"Should my own gloomy presages prove true, and the warning of my medical attendant be well founded,—if, in a word, the hand of Death be already extended to snatch me away thus in the prime of life, while my darling child is * * * * and inform Mr. Markham, whose abode is——" The words that originally stood in the place which we have marked with asterisks, had evidently been blotted out by the tears of the writer. Reginald folded the letter as he had received it, and returned it to Katherine. The young girl immediately replaced it in the little bag, which she sewed up with scrupulous care. It was the poor creature's sole treasure; and she prized it as the last and only memento that she possessed of her mother. "And you know not to whom that unfinished letter alluded?" said the rector, after a long pause, during which the bag, with its precious contents, had been consigned once more to the secret drawer in the work-box. "I have not the least idea," answered Kate, drying her tears. "I was only four years old when my mother died, and of course could take no steps to inquire after the Mr. Markham mentioned in the letter. My uncle has often assured me that he took some trouble in the matter, but without success. Markham, you know, sir, is by no means an uncommon name." "And your father, Katherine—do you remember him?" "Oh! no, sir—he died before my mother. When I was old enough to comprehend how dreadful it is to be an orphan, Mr. Tracy, I made that little satin bag to preserve the letter which Death would not allow my poor mother to finish." And again the young maiden wept bitterly. The rector was deeply affected; and for some minutes his sensual ideas concerning the damsel were absorbed in a more generous sympathy. "But did not the medical man who attended your mother in her last moments, and who is also alluded to in the letter," asked Reginald,—"did he not afford some clue to unravel the mystery?" "That question I have asked my uncle more than once," answered Kate; "and he has assured me that the medical man was a perfect stranger who was casually summoned to attend upon my poor mother only the very day before she breathed her last. Since then the medical man has also died." "Your mother was your uncle's own sister, was she not?" asked the rector. "She was, sir." "And she married a person named Wilmot?" "Yes—for my name is Katherine Wilmot." "I remember that you were so entered upon the school-books," said the rector. "Your mother must have been a superior woman, for the language of that fragment of a letter is accurate, and the handwriting is good." "The same thought has often struck me, sir," observed Katherine. "And now how strange it is that a person bearing the name of Markham should interest himself in my behalf!"