gard this new acquisition of an uncle.

"Your grand-parents did suppose your uncle a soldier," I remarked, "but,
after the man was seen the mistake was discovered, and now the truth has
come out in a way that will admit of no dispute."

"How is uncle named?" demanded the niece, in a low voice, and a hesitating
manner. "Mother's brother was christened Oloff, I have heard
grandmother say."

"Very true, dear; we've been all over that, the old lady and I. They tell
me, too, I was christened by the name of Moses--I suppose you know who
Moses was, child?"

"To be sure, uncle!" said Kitty, with a little laugh of surprise. "He was
the great law-maker of the Jews."

"Ha, Miles, is that so?"

I nodded assent.

"And do you know about his being found in the bulrushes, and the story of
the king of Ethiopia's daughter?"

"The king of Egypt, you mean, do you not, uncle Oloff?" cried Kitty, with
another little laugh.

"Well, Ethiopia or Egypt; it's all pretty much the same--this girl has
been wonderfully edicated, Miles, and will turn out famous company for me,
in the long winter evenings, some twenty years hence, or when I've worked
my way up into the latitude of the dear, good, old soul under the
hill yonder."

A slight exclamation from Kitty was followed by a blush, and a change of
expression, that showed she was thinking, just at that moment, of anything
but uncle Oloff. I asked an explanation.

"It's _only_ Horace Bright, out yonder in the orchard, looking at us. He
will be puzzled to know who is with me, here, in the old chaise. Horace
thinks he can drive a horse better than any one about here, so you must be
careful how you hold the reins, or use the whip.--Horace!"

This boded no good to Marble's plans for passing the evenings of his old
age with Kitty to amuse him; but, as we were now on the brow of the hill,
with the cottage in sight, Horace Bright was soon lost to view. To do the
girl justice, she appeared now to think only of her grandmother, and of
the effects the recent discovery of her son would be likely to produce on
one of her years and infirmities. As for myself, I was surprised to see
Mr. Hardinge in earnest conversation with old Mrs. Wetmore, both seated on
the stoop of the cottage, in the mild summer's evening, and Lucy walking,
to and fro, on the short grass of the willow bottom, with an impatience
and restlessness of manner it was very unusual for her to exhibit. No
sooner was Kitty alighted, than