solicitude,
and leave her child with his healthy and affectionate nurse.

"She parted from the infant with many tears, bestowing upon him the
most passionate caresses, and pathetically urging Rachel Mornington not
to neglect the important duties she had solemnly promised to perform.

"Three months had scarcely elapsed before the young heir of Moncton was
consigned to the family vault; and Sir Alexander and his wife were duly
apprised by Robert Moncton, who was solicitor for the family, of the
melancholy event. That this child did not come fairly by his death I
have strong reasons for suspecting, from various conversations which I
overheard when a child, pass between Robert Moncton, Dinah North, and
my mother.

"The news of their son's death, as may well be imagined, was received by
Sir Alexander and Lady Moncton with the most poignant grief; and six
years elapsed before she and her husband revisited Moncton Park.

"My mother was just recovering from her confinement with a lovely
little girl--the Alice, to whom you have often heard me allude--when
Sir Alexander and Lady Moncton arrived at the Hall. They brought with
them a delicate and beautiful infant of three months old.

"I can well remember Lady Moncton's first visit to the Lodge, to learn
from my mother's own lips the nature of the disease which had consigned
her son to his early grave. I recollect my mother telling her that the
little George went to bed in perfect health, and died in a fit during
the night, before medical aid could be procured. She shed some tears
while she said this, and assured Lady Moncton that the baby's death had
occasioned her as much grief as if he had been her own--that she would
much rather that I had died than her dear nurse-child.

"I remember, as I leant against Dinah North's knees, thinking this very
hard of my mother, and wondering why she should prefer Lady Moncton's
son to me. But, from whatever cause her aversion sprang, she certainly
never had any maternal regard for me.

"Lady Moncton drew me to her, and with her sweet, fair face bathed in
tears, told my mother that I was a beautiful boy--that her darling
would have been just my age and size, and that she could not help
envying her her child. She patted my curly head, and kissed me
repeatedly, and said that I must come often to the Hall and see her,
and she would give me pretty toys, and teach me to read.

"Ah, how I loved her! Her kind, gentle voice was the first music I