She could not tell him, and after some further conversation, and hearing a brief sketch of her life, her visitor rose to go. “Mr. Tytherleigh,” said Fan, “I remember something now I wish to tell you. One day, when I was about twelve years old, I went with mother to a street near Manchester Square, where she had some work, and on the way back to Edgware Road we passed a small curious old-looking church with a churchyard crowded thick with grave-stones. It was a very narrow street, and the grave-stones were close to the pavement, and I stopped to read the words on one. Then mother said, 'That is the church I was married in, Fan, and where you were christened.' But I do not know the name of the church, nor of the street it is in.” Mr. Tytherleigh took down this information. “I shall soon find it,” he said; and promising to write or see her again in two or three days' time, he left her. She had not so long to wait. On the next day, after returning from Regent Street, she was called down to see Mr. Tytherleigh once more. “Miss Affleck,” he said, advancing with a smile to meet her, “I am very glad to be able to tell you that our inquiries have satisfied us that you are the daughter of the Margaret Affleck we advertised for. And I can now add that when we were seeking for your mother, or information of her, our real object was to find _you._” “To find me!” exclaimed Fan, starting up from her seat, a new hope in her heart. “Do you know then who my father is?” _“Was_--yes. You have no father living. I did not wish to say too much yesterday, but from the moment I saw you and heard your voice, I was satisfied that I had found the right person.” “Is it then true that I resemble my father?” “When I said that I was thinking less of your father than of your father's son.” “Then I have a brother living!” she exclaimed excitedly, an expression on her face in which anxiety and a new glad hope were strangely blended. “Have I sisters too? Oh, how I have wished to have a sister! Can you tell me?” Then suddenly her face clouded, and dropping her voice, she said, “But they will not know me--they will be ashamed to own me. I shall never see them--I shall be nothing to them!” “No, Miss Affleck, you have no sisters. Your father, Colonel Eden, had only one son, Mr. Arthur Eden, whom you know.” “Colonel Eden! Mr. Arthur Eden!” she repeated, with a strange bewildered look. “Is he my brother--Arthur--Arthur!” And while the words came like a cry of anguish from her lips, she turned away, and with hands clasped before her, took a few uncertain steps across the room, then sinking on to the sofa, burst into a great passion of tears and sobs. Mr. Tytherleigh went to the window and stared at the limited view at the back; after a while he came to her side. “Miss Affleck,” he said, “I fully believed when I came to see you that I had welcome news to tell. I am sorry to see you so much distressed.”