aunt?--Go?--where?--who?"

"Why that girl we're all so fond of," replied Miss Jemima, growing
every moment more severe. "Mr. Algernon used to come here twice every
quarter, usedn't he? Never missed the day, did he? and paid his money
as regular as clockwork. Susannah, how long is it since he's been to
see us?"

Susannah sobbed.

"That's no answer," pursued the inflexible speaker. "Tomorrow week it
will be ten months since we have seen him; and tomorrow week it will
be ten months since we've had a scrap of his handwriting. Is that girl
to remain here, dependent on the bounty of a struggling artist and two
old maids? My opinion is that she ought to go out and gain her own
livelihood; my feeling is that--that--I couldn't bear to think of the
poor dear in any home but this."

Here the old lady, whose assumption of extreme fortitude had
been gradually leading to the inevitable catastrophe, broke down
altogether, while Susannah, giving rein to her emotions, lifted up her
voice and wept.

"You knew who she was all along, Jemima," said the latter, gulping
sadly at her syllables: "you know you did; and it's cruel to harrow up
our feelings like this."

Simon said nothing, but on his homely features gathered an expression
of resolve, through which there gleamed the bright radiance of hope.