aine; "and, till the day of my
brother's death, I did not cease to regret his marriage. Why didn't you
write to me, Kate?"

"She would not let me."

"Why didn't you tell Mr. Windleton about the treatment you received?"

"It wasn't so bad till after Mr. Windleton went to Europe."

"We will have it made right at once. I have done some business for
Windleton during his absence; for he was a friend of mine, as well as of
my brother. He will be shocked when he hears of this business. I expect
him back the next steamer, due to-day or to-morrow. I shall go and see
this woman as soon as he returns."

"But I don't want to go back to her, uncle Freeman," said Kate, with a
suppressed shudder.

"You shall not; you shall live with me, if you are so disposed."

"O, uncle!"

Kate cried; I am sure I don't know why, for there was certainly nothing
to cry about. Mrs. Macombe, I know, was sorry that Kate was going to
live with her uncle, for she had already become very much attached to
her, and would gladly have given her a home, and been a mother to her.
When they parted, Mr. Loraine promised that his niece should visit her
at no distant day. I was taking my leave of Kate, when her uncle
interposed, and insisted that I should go with them to his residence. My
fair fellow-traveller would not permit me to leave yet, and a carriage
was called, in which we started for Madison Place.

The ride was not so long as the one we had taken on the preceding
evening. Kate was warmly welcomed by Mrs. Loraine and her family; and
when I saw the kindness that beamed in their eyes, and was reflected
from their actions, I was confident that Kate had found a good
home--that best of earthly blessings. I was sorry to part with her;
indeed, I did not know how strongly I was interested in her until the
hour of separation came. I bade good by to the family, and she followed
me to the street door.

"I don't want you to go, Ernest Thornton," said she, calling me, as she
invariably did, by my full name.

"I don't want to go, Kate; but you know what work I have on my hands," I
replied.

"Cannot my uncle help you? I know he would be willing to do so," she
asked.

"I don't think I need any more help. If Tom Thornton troubles me any
more, I shall apply to him. But I think I have given Tom his quietus for
the present. He will carry a sore head around with him for some time.
But I must go now. The steamer sails to-morrow, you know."

"Shall I not see yo