entered the mansion, and timidly asked
leave to speak to Lady Roberts.

The servant she addressed had known her husband, and pitied her distress;
and, fearing lest Sir George might pass, he led her into his pantry,
watching an opportunity to let the lady know of her being there.

After a time Lady Roberts' maid came, and beckoned her to follow
up-stairs. In a few moments the soft voice of the lady of the mansion was
cheering her with kind words, and encouraging her to disclose her wishes.

Before she had concluded, a step was heard without, at which the lady
started and turned pale. Before there was time for retreat Sir George
hastily entered the apartment.

"Who have you here, Lady Roberts?"

"One who has a request to make, I believe," said the lady, mildly. "I
wish a few moments with her."

"Have the goodness to walk out of this house," said the baronet to Susan.
"Lady Roberts, I know this woman and I will not allow you to harbor such
people here."

Although the convict's wife never again ventured into that house, her
wants, and those of her child, were, during three years, ministered to by
the secret agency of the Good Heart that lived so sadly there; and when,
at the expiration of that period, Lady Roberts died, a trusty messenger
brought to the cottage a little legacy--sufficient, if ever news came of
Martin, to enable the wife and child, from whom he was separated, to make
their way across the earth, and to meet him again.

But during those weary years no tidings of his fate had reached either
his wife or Alfred Gray--to whom he had promised to write when he reached
his destination. Another year dragged its slow course over the home of
affliction, and poor Susan's hopes grew fainter day by day. Her sinking
frame gave evidence of the sickness that cometh from the heart.

One summer evening, in the next year, Alfred Gray, entered his uncle's
garden with a letter, and was soon seated in the summer-house reading it
aloud to his uncle and Martha. Tears stood in the old man's eyes, as some
touching detail of suffering or privation was related. And, indeed, the
letter told of little beside. It was from Martin. Soon after his arrival
in the settlement, Martin had written to Alfred, but the letter had never
reached England--not an unusual occurrence in those times. After waiting
long, and getting no reply, he was driven by harsh treatment, and the
degradation attending the life he led, to attempt, with old Ralph,