believed it; and there the child dragged on an existence miserable enough even to satisfy us, until a widow lady, residing then at Chester, saw the girl by chance, pitied her, and took her home. There was some cursed spell against us, for in spite of all our efforts she remained there and was happy: I lost sight of her two or three years ago, and saw her no more until a few months back."
"Do you see her now?"
"Yes—leaning on your arm."
"But not the less my niece," cried Mrs. Maylie, folding the fainting girl in her arms,—"not the less my dearest child. I would not lose her now for all the treasures of the world. My sweet companion, my own dear girl—"
"The only friend I ever had," cried Rose, clinging to her,—"the kindest, best of friends. My heart will burst. I cannot—cannot—bear all this."
"You have borne more, and been through all the best and gentlest creature that ever shed happiness on every one she knew," said Mrs. Maylie, embracing her tenderly. "Come, come, my love,
