chest heiresses in England. But it is all yours now, dear
Herman. When I closed my poor father's eyes my hand was still too stiff
to wield a pen! And still, though there was no longer any reason for
mystery, I felt that I would rather come to you at once than employ the
pen of another to write. That is the reason, dear Herman, why I have
been so long silent, and why at last I arrive so unexpectedly. I hope it
is satisfactory. But what is the matter, Herman? You do not seem to be
yourself! You have not welcomed me! you have not kissed me! you have not
even called me by my name, since I first came in! Oh! can it be possible
that after all you are not glad to see me?" she exclaimed, rising from
her caressing posture and standing sorrowfully before him. Her face that
had looked pale and sad from the first was now convulsed by some passing
anguish.

He looked at that suffering face, then covered his eyes with his hands
and groaned.

"What is this, Herman? Are you sorry that I have come? Do you no longer
love me? What is the matter? Oh, speak to me!"

"The matter is--ruin! I am a felon, my lady! And it were better that you
had been crushed to death in that railway collision than lived to rejoin
me here! I am a wretch, too base to live! And I wish the earth would
open beneath our feet and swallow us!"

The lady stepped back, appalled, and before she could think of a reply,
the door opened and Mrs. Brudenell, who had been, awakened by the
disturbance, sailed into the room.

"It is my mother!" said the young man, struggling for composure. And
rising, he took the hand of the stranger and led her to the elder lady,
saying:

"This is the Countess of Hurstmonceux, madam; I commend her to your
care."

And having done this, he turned and abruptly left the room and the
house.

CHAPTER IX.

THE VICTIM.

Good hath been born of Evil, many times,
As pearls and precious ambergris are grown,
Fruits of disease in pain and sickness sown,
So think not to unravel, in thy thought,
This mingled tissue, this mysterious plan,
The Alchemy of Good through Evil wrought.

--_Tupper_.

"But one more day, Hannah! but one more day!" gayly exclaimed Nora
Worth, as she busied herself in setting the room in order on Friday
morning.

"Yes, but one more day in any event! For even if the weather should
change in this uncertain season of the year, and a heavy fall of snow
should stop Mrs. Brudenell's journey, that sh