tion in thus placing me in the hands of others had been
solely on account of deep trouble and sorrow, of which he wished me
to know nothing until I had reached the years of manhood. When
giving me into their keeping he had also given them a small packet,
containing a sealed letter, which was to be read by me on my
twenty-first birthday, if he had not himself claimed me before that
time. I was told that, while I was too young to retain any
remembrance of him, he frequently visited me and manifested the
greatest devotion to his child, but as I grew older he remained
away, writing occasionally to my foster-father.

"In the last letter received from him, when I was about five years
of age, he stated that he was going to Africa to make a fortune for
his son. Nothing further was heard from him until there came tidings
of his death at sea, in the manner which you recently related.

"Of all this I, of course, knew nothing until ten years later, but
what was told me at that time made a deep impression upon me. Of my
mother I could learn absolutely nothing; but for my father, of whom
I had no personal knowledge, and concerning whom there seemed so
much that was mysterious, I felt a love and reverence almost akin to
adoration, and I longed for the day to come when I could read the
letter he had left for me and learn the whole secret of that sad
life.

"My twenty-first birthday arrived, and the mysterious little packet
was placed in my hands. It contained a few valuable keepsakes and
my father's letter, written out of the bitter anguish of a broken
heart. He told the story of his disinheritance, with which you are
familiar; but the loss of the property he cared little for in
comparison with the loss of his father's love; but even that was as
nothing to the sorrow which followed swiftly and which broke his
heart. He stated that, because of this great sorrow, he had placed
me in the hands of trusted friends that I should be banished from
the false-hearted woman who had borne me and who believed me dead,
as it was his wish that neither of us should ever know of the
existence of the other."

Harold Mainwaring paused for a moment, and Miss Carleton, who had
been listening with great interest, exclaimed,--

"And is it possible, Mr. Mainwaring, that, in all these years, you
have had no knowledge concerning your mother?"

"It is a fact, Miss Carleton, that I do not even know her name, or
whether or not she is living. I only