, that I knew a
relation of his some years ago."

"Oh yes, Mrs. Willoughby; I will gladly ask him to come and see you.
Indeed, I was just going to ask if you would allow him to call--" Here
the girl hesitated a moment, then said, "You see, it was only last
night, but I am engaged to be married to Dr. Heinz, and do wish you to
know and love him for my sake."

Love one of the name of Heinz! Could she do so, the gentle lady was
asking herself. What if he should prove to be the brother of the man who
had caused her such bitter sorrow? But at that moment there rose to her
remembrance the words of Scripture, said by Him who suffered from the
hand of man as never man suffered, "Forgive, as ye would be forgiven,"
and who illustrated that forgiveness on the cross when He prayed for His
deadly enemies, "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do."
The momentary struggle was over. Mrs. Willoughby raised her head, and
said in a calm, quiet tone,--

"God bless you, Gertie; and may your union be a very happy one. I should
like to see Dr. Heinz."

And so it came to pass that ere many days had elapsed, Dr. Heinz was
ushered into Mrs. Willoughby's drawing-room in the London house which
they had taken for the season. He was hardly seated before she said,--

"Yes, oh yes--there can be no mistake--you certainly are the brother of
the man who married my daughter. Tell me, oh tell me," she added, "what
you know of her and of him!"

Dr. Heinz was strongly moved as he looked on the face of the agitated
mother.

"Alas!" he said, "I grieve to say I can tell you nothing. I have not
heard for several years from my brother, and at times I fear he must be
dead. My poor brother, how I loved him! for, Mrs. Willoughby, a gentler
or more kind-hearted man never lived. You may be sure, however much your
daughter was to blame in marrying any one against her parents' wishes,
she found in my brother a truly loving, kind husband."

"Thank God for that!" she replied. "But now tell me, was there a child?
Gertie spoke as if you knew there was one."

"Certainly there was. In the last letter I had from my brother, he spoke
of the great comfort their little girl (who was the image of her mother)
was to them--his little Frida he called her, and at that time she was
three or four years old. Oh yes, there was a child. Would that I could
give you more particulars! but I cannot; only I must mention that he
said, 'I am far from strong, and my beloved