entally. "God help me now!--upon her verdict every
thing depends."

I met Mabel on the stairway as I ascended to my chamber. She hung about
my neck, in a childish way she had, and kissed me fondly. Perhaps she
had observed my agitated face, in which many emotions contended,
probably (as in my heart), but I only said, "Let me pass now,
darling!--One thing will," I thought, "be secure, under the
contemplated circumstances--your welfare and education, whatever else
betide--beautiful, and good as an angel, you shall be wise as well."

"Oh! I forgot to tell you, sister Miriam," she cried, running up-stairs,
after we had parted, "Evelyn has gone out, and left this note for you;"
and she placed one in my hand, adding:

"Mr. Claude Bainrothe was here, while you were in the library with his
father, and they went away together."

"Where did she receive him, Mabel?--the parlors are closed, you know."

"Yes, but she was all ready when he came. It was an appointment, I think
he said, to take a walk, and he stood at the front-door, until she went
down, only five minutes, sister Miriam. He did not mind it at all. He
sent her up the letter he had brought from the office, and she read it
out loud to Mrs. Austin. I was there--it was very short."

"What letter, Mabel?"

"Oh, about her aunt! This note tells you, I suppose. Evelyn is rich now;
but she had to go to New York to see the lawyer, so Mr. Claude Bainrothe
said, before she could claim the fortune."

More and more bewildered, I made haste to tear open the sealed note
which Mabel had given me. Its contents were scanty, and not fully
satisfactory.

"MY DEAR MIRIAM: The ways of Providence are truly strange and
inscrutable, and its balance ever shifting. This morning I rose in
despair, to-night I shall lie down rejoicing; for a way is again opened
to us that will put it beyond _his_ power to annoy or oppress us
further. God knows we have both suffered enough, already, at his hands!
My maiden aunt, Lady Frances Pomfret, is dead, and makes me her heir. I
will show you the lawyer's letter when I return. The legacy is spoken of
in the letter as small, because English people compute property so
differently from ourselves. The attorney lives in New York, who is
empowered by my aunt's English executor to transact this business, and
it seems I; must go to him, Mohammed-like, as this mountain cannot come
to me.

"Claude Bainrothe is polite enough to offer to escort me to the boat,
w