and carefully closing this, I approached the table and attempted to open
the drawers. I tried the first one,--it was locked; the second,--and met
with no better success. Almost in despair, I placed my hands on the
third, and that finally yielded to my efforts. I beheld heterogeneous
rows of pins, papers of needles, &c., and was about to shut it in
disappointment, when my glance fell on a small box. Small,
mysterious-looking boxes always possessed a talismanic attraction in my
eyes; and the next moment I was busily at work examining the contents.
The round lid lifted, I found my gaze irresistibly fascinated by a
child's face, with fair, curling hair, and azure eyes. But the great
beauty lay in its expression; that was so calm, holy, and serene, that I
felt insensibly better as I gazed upon it. It was a peculiar face; and I
became so wrapt in its contemplation as to lose all hearing of what
passed around, until a step sounded close beside me.

I looked up, and fairly trembled with terror and dismay. There stood
Mr. Eylton, gazing on me in surprise, as if quite at a loss what to make
of the circumstance; but as his eye fell upon the picture, I noticed
that an expression of sadness crossed his countenance. Not knowing what
to do with myself, and almost ready to sink through the floor with
shame, I stood with bowed head and burning cheeks, the very picture of
mortification. But there was no trace of anger in Mr. Eylton's tone, as,
kindly taking me by the hand, he drew me towards him and asked me my
name. I answered as well as I could; and still holding the picture,
remained in silent consternation. Mr. Eylton took it from my hand, and
sighed as he bent a deep, loving gaze upon the fair face.

Prompted by a sudden impulse, I raised my eyes to his, as I enquired:
"Can you tell me where that little girl is now? I should _so_ like to
see her!"