We kept her a spell, and then her old man' brother's girl came for her and took her off; and the last I heard, the girl was dead, and she was in the poor-house somewhere east.

She was born there, I b'lieve." "No she warn't, either," said the landlady, who for some minutes had been aching to speak.

"No she warn't, either.

I know all about it.

She was born in England, and got to be quite a girl before she came over.
Her name was Sarah Fletcher, and Peter Fletcher, who died with the cholera, was her own uncle, and all the connection she had in this country;--but goodness suz, what ails you ?" she added, as Mary turned deathly white, while George passed his arm around her to keep her from falling.