your future
years. But my dear uncle," he continued, very slowly, "although you
are yet unaware of it, you have nearly as much, if not an equal cause
for joy in another direction."

"I do not understand you, Everard; you surely do not allude to the
property?"

"No, very far from that; did you notice the young girl who came into
Guy's room to-night?"

"To bring the light?"

"The same."

"Yes, and I intended to inquire of you concerning her. Her face
impressed me strangely; I cannot tell whether it was a fact or my own
imagination, but I had been thinking of the children,--Guy and his
sister,--as they were years ago, and it seemed to me that her face, as
I saw it for an instant, was almost an exact counterpart of my own
Edna's, as she used to look, even to the hair and eyes which were very
peculiar."

"It was no imagination on your part, the resemblance is very marked,
not only in face, but in voice and manner as well."

"How do you account for it?" asked Mr. Cameron quickly, "Who is she?"

"She is the one who, of all the world, would have the best right to
resemble your daughter," replied Houston; then, in answer to Mr.
Cameron's look of perplexed inquiry, he continued:

"Pardon me, uncle, for any painful allusion, but at the time of my
cousin's death, I believe you had no direct proof as to the fate of
her child?"

"No absolute proof, of course," replied Mr. Cameron, "only the
testimony of those who identified the mother, that there was no child
with her, and no child among any of those saved answering to the
description given, from which we naturally supposed the little one to
have been killed outright. Why, Everard," he exclaimed, as a new
thought occurred to him, "you certainly do not think this Edna's
child, do you?"

"Why might it not be possible?" inquired Houston, wishing to lead his
uncle gradually up to the truth.

"Is this her home?" asked Mr. Cameron in turn.

"Yes," said Houston, "this has been her home, I believe, for the last
ten years."

"If the supposition mentioned a moment ago were correct, how would she
be here, amid such surroundings?"

"Do you know the man who runs this house?" Houston asked.

"A man by the name of Maverick had charge of it when I was out here
years ago; I do not know whether he is still here."

"He is; do you know him? Did you ever have any business with him
personally?"

"Yes, I had him in my employ years ago, in the east, and was obliged
to discharge h