to stay with her all the afternoon instead
of returning to Hanbury, and afterwards
offered to remain with her while the
Doctor went to attend the funeral. When
they heard of the old love-story between
the dead man and Miss Galindo,—brought
up by mutual friends in Westmoreland, in
the review which we are all inclined to take
of the events of a man's life, when he comes
to die,—they tried to remember Miss
Galindo's speeches and ways of going on during
this visit. She was a little pale, a little
silent; her eyes were sometimes swollen,
and her nose red; but she was at an age
when such appearances are generally
attributed to a bad cold in the head, rather than
to any more sentimental reason. They felt
towards her as towards an old friend, a kindly,
useful, eccentric, old maid. She did not
expect more, or wish them to remember
that she might once have had other hopes,
and more youthful feelings. Doctor Trevor
thanked her very warmly for staying with
his wife, when he returned home from
London (where the funeral had taken place).
He begged Miss Galindo to stay with them,
when the children were gone to bed, and
she was preparing to leave the husband and
wife by themselves. He told her and his
wife many particulars—then paused—then
went on—

"And Mark has left a child—a little
girl——"

"But he never was married," exclaimed
Mrs. Trevor.

"A little girl," continued her husband,
"whose mother, I conclude, is dead. At any
rate, the child was in possession of his
chambers; she and an an old nurse, who
seemed to have the charge of everything,
and has cheated poor Mark, I should fancy,
not a little."

"But the child!" asked Mrs. Trevor, still
almost breathless with astonishment. "How
do you know it is his?"

"The nurse told me it was, with great
appearance of indignation at my doubting it.
I asked the little thing her name, and all I
could get was 'Bessy!' and a cry of 'Me
wants papa!' The nurse said the mother
was dead, and she knew no more about it
than that Mr. Gibson had engaged her to
take care of the little girl, calling it his child.
One or two of his laywer friends, whom I
met with at the funeral, told me they were
aware of the existence of this child."

"What is to be done with her?" asked
Mrs. Gibson.

"Nay, I don't know," replied he. "Mark
has hardly left assets enough to pay his
debts, and your father is not inclined to come
forward."

That night, as Doctor Trevor sate in his
study, after his wife had gone to bed, Miss
Galindo knocked at his door. She and he
had a long conversation. The result was
that he accompanied Miss Galindo up to
town the next day; that they took possession
of the little Bessy, and she was brought
down, and placed at nurse at a farm in the
country near Warwick, Miss Galindo
undertaking to pay one-half the expense, and to
furnish her with clothes, and Doctor Trevor
undertaking that the remaining half should
be furnished by the Gibson family, or by
himself in their default.

Miss Galindo was not fond of children,
and I daresay she dreaded taking this child
to live with her for more reasons than one.
My Lady Ludlow could not endure any
mention of illegitimate children. It was a
principle of hers that society ought to ignore
them. And I believe Miss Galindo had
always agreed with her until now, when the
thing came home to her womanly heart.
Still she shrank from having this child of
some strange woman under her roof. She
went over to see it from time to time; she
worked at its clothes long after every one
thought she was in bed; and, when the time
came for Bessy to be sent to school, Miss
Galindo laboured away more diligently than
ever, in order to pay for the increased
expense. For the Gibson family had, at first,
paid their part of the compact, but with
unwillingness and grudging hearts; then they
had left it off altogether, and it fell hard on
Doctor Trevor with his twelve children;
and, latterly, Miss Galindo had taken upon
herself almost all the burden. One can
hardly live and labour, and plan and make
sacrifices, for any human creature without
learning to love it. And Bessy loved Miss
Galindo, too, for all the poor girl's scanty
pleasures came from her, and Miss Galindo
had always a kind word, and, latterly, many
a kind caress, for Mark Gibson's child;
whereas, if she went to Doctor Trevor's for
her holiday, she was overlooked and neglected
in that bustling family, who seemed to think
that if she had comfortable board and lodging
under their roof, it was enough.

I am sure, now, that Miss Galindo had
often longed to have Bessy to live with her;
but, as long as she could pay for her being at
school, she did not like to take so bold a step
as bringing her home, knowing what the
effect of the consequent explanation would
be on my lady. And as the girl was now
more than seventeen, and past the age when
young ladies are usually kept at school, and
as there was no great demand for governesses
in those days, and as Bessy had never been
taught any trade by which to earn her own
living, why I don't exactly see what could be
done but for Miss Galindo to plan to bring
her to her own home in Hanbury. For,
although the child had grown up lately, in a
kind of unexpected manner, into a young
woman, Miss Galindo might have kept her
at school for a year longer if she could have
afforded it; but this was impossible when
she became Mr. Horner's clerk, and
relinquished all the payment of her repository