ower of living on some
delicate frames seem to have. As soon as she was able to sit up, I began
to think that it would be better to remove her from the strange country,
the theatre of her dreadful sufferings, and to bring her to her own
native land, among her own friends and relatives, where she might resume
the life and habits of her girlhood, and where, with nothing to remind
her of her loss, she might gradually come to look upon the few wretched
months of her marriage, passed in England, as a dark dream. Therefore I
have brought her back."

"And you, my dear child," she said, "you were Michael Shields' sister?"

"No, madam, no kin to him--and yet more than kin--for he loved me, and I
loved him more than any one else in the world, as I now love his poor
young widow. This was the way of it, Mrs. Waugh: Michael's father and my
mother had both been married before, and we were children of the first
marriages; when Michael was fourteen years old, and I was seven, our
parents were united, and we grew up together. About two years ago,
Michael's father died. My mother survived him only five months, and
departed, leaving me in charge of her stepson. We had no friends but
each other. Our parents, since their union, had been isolated beings,
for this reason--his father was a Jew--my mother a Christian--therefore
the friends and relatives on either side were everlastingly offended by
their marriage. Therefore we had no one but each other. The little
property that was left was sold, and the proceeds enabled Michael to
purchase a commission in the regiment about to sail for America, and
also to place me at a good boarding school, where I remained until his
return, and the catastrophe that followed it.

"Lady, all passed so suddenly, that I knew no word of his return, much
less of his trial or execution, until I received a visit from the
chaplain who had attended his last moments, and who brought me his
farewell letter, and his last informal will, in which the poor fellow
consigned me to the care of his wife, soon to be a widow, and enjoined
me to leave school and seek her at once, and inclosed a check for the
little balance he had in bank. I went immediately, found her insensible
through grief, as I said--and, lady, I told you the rest."

Henrietta was weeping softly behind the handkerchief she held at her
eyes. At last she repeated:

"You say he left you in his widow's charge?"

"Yes, madam."

"Left his widow in yours, rat