"Eugenia!" exclaimed Mrs. Gaston, springing forward, and instantly the two were locked in each other's arms, and clinging together with convulsive eagerness. "But no, no! It cannot be my own Eugenia," said Mrs. Gaston, slowly disengaging herself, and holding the young woman from her, while she read over every feature of her pale, thin face. "Surely I am in a strange dream!" "Yes, I am your own Eugenia Ballantine! my more than mother! Or, the wreck of her, which a wave of life's ever restless ocean has heaved upon the shore." "Eugenia Ballantine! How can it be! Lost years ago at sea, how can she be in this room, and in this condition! It is impossible! And yet you are, you must be, my own dear Eugenia." "I am! I am!" sobbed the maiden, leaning her head upon the bosom of Mrs. Gaston, and weeping until tears fell in large drops upon the floor. "But the sea gives not up its dead," said Mrs. Gaston, in a doubting, bewildered tone. "True--but the sea never claimed me as a victim." "And your father?" The maiden's face flushed a moment, while a shade of anguish passed over it. "At another time, I will tell you all. My mind is now too much agitated and confused. But why do I find you here? And more than all, why as a poor seamstress, toiling for little more than a crust of bread and a cup of water? Where is your husband? Where are your children?" "Three years ago," replied Mrs. Gaston, "we removed to this city. My husband entered into business, and was unsuccessful. He lost every thing, and about a year ago died, leaving me destitute. I have struggled on, since then, the best I could, but to little purpose. The pittance I have been able to earn at the miserable prices we are paid by the tailors has scarcely sufficed to keep my children from starving. But one of them"--and the mother's voice trembled--"my sweet Ella! was not permitted to remain with me, when I could no longer provide things comfortable for my little ones. A few short weeks ago, she was taken away to a better world. It was a hard trial, but I would not have her back again. And Henry, the dear boy, you remember--I have been forced to let him go from my side out into the world. I have neither seen nor heard from him since I parted with him. Emma alone remains." Mrs. Gaston's feelings so overcame her at this relation, that she wept and sobbed for some time.