have felt that he was a good man--then said, gently but determinedly,

"If Dr. Grey has no objection, I should like to have stated my father's
occupation or my own. I do not wish to hide or appear ashamed of
either."

"Certainly not," replied Dr. Grey; and, taking up the pen, he added,
"Edward Oakley, Esq., late organist of Saint Bede's." It was the last
earthly memento of one who, born a gentleman and a genius, had so
lived, that, as all Avonsbridge well knew, the greatest blessing which
could have happened to his daughter was his death. But, as by some
strange and merciful law of compensation often occurs, Christian,
inheriting mind and person from him, had inherited temperament,
disposition, character from the lowly-born mother, who was every thing
that he was not, and who had lived just long enough to stamp on the
girl of thirteen a moral impress which could resist all contamination,
and leave behind a lovely dream of motherhood that might, perhaps--
God knows!--have been diviner than the reality.

These things Dr. Grey, brought accidentally into contact with Christian
Oakley on business matters after her father's lamentable death, speedily
discovered for himself; and the result was one of those sudden resolves
which in some men spring from mere passion, in others from an
instinct so deep and true that they are not to be judged by ordinary
rules. People call it "love at first sight," and sometimes tell wonderful
stories of how a man sees, quite unexpectedly, some sweet, strange, and
yet mysteriously familiar face, which takes possession of his fancy with
an almost supernatural force. He says to himself, "That woman shall be
my wife;" and some day, months or years after, he actually marries her;
even as, within a twelvemonth, having waited silently until she was