"The surgeon offered to get me into an asylum in New York, but this she would not hear of: so I went with her into her little house, and used to help her carry home the washing which she took from the school. We thus became acquainted with Dr. and Mrs. Bower and told them my story; and Mrs. Bower adopted me for her own daughter. I have lived with them for three years, and been very happy all the time. That is the end of my story."
The scholar had been listening silently, never taking his eyes from Agatha's face for the whole time, As she closed her narrative, he took from his breast a miniature case, opened it, and handed it to Agatha without a word.
"My papa and mamma! My own dear papa, and mamma!" almost screamed Agatha. "Oh, where did you get them? Did you know my mamma? Do you know my brother?"
"Agatha!" said the scholar. "Do you remember that not very long before Charles went away, he was thrown from his horse and got a scar on his forehead?"
"Yes!" answered Agatha, breathlessly. "Why?"
The scholar pushed back his thick hair, and showed her a scar upon the right side of his forehead, asking, "Do you remember me now?"
"Charley! Oh, Charley!"
In another moment, Agatha was in her brother's arms. I will not undertake to describe the scene which followed. Presently the scholar rose, and taking Agatha by the hand, led her into the room and closed the door behind them.
"How strange!" said the old lady. "It seems as though there was a Providence in it; your coming out of the way as you did, and even in your being snowed up, since if it had not been for your stopping here and our telling stories, they might not have found each other out after all."
"There is a Providence in all things," observed the doctor, taking off his spectacles and wiping them; "'All things work together for good to them that love God,' though we do not always see the working so plainly as in this particular instance."