grave!"

"And where is that grave?" cried the colonel earnestly, who had been an
interested spectator of all that passed.

"Even where the wife of your youth is buried, your honour," answered
John Bell; "you have with you one son--behold his twin brother!"

The colonel pressed his new-found son to his breast. With his children
he sat down on the stone over Maria's grave, and they wept together.

Our tale is told. Colonel Morris and his sons had met. His elder
brothers died, and he became the heir of his father's property. Mr. Sim
also stated that, in his will, he should divide his substance equally
between the brothers; and he did so. I have but another word to add.
George forgot not Caroline Paling, who had assisted him when his heart
was full and his pocket empty, and within twelve months he again visited
Dartmouth; but when he returned from it, Caroline accompanied him as his
wife; and when he introduced her to his father and his brother--"Behold,"
said he, "what a halfpenny, delicately tendered, may produce."

THE STORY OF THE GIRL FORGER.

It is a common thing for writers of a certain class, when they want to
produce the feeling of wonder in their readers, to introduce some
frantic action, and then to account for it by letting out the secret
that the actor was mad. The trick is not so necessary as it seems, for
the strength of human passions is a potentiality only limited by
experience; and so it is that a sane person may under certain stimulants
do the maddest thing in the world. The passion itself is always true--it
is only the motive that may be false; and therefore it is that in
narrating for your amusement, perhaps I may add instruction, the
following singular story--traces of the main parts of which I got in the
old books of a former procurator-fiscal--I assume that there was no more
insanity in the principal actor, Euphemia, or, as she was called, Effie
Carr, when she brought herself within the arms of the law, than there is
in you, when now you are reading the story of her strange life. She was
the only daughter of John Carr, a grain merchant, who lived in Bristo
Street. It would be easy to ascribe to her all the ordinary and
extraordinary charms that are thought so necessary to embellish
heroines; but as we are not told what these were in her case, we must be
contented with the assurance that nature had been kind enough to her to
give her power over the hearts of men. We shall be nearer our pu