Franky. May I look at it?"

"Certainly," said Mrs. Campbell. "That is a picture of my sister."

For a long time Mary gazed at the sweet childish face, which, with its
clustering curls, and soft brown eyes, looked to her so much like
Franky. At last, turning to Mrs. Campbell, she said, "You must have
loved her very much. What was her name?"

"Ella Temple," was Mrs. Campbell's reply, and Mary instantly
exclaimed, "Why, _that was my mother's name_!"

"Your mother, Mary!--your mother!" said Mrs. Campbell, starting up
from her pillow. "But no; it cannot be. Your mother is lying in
Chicopee, and Ella, my sister, died in England."

Every particle of color had left Mary's face, and her eyes, now black
as midnight, stared wildly at Mrs. Campbell. The sad story, which her
mother had once told her, came back to her mind, bringing with it the
thought, which had so agitated her companion.

"Yes," she continued, without noticing what Mrs. Campbell had said,
"my mother was Ella Temple, and she had two sisters, one her own, and
the other, a half sister,--Sarah Fletcher and Jane Temple,--both of
whom came to America many years ago."

"Tell me more,--tell me all you know!" whispered Mrs. Campbell,
grasping Mary's hand; "and how it came bout that I thought she was
dead,--my sister."

Upon this point Mary could throw no light, but of all that she had
heard from her mother she told, and then Mrs Campbell, pointing to her
writing desk, said, "Bring it to me. I must read that letter again."

Mary obeyed, and taking out a much soiled, blotted letter, Mrs.
Campbell asked her to read it aloud. It was as follows--"Daughter
Jane,--I now take this opportunity of informing you, that I've lost
your sister Ella, and have now no child saving yourself, who, if you
behave well, will be my only heir. Sometimes I wish you were here, for
it's lonesome living alone, but, I suppose you're better off where you
are. Do you know any thing of that girl Sarah? Her cross-grained uncle
has never written me a word since he left England. If I live three
years longer I shall come to America, and until that time, adieu. Your
father,--Henry Temple Esq. M.P."

"How short and cold!" was Mary's first exclamation, for her
impressions of her grandfather were not very agreeable.

"It is like all his letters," answered Mrs. Campbell "But it was cruel
to make me think Ella was dead, for how else could I suppose he had
lost her? and when I asked the particulars of he