he rests, veiled in her prison grave.

Let me now turn to living interests, and to scenes removed from the
thunder-clouds of crime.

.......

On the next day I received a visit from the Minister.

His first words entreated me not to allude to the terrible event of
the previous day. "I cannot escape thinking of it," he said, "but I may
avoid speaking of it." This seemed to me to be the misplaced confidence
of a weak man in the refuge of silence. By way of changing the subject,
I spoke of the child. There would be serious difficulties to contend
with (as I ventured to suggest), if he remained in the town, and allowed
his new responsibilities to become the subject of public talk.

His reply to this agreeably surprised me. There were no difficulties to
be feared.

The state of his wife's health had obliged him (acting under medical
advice) to try the influence of her native air. An interval of
some months might elapse before the good effect of the change had
sufficiently declared itself; and a return to the peculiar climate
of the town might bring on a relapse. There had consequently been no
alternative to but resign his charge. Only on that day the resignation
had been accepted--with expressions of regret sincerely reciprocated
by himself. He proposed to leave the town immediately; and one of the
objects of his visit was to bid me good-by.

"The next place I live in," he said, "will be more than a hundred miles
away. At that distance I may hope to keep events concealed which must
be known only to ourselves. So far as I can see, there are no risks of
discovery lurking in this place. My servants (only two in number) have
both been born here, and have both told my wife that they have no wish
to go away. As to the person who introduced herself to me by the name of
Miss Chance, she was traced to the railway station yesterday afternoon,
and took her ticket for London."

I congratulated the Minister on the good fortune which had befriended
him, so far.

"You will understand how carefully I have provided against being
deceived," he continued, "when I tell you what my plans are. The persons
among whom my future lot is cast--and the child herself, of course--must
never suspect that the new member of my family is other than my own
daughter. This is deceit, I admit; but it is deceit that injures no one.
I hope you see the necessity for it, as I do."

There could be no doubt of the necessity.

If the child was described a