ts had been those in
which she laboured unsuccessfully to speak, which had occurred at six
o'clock. She wore a black silk dress.

When we came to dispose of her business, and to wind up her affairs,
there was scarcely anything left for the two orphan girls. Mrs M----'s
father, however, being well-to-do, took them to bring up. At his death,
which happened soon afterwards, his property went to his eldest son, who
speedily dissipated the inheritance. During a space of two years the
children were taken as visitors by various relations in turn, and lived
an unhappy life with no settled home.

For some time I had been debating with myself how to help these
children, having many boys and girls of my own to provide for. I had
almost settled to take them myself, bad as trade was with me, at the
time, and bring them up with my own family, when one day business called
me to Brighton. The business was so urgent that it necessitated my
travelling at night.

I set out from Bognor in a close-headed gig on a beautiful moonlight
winter's night, when the crisp frozen snow lay deep over the earth, and
its fine glistening dust was whirled about in little eddies on the bleak
night-wind--driven now and then in stinging powder against my tingling
cheek, warm and glowing in the sharp air. I had taken my great "Bose"
(short for "Boatswain") for company. He lay, blinking wakefully,
sprawled out on the spare seat of the gig beneath a mass of warm rugs.

Between Littlehampton and Worthing is a lonely piece of road, long and
dreary, through bleak and bare open country, where the snow lay
knee-deep, sparkling in the moonlight. It was so cheerless that I turned
round to speak to my dog, more for the sake of hearing the sound of a
voice than anything else. "Good Bose," I said, patting him, "there's a
good dog!" Then suddenly I noticed he shivered, and shrank underneath
the wraps. Then the horse required my attention, for he gave a start,
and was going wrong, and had nearly taken me into the ditch.

Then I looked up. Walking at my horse's head, dressed in a sweeping
robe, so white that it shone dazzling against the white snow, I saw a
lady, her back turned to me, her head bare; her hair dishevelled and
strayed, showing sharp and black against her white dress.

I was at first so much surprised at seeing a lady, so dressed, exposed
to the open night, and such a night as this, that I scarcely knew what
to do. Recovering myself, I called out to know