"Now, dear ma," says the young lady, "you know how much you have borne.

For all our sakes--for pa's sake," says she, "don't give way to this!"-- "No, no, I won't!" says the lady, gathering herself up, hastily, and drying her eyes; "I am very foolish, but I'm better now--much better." And then she roused herself up, went with us into every room while we took the inventory, opened all the drawers of her own accord, sorted the children's little clothes to make the work easier; and, except doing everything in a strange sort of hurry, seemed as calm and composed as if nothing had happened.

When we came down-stairs again, she hesitated a minute or two, and at last says, "Gentlemen," says she, "I am afraid I have done wrong, and perhaps it may bring you into trouble.

I secreted just now," she says, "the only trinket I have left in the world--here it is." So she lays down on the table a little miniature mounted in gold.

"It's a miniature," she says, "of my poor dear father! I little thought once, that I should ever thank God for depriving me of the original, but I do, and have done for years back, most fervently.