and although there was anxiety enough in the household, there was,
perhaps, more of peace than there had been for years, for Mrs Wilson
had not a bad heart, and was softened by the visible approach of death
to one whom she loved, and touched by the lonely condition of the
young creature expecting her first confinement in her husband's
absence. To this relenting mood Norah owed the permission to come
and nurse Alice when her baby was born, and to remain and attend on
Captain Wilson.

Before one letter had been received from Frank (who had sailed for
the East Indies and China), his father died. Alice was always glad to
remember that he had held her baby in his arms, and kissed and blessed
it before his death. After that, and the consequent examination into
the state of his affairs, it was found that he had left far less
property than people had been led by his style of living to expect;
and what money there was, was settled all upon his wife, and at her
disposal after her death. This did not signify much to Alice, as Frank
was now first mate of his ship, and, in another voyage or two, would
be captain. Meanwhile he had left her rather more than two hundred
pounds (all his savings) in the bank.

It became time for Alice to hear from her husband. One letter from the
Cape she had already received. The next was to announce his arrival in
India. As week after week passed over, and no intelligence of the ship
having got there reached the office of the owners, and the captain's
wife was in the same state of ignorant suspense as Alice herself, her
fears grew most oppressive. At length the day came when, in reply to
her inquiry at the shipping office, they told her that the owners had
given up hope of ever hearing more of the _Betsy-Jane_ and had sent in
their claim upon the underwriters. Now that he was gone for ever,
she first felt a yearning, longing love for the kind cousin, the
dear friend, the sympathizing protector, whom she should never see
again;--first felt a passionate desire to show him his child, whom
she had hitherto rather craved to have all to herself--her own sole
possession. Her grief was, however, noiseless and quiet--rather to the
scandal of Mrs Wilson who bewailed her stepson as if he and she had
always lived together in perfect harmony, and who evidently thought
it her duty to burst into fresh tears at every strange face she
saw; dwelling on his poor young widow's desolate state, and the
helplessness of the