strange coincidence," I thought. "What strange beings both of
them were! They did not appear either to belong to or to be fitted for
this world. They were evidently never destined for an earthly lot
together."

"The hand of providence is in this," I muttered.

I grieved much for the loss of my two patients, for I had conceived
quite a fatherly affection for them both. As soon as decency would
permit, I called upon the parents of Charles. The account they gave of
the reason of his death caused me no little surprise. It appeared that
on the eve of his marriage his mother received a badly-written and
ill-spelt letter from a person who professed to have known the family a
long time, begging her to call upon the writer, who was then in a dying
state, and had an important communication to make.

Mrs. ----, curious to know who the writer could be, called at the
address given in the letter, which proved to be a miserable hovel in one
of the back slums of London. There, stretched upon a wretched pallet,
lay the squalid and emaciated form of an old woman, whom, after some
difficulty, Mrs. ---- recognised as the monthly nurse who attended her
four and twenty years ago, during her confinement.

"Who are you?" asked Mrs. ----.

"Look at me. Do you recollect me now?" inquired the hag.

"How should I? I never saw you before. Stay, your features seem to grow
more familiar to me, now my eyes get accustomed to the light. Is it
possible you can be Sarah Maclean, the midwife who----"

"The same," responded the hag.

"What would you of me?" inquired Mrs. ----.

"I have a communication to make before I die," said the old woman.
"Listen."

And she began her confession in feeble tones, thus:

"You were not aware, ma'am, that the day before your son was born, I
myself was confined with twins--a boy and a girl. Being called upon the
next day to attend upon you, I waited to see if your child were a male
child or a female. Finding that it was a man-child, I took advantage of
the agony I saw you were in, deeming that my act would never be
discovered. I managed to conceal my own child under my shawl, and so
contrived to substitute my child for your own."

"Wretch!" cried Mrs. ----, gasping.

"Stay; hear me out. I've got more to tell," continued the hag. "Your own
son died shortly after you had given him birth, through my neglect--I
admit it."

"Murderess!" screamed Mrs. ----.

"Bear with me yet awhile," said the midwife, "while I