"Certainly, Ma'am, I do," he replied, "and esteem myself obliged that you should still remember me."
"Alas!" said she with a sigh, "the loss of so many later friends has made me wish to see those of an earlier date; not that I did not often think of those I left at the farm, and only wish there were now more of them for me to meet. Your dear mother I know is dead; but my sister Anna, where is she? Ah! that little girl puts me in mind of her—and of a still dearer tie," added she, with a sigh half suppressed, while her eyes were suffused with tears.
"It is her child, Madam," returned Mr. Campbell; "I lost my sister when she was born, and she is ours now."
"Poor little thing," said Mrs. Meridith, drawing the child towards her, "your mother dead also! May you find in the present Mrs. Campbell as kind a nurse as I did in the former, and you will not know your loss. But your brother," continued she, "is he living?"
"Yes, Madam, and has taken a farm about fourteen miles from hence, and is married."
"My poor Anna!" repeated Mrs. Meridith, "how sorry I am that you are not here! she was the only one I ever called sister, Mr. Campbell: who did she marry?"
"A young man from the neighbouring town, Madam; but he was far from a kind husband to her: she lived with him but little more than a twelvemonth, and I fear it hastened her death, for she was so beloved by her own family, that she felt his unkindness doubly keen. This little one is now three years old; on her death-bed she begged us to take it, and its unnatural father has never inquired for it since; nor have we heard of him, except that he was gone as a soldier or a sailor, and perhaps ere this is dead in battle."
The little girl looked hard at him as he related this tale, seeming not to understand of whom he spoke, but as if wishing to be certain it was not herself, she took him by the hand with an inquiring look, saying, "You are my father, a'nt you?"
"Yes, my dear, and always will be a father to you," he replied, with an affectionate kiss. "But give me leave, Madam," added he, "to introduce my wife to you," who still stood contemplating the features of the lady, and hushing the baby in her arms, who seemed disposed to cry at a scene so new to her.
"Did I not know her, when a child?" asked Mrs. Meredith.