d, stretched out
stiff, was thrust against the floats of the water-wheel, as if, even
in death, she remembered her hate against the family whose fortune had
risen upon her overthrow!

CHAPTER XVIII.

Mark and Mr. Alford, after their disagreeable interview with the
Clamps, went to see Mr. Hardwick, whom they wished to congratulate. At
the door they were met by Lizzie, whose sad face said, "Hush!" Mark's
spirits fell instantly. "Is he worse?" he asked. A tear was the only
answer. He asked Mr. Alford to go for Mildred. "She has just come,"
said Lizzie.

They found Mr. Hardwick propped up in bed, whence he could look out of
the window. The church-spire rose on the one hand, and on the other
the chimney of the shop was seen above the trees on the river-bank. By
night the column of sparks had gladdened his eye, as he thought of the
cheerful industry of his sons. Mark tenderly pressed his uncle's hand,
and leaned over him with an affectionate, sorrowing interest.

"Der-don't take it to heart, my boy," said Mr. Hardwick. "I am very
h-happy."

"I am glad that the boys won't lose the shop," said Mark. "I see you
are looking out to the chimney."

"Yer-yes, it was thoughtful of Mr. Kinloch, and a special
Pr-Providence that the will was found."

"You know he mentioned his claim against me," said Mark; "that is
paid, and it doesn't matter; but I can't guess the reason for the
unusual kindness he has shown towards me."

The old man answered slowly, for his breathing was difficult and often
painful.

"It is an old story,--old as the dried f-flowers that Mildred told me
of,--but it had a f-fragrance once. Yer-your mother, Mark, was as
per-pretty a girl as you'd often see. Walter Kinloch ler-loved her,
and she him. He sailed to the Indies, an' some der-diff'culty
happened, so that the letters stopped. I d-don't know how 'twas. But
arter a while sh-she married your father. Mr. Kinloch, he m-married,
too; but I guess he nun-never forgot the girl of his choice."

Mark grasped his young wife's hand, at this tale of years gone by.

"The lock of hair and the rose were your mother's, then!" she
whispered. "Dear father! faithful, even in death, to his friends, and
to the memory of his first love! How much suffering and crime would
have been prevented, if he could only have uttered the words which his
heart prompted!"

"God forgive the woman!" said Mr. Hardwick, solemnly. None knew then
how much she had need of forgiveness, sta