"One now dead, sir; dead many years ago. But it is a long story, and one
that lies heavy on my conscience. Some day or other, if you will give me
leave, sir, I will unburden myself to you."

"If I can assist you in anyway, command me. Meanwhile, have you no
friends, no relations, no children, whom you would wish to see?"

"Children!--no, sir; I never had but one child of _my own_ (she laid an
emphasis on the last words), and that died in a foreign land."

"And no other relatives?"

"None, sir. My history is very short and simple. I was well brought
up,--an only child. My father was a small farmer; he died when I was
sixteen, and I went into service with a kind old lady and her daughter,
who treated me more as a companion than a servant. I was a vain, giddy
girl, then, sir. A young man, the son of a neighbouring farmer, courted
me, and I was much attached to him; but neither of us had money, and his
parents would not give their consent to our marrying. I was silly enough
to think that, if William loved me, he should have braved all; and his
prudence mortified me, so I married another whom I did not love. I was
rightly punished, for he ill-used me and took to drinking; I returned to
my old service to escape from him--for I was with child, and my life was
in danger from his violence. He died suddenly, and in debt. And then,
afterwards, a gentleman--a rich gentleman--to whom I rendered a service
(do not misunderstand me, sir, if I say the service was one of which I
repent), gave me money, and made me rich enough to marry my first lover;
and William and I went to America. We lived many years in New York upon
our little fortune comfortably; and I was a long while happy, for I had
always loved William dearly. My first affliction was the death of my