'Ere I could frame a reply, the door of the adjoining room opened, and my new-found uncle came hastily forward. He evinced much emotion as he tenderly embraced me, saying,-- "Your face strongly reminds me of the twin brother from whom I parted so many years ago. You know not how happy I am in finding the daughter of my dear brother." I could trace in the features of my uncle Charles a resemblance to my dear father; but, as my father had died while quite a young man, the resemblance, at my uncle's time of life, was less striking than otherwise it might have been. My uncle Charles was now sixty-five years old; but travel and exposure caused him to look much older than he really was. He informed me that he had first visited Philadelphia with the hope of finding my father; and, when he learned that my father and mother were both dead, he next enquired if they left any children? He learned that they left one daughter, who had resided for some time in the family of the Leightons, as governess; but had left Philadelphia three years since. He next sought out the Leightons, hoping to learn my residence; but they of course could give him no information upon the subject. They directed him to Mrs. Burnside, who at first was reluctant to give the information he sought; but, when he informed her of the relationship I bore to him, she directed him to my uncle Wayland, in New Hampshire, at whose residence he arrived one week previous to my return from Massachusetts. He soon after gave us the following brief account of his life, since he left Philadelphia, when a boy, which I reserve for the succeeding chapter of my story. CHAPTER XIX. UNCLE CHARLES. My uncle began his story as follows:--