Jessy, supposing his words caused by the delirium of illness, gently took the faded hand he tried to offer, and he continued. “Years have passed over thee, my daughter. Thou lookest scarce older or less fair than when thou wert wont to trip about thy father’s halls, ere trouble visited us. Time has not dealt so lightly with thy husband and myself. See how thine absence has wasted me until I am dying to-day. Alice, thou must have been happier than we have been during thy separation.” Surprised at these words, Jessy turned toward the other stranger. “He mistakes me for another,” said she. “Well might I too believe that thou art she,” replied the person addressed, regarding her fixedly in an absent manner, and speaking as if to himself. “Maiden,” said he, suddenly, shaking off for a moment his waking dream, and advancing a step nearer to her, “by what name do they call thee?” “I am known as Jessy Ellet, sir,” she replied, modestly. “Whom do I so much resemble?” The person spoken to did not apparently hear the query. His whole senses seemed absorbed in the one sense of sight; and he continued to gaze upon her until, in spite of all his efforts at self-control, he seemed almost completely overcome by some feelings of extraordinary emotion. Jessy looked in surprise at his working features for a moment, and she felt her nature melt in a flow of generous sympathy toward him, as she tremulously and apprehensively repeated her question. “Whom dost thou resemble?” he said at length. “Thine own mother, my daughter—my wife and the child of that dying man. Behold your father and grandfather in the unhappy beings before you. Come, my child, to this long-forsaken bosom.” And he stretched out his arms to receive her. There was a moment’s doubt on the part of Jessy; but a mysterious instinct convinced her of the truth of the words she had heard; and the next moment her arms were about the neck of the stranger, and her voice was uttering through sobs and tears the endearing name of father. After a while, gently disengaging herself from his embrace, she knelt down by the side of the aged sufferer, and bathed his feeble hands with her tears. The old man seemed to have no part in the recognition which had taken place. His imagination mistook the gentle creature before him for the lost child of his memory. He appeared now to be sinking rapidly, and as the father and daughter sat with full hearts in the consciousness of being thus united, and listened to his labored respirations, the sound of approaching carriage-wheels slightly shook the house. It ceased, and a vehicle stopped at the door. A few moments more, and a creaking was heard upon the stairs. Presently after, a step fell upon the floor of the room, and a female figure softly advanced. The father and daughter started simultaneously, and rushed toward her. In a moment the arms of both were around her, and the heroic Alice Heath was at length restored to her husband and child.