from which you can pay what you think proper for the child. You can
purchase what is needful for her, and you will have an income for
yourself. That I beg you accept in return for the services you have
rendered me."

Dr. Letsom expressed his gratitude. He thanked Lord Charlewood and began
at once to look around for some one who would be a fitting person to
take care of little Madaline. Lord Charlewood had expressed a desire to
see all settled before leaving for Italy.

Among the doctor's patients was one who had interested him very
much--Margaret Dornham. She had been a lady's-maid. She was a pretty,
graceful woman, gentle and intelligent--worthy of a far better lot than
had fallen to her share. She ought to have married a well-to-do
tradesman, for whom she would have made a most suitable wife; but she
had given her love to a handsome ne'er do well, with whom she had never
had one moment of peace or happiness. Henry Dornham had never borne a
good character; he had a dark, handsome face--a certain kind of rich,
gypsy-like beauty--but no other qualifications. He was neither
industrious, nor honest, nor sober. His handsome face, his dark eyes,
and rich curling hair had won the heart of the pretty, graceful, gentle
lady's-maid, and she had married him--only to rue the day and hour in
which she had first seen him.

They lived in a picturesque little cottage called Ashwood, and there
Margaret Dornham passed through the greatest joy and greatest sorrow of
her life. Her little child, the one gleam of sunshine that her darkened
life had ever known, was born in the little cottage, and there it had
died.