ace of my departure from the hospital, I assumed the
name of Odille Orphia Orme, which had belonged to a sister of my
grandmother.

"I was not sixteen when you were born, and, having had my head shaved
during my illness, my hair grew out the bright gold you see it now,
instead of the dark brown it had hitherto been. A strange freak of
nature, but a providential aid to the disguise I wished to maintain.
I wrote to Cuthbert, informing him of your birth, praying his speedy
return, but no reply came; and again and again I repeated the
petition. At length I was answered by the return of all my letters,
without a line of comment. Then I began to suspect what was in store
for me, but it threatened to drive me wild; and I shut my eyes and
refused to think, set my teeth, and hoped, hoped still. The two years
had almost expired, and when Cuthbert was of age he would fly to his
wife and child, solacing them for all they had endured. I could not
afford to doubt; that way lay madness!

"When you were fourteen months old, I put you in an Orphan Asylum,
where I could see you often, and took a situation as upper maid and
seamstress in a fashionable family on Fifth Avenue. My duties were
light, my employers were considerate and kind, and the young ladies,
observing my desire to improve myself, gave me the privileges of the
library, which was well selected and extensive. They were very
cultivated, elegant people, and I listened to their conversation,
observed their deportment, and modelled my manners after the example
they furnished. I was so anxious to astonish Cuthbert by my grace and
intelligence, when he presented me to his father, and I exulted in
the thought that even he might one day be proud of his son's wife.

"How I struggled and toiled, sowing by day, reading, studying by
night. Finding Racine, Euripides, and Shakespeare in the library, I
perused them carefully, and accidentally I discovered my talent. The
ladies of the house on one occasion had private theatricals, and the
play was one with which I chanced to be familiar. At the last
rehearsal, on the night of the play, one of the young ladies was
suddenly seized with such violent giddiness, that she was unable to
appear in the character she personated, and in the dilemma I was
summoned. So successful was my performance that I saw the new path
opening before me, and began to fit myself for it. I gave every spare
moment to dramatic studies, and was progressing rapidly when