oftly drawn regular breath of profound slumber, and
the smile which some pleasant thought had conjured up before he closed
his eyes still lingered round his mouth. Katherine longed to kiss him,
but feared to break his profound and restful slumbers. She passed to
Charlie. His attitude was quite different. He had thrown the clothes
from his chest, and his pinky white throat was bare; one little hand lay
open on the page of a picture-book at which he had been looking when
sleep overtook him; the other was under his soft round cheek; his sweet
and still baby face was grave if not sad. He looked like a little angel
who had brought a message to earth, and was grieved and wearied by the
sin and sorrow here below. Katherine's heart swelled with tenderest love
as she gazed upon him, and unconsciously she bent closer till her lips
touched his brow. Then a little hand stole into hers, and, without
moving, as though he had expected her, he opened his eyes and whispered,
"Will you come and kiss me every night, as grannie did?"

"I will, my darling, every night."

"Will grannie _never_ come and kiss me again?"

"Never, Charlie! She will never come to either of us in this life." A
big tear fell on the boy's forehead.

"Don't cry, auntie; she loves us all the same." And he kissed the fair
cheek which now lay against his own as his aunt knelt beside his bed.

"Go to sleep, dear love; to-morrow you shall take me to see your garden
and the pony."

"You will be sure to come?"

"Yes, quite sure."

In a few minutes the clasp of the warm little hand relaxed, and
Katherine gently disengaged herself.

"The boys are no longer first in their mother's heart," thought
Katherine, as she returned to the drawing-room. "Were they ever first?
They are--they might become all the world to me. They might fill my life
and give it a fresh aspect. The new ties at which Mr. Newton hinted can
never exist for me. Could I accept an honorable man and live with a
perpetual secret between us? Could I ever confess? No. My most hopeful
scheme is to be a mother to these children. And oh! I do want to be
happy, to feel the joy in life that used to lift up my spirit in the old
days when we were struggling with poverty! I _will_ throw off this load
of self-contempt. I have not really injured any one."

In the drawing-room Colonel Ormonde was seated beside Lady Alice, making
conversation to the best of his ability. She looked serenely content,
and held a piece