little dear, like an angel as she
is, began to comfort her mother, and to coax her, and when I saw the
poor lady begin to shed tears over the child I went away.

'Ever since that morning, sir, she has been in a kind of a dream. She
does nothing but look out of the window, up and down the street, as if
she was expecting some one, and whenever there is a step on the stairs,
she runs to the door and peeps out. And then, when the postman's knock
is heard, she starts, turns red, turns pale, and puts her hand on her
heart. I am sure she has heart complaint, and I asked her to let me send
for a doctor, but she wouldn't hear of it. Sometimes I think she's a
little crazed. Once I mentioned the clergy, and asked if she wouldn't
like to see one, and said you and Mr Jones, sir, were very kind
gentlemen. She started up, and said, "Hush! hush! not for worlds--not
for worlds! Mr Mills will soon be back!" She gave me a ten-pound note to
change twice--and I was obliged to buy everything for her and the little
girl, for they hadn't a rag with them, except what they stood up in. I
was as careful as I could be, but the money went, and now she talks of
selling some jewels and things she brought with her. Oh, sir! if you
could find their friends!'

As may be supposed, Rowland had some difficulty in controlling his
emotion during this recital. When Mrs Saunders paused, he said,--

'I have every reason to believe that I know this poor lady, and, if you
will trust me to go to her, I am sure that I shall be of service. I must
go quite alone. You may depend upon my having a right to do this.'

'Whatever you do, sir, is sure to be right and kind. If you will take it
upon yourself I shall be only too glad. You know the room, sir? the one
where you used to go and see my poor husband.'

Rowland was upstairs immediately. Almost before he reached the door, a
pale, haggard face peered out of it.

'It is--it is Howel!' cried poor Netta, rushing into the gloomy passage,
and throwing her arms round Rowland's neck.

'No, Netta--dearest Netta! it is I, Rowland--your brother,' said
Rowland, supporting his fainting sister back into the room.

'Uncle! Uncle Rowland! I am so glad!' exclaimed a little voice, as
Minette ran towards him and clasped his knees.

As, the glare of the gas by which the room was lighted fell upon Netta's
face, Rowland half believed that it was the corpse of his once blooming
sister that he was placing on the sofa.

'Fetch som