ir grasp of his chair as he
looked with startled amazement at his late client's son, visibly
trembled.

Liddell was the first to speak. "So you thought I was dead and out of
the way," he said, with a sneer; "that nothing would happen to disturb
the fortunate possessor of my father's money. I was dead and done for,
and a good riddance."

"But how--how is it that you are alive!" stammered Mr. Newton.

"Oh, that I can easily account for." And he looked round for a chair.

"Yes, pray sit down," said Mr. Newton, recovering himself.

Here Katherine, with the unconscious tact of a sensitive woman, feeling
how terrible it must be to find one's continued existence a source of
regret to others, rose and held out her hand. "Let me, your kinswoman,"
she said, "welcome you back to life and home. I hope there are many
happy years before you."

Liddell was greatly surprised. He mechanically took the hand offered to
him, and looking earnestly into her face, exclaimed, "Who are you?"

"Katherine Liddell, your uncle Frederic's daughter."

He dropped--indeed, almost threw--her hand from him. "What!" he cried,
"are _you_ the supplanter, who took all without an inquiry, without an
effort to find out if I were dead or alive?"

"Sit down--sit down--sit down," repeated Newton, still confused. "Let us
talk over everything. As to trying to find you, we never dreamed of
finding you, considering that twelve, fourteen years ago we had an
account of your death from an eye-witness."

"Cowardly liar! It was worth a Jew's ransom to see him turn white and
drop into a chair when I confronted him the day before yesterday."

"Why did you not communicate with me on hearing of your father's death?"

"When do you think I heard of it? Do you fancy I sat down in the midst
of my busy day to pore over the births, deaths, and marriages in a
paper, like a gossiping woman? Kith and kin were dead to me long ago.
What did I care for English papers? What had my life or the life of my
poor mother been that I should give those I had left behind a thought?"
He paused, and taking a chair, looked very straight at Katherine. "Now I
shall tell you my story, once for all, to show you that there is no use
in disputing my rights. You know"--addressing Newton--"how my life was
made a burden to me, and that I ran away to sea, ready to throw myself
into it rather than return to my miserable home. After several voyages I
found myself at Sydney. A young fellow who had be