when he died, and her only brother was nearly fourteen. The eldest and
youngest of Mrs. Liddell's children were the survivors of several.

Katherine's memory of her childish days presented the dim picture of a
quaint foreign town; of blue skies, bright sunshine, and abundant
vegetation; of large rooms and a smiling black-eyed attendant in a
peculiar head-dress; of some one lying back in a large chair, near whom
she must never make a noise. Then came a change; mother always in black,
with a white cap, and often weeping, and of colder winters, snow and
skating--a happy time, for she was always with mother both in lesson and
play time, whilst Fred used to go away early to school. Next, clear and
distinct, was the recollection of her first visit to London, and from
this time she was the companion and confidante of her mother. They were
poor--at least every outlay had to be carefully considered--but Katie
never knew the want of money. Then came the excitement and preparation
attending Fred's departure for India, the mixture of sorrow and
satisfaction with which her mother parted from him, of how bitterly she
had cried herself; for though somewhat tyrannical, Fred had been always
kind and generous.

How well she remembered the day he had left them never to return--how
her mother had clasped her to her heart and exclaimed: "You must be all
in all to me now, Katie. I have done but little for you yet, dear, Fred
needed so much."

A spell of happy, busy life in Germany followed, enlivened by long
letters from the young Indian officer, whose career seemed full of
promise. But when Katherine was a little more than thirteen sorrow fell
upon them. Fred's letters had become irregular; then came a confession
of weakness and debt, crowned by the supreme folly of marriage,