r to look in
the glass. Half mechanically, Lyle did as requested, but at the first
glance at the face reflected there, she uttered a low cry, and stood
as if transfixed. Miss Gladden had arranged her hair in a style worn
nearly twenty years before, and in imitation of the photograph which
Jack had shown her. The effect was magical, as it showed Lyle's face
to be an exact counterpart of the beautiful pictured face.

To Lyle it revealed much more, for to her astonished gaze there was
brought back, with life-like distinctness and realism, the face of her
dreams; the one which she had seen bending tenderly over her since her
earliest recollection, and which had seemed so often to comfort her in
the days of her childish griefs when she had sobbed herself to sleep.

Suddenly, Miss Gladden saw the face in the glass grow deathly white,
and Lyle, quickly turning toward her friend, exclaimed:

"I see it now! That is my mother's face that I have seen in my dreams!
And I have seen it living some time, somewhere, but not here. These
people are not my parents; I am no child of theirs. Oh, Leslie, tell
me, is this true?"

Very gently Miss Gladden soothed the excited girl, telling her that
while her friends knew nothing as yet, for a certainty, regarding her
parentage, they felt that she, in her early life, had had a home and
surroundings far different from those she knew here, and that they
hoped ere long, with her help, to arrive at the whole truth.

"But how did I ever come to live here with these people?" inquired
Lyle, a new fear dawning in her eyes, "do you suppose they were hired
to take me?"

"No, never," said Miss Gladden, "as nearly as we can judge, you must
have been stolen."

"And do you think my own parents are now living?" she asked.

So far as she was able to do so, Miss Gladden explained the situation,
as Jack had told it to her, making no reference, however, to what he
had said regarding the possibility of Lyle's friends coming to the
mountains, where they would be likely to recognize her. Of this, Miss
Gladden herself understood so little, she thought best not to allude
to it now.

"But why has Jack never told me of this, and of my mother? He must
have known her," said Lyle.

"You must remember, dear, that he had no proof that any such relation
really existed; as I understood him, he with others, supposed that
this child was not living, but he was struck with the resemblance
between you and the mother of