her heart, and made it kind, just at the moment when no other agency on earth could liave rescued us from—from—"
"Say no more—I guess! the paper this woman showed me was a legal form authorizing your poor little Sophy to be given up to the care of a father. I guess! of that father you would not speak ill to me; yet from that father you would save your grandchild. Say no more. And yon quiet home—your humble employment, really content you?"
"Oh, if such a life can but last! Sophy is so well, so cheer- ful, so happy. Did not you hear her singing the other day? She never used to sing! But we had not been here a week when song broke out from her untaught, as from a bird. But if any ill report of me travel hither from Gatesboro', or elsewhere, we should be sent away, and the bird would be mute in my thorn- tree—Sophy would sing no more."
"Do not fear that slander shall drive you hence. Lady Montfort, you know, is my cousin, but you know not—few do —how thoroughly generous and gentle-hearted she is. I will speak of you to her,—Oh, do not look alarmed. She will take my word when I tell her 'that is a good man;' and if she ask more, it will be enough to say, ' those who have known better days are loth to speak to strangers of the past.'"
"I thank you earnestly, sincerely," said Waife, brightening up. "One favor more—if you saw in the formal document shown to you, or retain on your memory, the name of—of the person authorized to claim Sophy as his child, you will not men- tion it to Lady Montfort. I am not sure if ever she heard that name, but she may have done so—and—and—" He paused a moment, and seemed to muse; then went on, not concluding his sentence.
"You are so good to me, Mr. Morley, that I wish to confide in you as far as I can. Now, you see I am already an old man, and my chief object is to raise up a friend for Sophy when I am gone—a friend in her own sex. Sir. Oh, you cannot guess how I long—how I yearn to view that child under the holy fostering eyes of woman. Perhaps if Lady Montfort saw my pretty Sophy she might take a fancy to her. Oh, if she did—if she did! And Sophy," added Waife, proudly, " has a right to respect. She is not like me—any hovel good enough for me. But for her!—Do you know that I conceived that hope—that the hope helped to lead me back here when, months ago, I was at Hum- berston, intent upon rescuing Sophy; and saw, though," observed Waife, with a sly twitch of the muscles round his mouth, " I had no right at that precise moment to be seeing anything—Lady
