Miss Thane had all along understood that a meeting with her mother's only and twin sister, either by accident or design, was quite within the scope of possibilities. She had even regarded it as perhaps the brightest prospect which the future afforded her, in case her present experiment in life should fail to give her satisfaction, or her heart should suddenly utter an importunate cry for that cup of cold water of human affection, which is only to be tasted in the society of one's own kin. Amid the gray monotony of her existence, she had often pictured that meeting to herself in a variety of pleasant coloring and dramatic shapes; but never, it is safe to say, in the solemn lights and sober shadows in which it finally took its place among the memorable scenes of her life. Yet in no other way could it have operated so powerfully to awaken the instinct of kinship within her, to melt her reserve, to draw out her dormant sympathies,--in short, to call forth whatever was deepest, richest, and womanliest in her nature. And certainly, in no other way could it have brought so strong and subtle an influence to bear upon the sombre doubts and chill infidelities of her mind; setting over against her cool, speculative belief in a blind Chance or an inflexible Fate, Mrs. Lyte's calm trust in the goodness of God's providence, against the blighting, chilling, unbeauteous effects of suffering on her own heart, the gracious fruitage of patience, contentment, and love, ripening under its touch in Mrs. Lyte's, against her own dim outlook into an unknown future, her aunt's firm expectation of the eternal weight of glory. The contrast was too striking not to be noticed, its testimony in favor of faith over unbelief too strong to be ignored. Daily, as she watched by her aunt's bedside, questions that she had once settled, or laid aside as incapable of settlement, came up again, to be examined in new and diviner lights. Daily the good work which Bergan had been instrumental in beginning in her heart, went forward,--not like the work of doubt, tearing down what it could not rebuild, and taking away bread to give a stone,--but bringing order out of confusion, proportion out of inequality, solidity out of disintegration.