There was a gentle suffusion on her face, as she slowly shook her head.
"I have seen you before," she remarked, "but I cannot, at this moment, tell where." "Years have passed since we met," replied the stranger, with something of sadness in his voice; "but I had hoped you would not forget me." As he spoke, he came nearer, and held out his hand, which Emily did not hesitate to take.
At the moment of this contact, a light flashed on the maiden's face, and she exclaimed, with sudden emotion-- "Andrew Howland! Can it be ?" And she stepped back a pace or two, and sunk upon a chair.

Andrew did not relinquish her hand, but sat down by her side, replying, as he did so-- "Yes, Emily, it is even so.

After a long, long absence, I have come back to my old home, wiser and better, I trust, than when I went away." It was some time before Emily looked up or replied; but she did not make a motion to withdraw the hand which Andrew held with no slight pressure.
"How often, Emily," continued Andrew, seeing that she remained silent, "have I thought of the sweet hours we spent together as children--hours, too often, of stolen delight.

Their remembrance has, many a time, saved me from evil when strongly tempted.

But for that, and the memory of my mother, I should long since have become a castaway on the ocean of life." The voice of Andrew became tremulous as he uttered the last sentence.