"Brandon!" repeated Rose and Dick together, when he read the signature. Then Dick read the slips of paper that had fallen out of the letter; they were all the same, notices of her marriage from different papers:
"MARRIED. At the residence of the bride's father, on Wednesday, May 5th, Charles Brandon, of New-York, to Mary, only daughter of Dr. Richard Heremore, of Wiltshire, Maine."
Rose looked at Dick almost with terror in her face. Dick knew not how to answer her.
"It may not be the same," she said at last.
"The letter does not seem sure of his death," suggested Dick.
"But you have met him—would he not have noticed your name?"
"I should think so. But it was long ago, and perhaps he has known others of the name. Besides, Miss Brandon—O Rose! if she should be that sister!—Miss Brandon told me her mother died long ago; she seemed so proudly to disclaim this Mrs. Brandon, whom I called her mother."
"How could he be with your father, if Mr. Brandon is that, and he not know any thing about you?"
"I cannot understand it. I will go to see him to-morrow."
"O Dick!"