"Who are you ?" he continued, as Nizza approached.
"I am called Nizza Macascree, and am the daughter of a poor piper," she replied.
"Ah!" exclaimed the sick man, with a look of deep disappointment.

"The resemblance is wonderful! And yet it cannot be.

My brain is bewildered." "Whom does she resemble ?" asked Leonard, eagerly.
"One very dear to me," replied the sick man, with an expression of remorse and anguish, "one I would not think of now." And he buried his face in the grass.
"Is there aught more I can do for you ?" inquired Leonard, after a pause.
"No," replied the sick man; "I have done with the world.

With that child, the last tie that bound me to it was snapped.

I now only wish to die." "Do not give way thus," replied Leonard; "a short time ago my condition was as apparently hopeless as your own, and you see I am now perfectly recovered." "You had something to live for--something to love," groaned the sick man.