“It was in April, and must have been nineteen years ago. I know by Charlie’s age. I had hurt my ankle and Mr. Storms was going with her, but at the last something happened, I don’t remember what, and he did not go. She said a great many harsh things about her mother-in-law and sister, and about their taking her baby from her, and the night before she went was more excited than I ever saw her, but I did not think her crazy. There was no railroad then, and she went by stage, and from Cincinnati sent me a note that she was safely there and about to start for the East. I wondered a little she never wrote to me, but fancied she was with her grand friends and in her handsome house and had forgotten poor folks like us, and I would not write first. Then I had a great deal of trouble pretty soon. “Charlie died, and Mr. Storms’ lungs gave out, and I went to Florida with him and buried him there, and after six years came back to Cynthiana. So you see there was a good deal of one thing and another to put Laura out of my mind.” Many more questions were asked and explanations and suggestions made until it was preposterous for Magdalen to require more testimony. She _was_ Mr. Grey’s daughter,—she believed it now, and her heart throbbed with ecstasy when she remembered Alice, whom she already loved so much. There was also a feeling of unutterable tenderness and pity for the poor crazy woman who had suddenly come up in the capacity of her mother. She could, aye, she did love her, all wrecked and shattered and imbecile as she was; but she could not so soon respond to the affection which showed itself in every lineament of Mr. Grey’s face and thrilled in the tone of his voice as he wound his arm around her neck, and drawing her closely to him said, with deep emotion: “Magdalen, my daughter, my darling child! Heaven has been better to me than I deserved.” He stooped and kissed her lips, but she did not give him back any answering caress, except as she suffered him to hold her in his embrace. He felt the coldness of her manner, and it affected him deeply, but there was no opportunity then for any words upon the subject. The train was coming which would take them to Cincinnati, and so after a little further conversation with Mrs. Storms, whom Mr. Grey resolved to remember in some substantial form, they bade her good-by and were soon on their way to the city. CHAPTER XLIV. FATHER AND DAUGHTER.