of good Mr. Hartopp. Well, you see, I have my sweet Sophy back again; we
are in the home of all others I most longed for; and that woman, yes, I
can, at least, thus far, confide to you my secrets, so that you may not
blame yourself for sending her to Gatesboro',--that very woman knows of
my shelter; furnished me with the very reference necessary to obtain it;
has freed my grandchild from a loathsome bondage, which I could not have
legally resisted; and should new persecutions chase us will watch and
warn and help us. And if you ask me how this change in her was effected;
how, when we had abandoned all hope of green fields, and deemed that only
in the crowd of a city we could escape those who pursued us when
discovered there, though I fancied myself an adept in disguise, and the
child and the dog were never seen out of the four garret walls in which I
hid them,--if you ask me, I say, to explain how that very woman was
suddenly converted from a remorseless foe into a saving guardian, I can
only answer 'By no wit, no device, no persuasive art of mine. Providence
softened her heart, and made it kind, just at a moment when no other
agency on earth could have rescued us from--from--"

"Say no more: I guess! the paper this woman showed me was a legal form
authorizing your poor little Sophy to be given up to the care of a
father. I guess! of that father you would not speak ill to me; yet from
that father you would save your grandchild. Say no more. And yon quiet
home, your humble employment, really content you?"

"Oh, if such a life can but last! Sophy is so well, so cheerful, so
happy. Did not you bear her singing the other day? She never used to
sing! But we had not been here a week when song broke out from her,--
untaught, as from a bird. But if any ill report of me travel hither from
Gatesboro' or elsewhere, we should be sent away, and the bird would be
mute in my thorn-tree: Sophy would sing no more."