rue," replied Edward; "but if in this instance I have incurred
an expense and responsibility, it must be considered to be more my
misfortune than my fault." Edward Forster then entered into the
particulars connected with Amber's rescue. "You must acknowledge,
brother John," observed Edward, as he closed his narrative, "that I
could not well have acted otherwise; you would not have yourself."

"Humph! I don't know that; but this I do know, that you had better have
stayed at home!"

"Perhaps so, considering the forlorn prospects of the child; but we must
not judge. The same Providence which willed that she should be so
miraculously saved, also willed that I should be her protector;--why
otherwise did the dog lay her at my feet?"

"Because it had been taught to `fetch and carry,' I suppose: but,
however, brother Edward, I have no right to question your conduct. If
the girl is as good as she is pretty, why all the better for her; but,
as I am rather busy, let me ask if you have any more to say to me?"

"I have, John; and the discourse we have had is preliminary. I am here
with a child, forced upon me I may say, but still as dear to me as if
she were mine own. You must be aware that I have nothing but my pension
and half-pay to subsist upon. I can save nothing. My health is
undermined and my life precarious. Last winter I never expected to quit
my bed again and, as I lay in it, the thought naturally occurred of the
forlorn and helpless state in which this poor little girl would be in
case of my decease. In a lonely cottage,--without money--without family
or friends to apply to--without any one near her being made acquainted
with her unfortunate history. What would have become of her? It was
this reflection which determined me, if my life was spared, as soon as
my health would permit, to come to you, the only relative I was certain
of still having in the world, that I might acquaint you with her
existence, and, with her history, confide to you the few articles of
dress which she wore when rescued, and which may eventually lead to her
recognition:--a case of extreme doubt and difficulty, I grant; but the
ways of Providence are mysterious, and her return to the arms of her
friends will not be more wonderful than her preservation on that
dreadful night. Brother! I never have applied to you in my own behalf,
although conscious how ample are your means--and I never will; but I do
now plead in favour of this dear