"It is enough," said Minnie, drawing closer to the strange woman. "What
makes you think that I am your child?"

"By this," said she, taking a miniature from her bosom. "By this, which
I carried next to my heart for more than twelve years, and never have
been without it a single day or night."

Thomas looked upon the miniature; it was an exact likeness of Minnie
when she first came to them, and although she had grown and changed
since the likeness was taken, there was too close a resemblance between
it and one which had been taken soon after she came, for him to doubt
that Minnie was the original of that likeness.

Thomas questioned the woman very closely, but her history and narrative
corresponded so well with what he had heard of Minnie's mother, that he
could not for a moment doubt that this was she, and as such he was
willing to give her the shelter of his home, till he could make other
arrangements.

"But why," said Anna, somewhat grieved at the shock, that Minnie had
received, "did thee startle her by so suddenly claiming her in the
street? Would it not have been better for thee to have waited and found
out where she lived, and then discovered thyself to her?"

"I'spect it would, 'Mam," said Ellen, very meekly and sorrowfully, "but
when I saw her and heard the young lady say, Minnie, wait a minute, I
forgot everything but that this was my long-lost child. I am sorry if I
did any harm, but I was so glad I could not help it. My heart was so
hungry for my child."