It is almost too good to be true, though. Is it really true?" "It is, my dear," replied Muzzy. "Then," continued Lizzie, "Mary got a sweetheart, which was nice for me as well as for her, for he used to take us both out. Sometimes, you know, daddy, I wouldn't go; I pretended that I was very busy, and had a great deal to do--and they had to go out by themselves. Nearly always when they came home I had a bit of supper ready for them; and when Mary's sweetheart went away after supper, Mary used to peep through the blind, and watch him standing in the street looking at the house and up at the window as if he was so much in love with them that he couldn't go away." "As you did to-night, Lizzie, when you came in." She gave him a sly happy look. "Yes, as I did to-night, daddy. I haven't much more to tell. Mary got married, and then I came here to live, and that's the end of my story." "That picture in your room," he said, "is the portrait of your aunt, I suppose." "Yes, but you will scarcely recognise her by it when you see her. She is not like the same woman. She has had some great trouble, I am sure, although she never speaks of it. I have tried often to imagine what it must have been, but I have never been able to find out." "And Mary--is she happy?" "O, yes, very, very happy. She will have a baby soon." A soft light stole into her face, and her fingers closed tenderly on the locket hanging at her bosom. Muzzy noticed the action. "That's a new locket, Lizzie." "Yes; Some One gave it to me. If I am to live with you as your daughter, you ought to know his name." "What is it?" he asked, seeing that Lizzie expected him to take an interest in her lover. "Alfred. Isn't it a nice name?" "Yes," he muttered, in a slightly troubled voice. She took the locket from her neck, and handed it to him. He opened it, and gazed at it long and earnestly, and in deep silence. Perhaps it was the prospect of the new life that was before him that caused him to start when Lizzie addressed him presently, and to look around him with the bewildered air of one suddenly aroused from sleep. "You are tired, daddy," she said, taking the locket from his hand; "it is time to go to bed." He bade her good-night, almost mechanically, and when he was alone, sank into his chair, with an oppression of vague thought upon him. Long before he retired to rest, Lizzie was asleep, dreaming of her Lover. CHAPTER XXII. LOVE LINKS.