to him about his mother. He
asked me a great many questions, and I told him all that I could
remember about her. Sometimes the tears would steal over his cheeks;
and sometimes he would say--'Ah! if my mother had not died. Her
death was a great loss to me, Jenny--a great loss--and I have been
worse for it.'"

"And was this all you talked about, Jenny," asked Mr. Lofton, who
was much, affected by the artless narrative of the girl.

"It was all about his mother," replied Jenny. "He said that I not
only bore her name, but that I looked like her, and that it seemed
to him, while with me, that she was present."

"He said that, did he!" Mr. Lofton spoke more earnestly, and looked
intently upon Jenny's face. "Yes--yes--it is so. She does look like
dear Jenny," he murmured to himself. "I never saw this before. Dear
boy! We have done him wrong. These hasty conclusions--ah, me! To how
much evil do they lead!"

"And you were talking thus, when Mrs. Lee found you?"

"Yes, sir."

"What did she say?"

"I can hardly tell what she said, I was so frightened. But I know
she spoke angrily to him and to me, and threatened to see you."

Mr. Lofton sighed deeply, then added, as if the remark were casual--

"And that is the last you have seen of him."

"No, sir; I met him a little while ago, as he was hurrying away from
your house."

"You did!" Mr. Lofton started at Jenny's unexpected reply.

"Yes, sir."

"Did he speak to you?"

"Yes; he stopped and caught hold of my hand, saying, 'God bless you,
Jenny! We may never meet again. They have driven me away, because
they thought I meant to harm you.' But he said nothing wrong was in
his heart, and asked me to pray for him, as he would need my
prayers."

At this part of her narrative, Jenny wept bitterly, and her
auditor's eyes became dim also.

Satisfied that Jenny's story was true in every particular, Mr.
Lofton spoke kindly to her and sent her home.

A week after Mark Clifford left Fairview, word came that he had
enlisted in the United States' service and gone to sea as a common
sailor; accompanying this intelligence was an indignant avowal of
his father that he would have nothing more to do with him. To o