A year previous to the time at which we resume the thread of our story, Lord Montressor, by the death of a distant relative, had succeeded to the title and estates of the Earldom of Eagletower. And six months after this new accession of dignity his lordship had been ordered by the government upon a secret and most important diplomatic mission to the city of Washington. To vail the political aspect of his voyage, as well as to form a pleasant party, Lord Eagletower (as we must now call him), had invited Sir Parke and Lady Morelle and Lord Dazzleright to accompany him to the United States. The baronet and his lady, weary of Hyde Hall, needing a change, and vaguely hoping to hear of their daughter in the country in which she had been last seen, accepted the invitation. Lord Dazzleright, who had never visited America, was glad to avail himself of the present opportunity of doing so in the company of his friends. Thus it was in May, 184-, five years from the time when they had lost sight of Estelle, that the whole party sailed for the United States, where they arrived safely in June. But where meanwhile, was Estelle? The scenes that had known her, now “knew her no more.” Save in the hearts of the few who loved her, her memory seemed to have perished from the face of the earth. Yet, in the far distant, great metropolis of the western world, the poor, the sick, the imprisoned, the all-suffering, daily invoked blessings on the head of a dark-robed, lovely lady, whose beautiful pale face was seldom unvailed, save by the side of the invalid, the destitute, or the sorrowful, and whom those who gratefully remembered her in their prayers, called by the name of “Estel.” How or where this angel visitant lived, not one among her proteges knew. But, day after day, and week after week, this child of wealth, luxury and refinement might have been seen in the squalid haunts of poverty, disease and ignorance, sitting beside the fetid bed, breathing the sickening air, waiting upon the often repulsive objects of illness. And this not for one month, or two, but month after month, and year after year, for the whole lustrum during which her friends had lost sight of her. And not in vain, for, with her, into miserable dwellings came light, knowledge, and purity; and before her fled ignorance, prejudice, and disease. The close room would be thrown open to the reviving air of heaven; the heated clothing renewed; the parched lips and burning skin of fever refreshed with coldest water; and, above all, the fainting and despairing spirit raised and guided to the feet of the all-merciful Physician of souls, who never yet sent a suppliant away unhealed. And oh, how often her slender hand has been clasped in tearful gratitude, and prayers and blessings have greeted her coming, and followed her departure? And those who prayed for the lovely minister of mercy, besought the compassionate Father of love to look down in pity upon her who pitied all other sufferers, and to lift from