"Jennie," said Carrie the next morning, "come with me and we'll get a peep at the portrait. I saw father go into the room a moment since, and grandpa's out on the piazza. We'll step softly just inside the door, for father never likes to be disturbed when he's there."

With their arms about each other's waists the two friends went skipping along, until they reached the apartment appropriated to the old gentleman. The door was partially open and they could see through the crack the dark figure of Carrie's father standing with his back toward them. The room seemed very bright and cheerful, and the rich colors of a gay carpet, and the elaborate carving of the massive and antique furniture rendered it still more pleasant and attractive. As they were about to cross the threshold, and Carrie had her hand against the door to push it open still further, Jennie whispered, "Stop a minute, Carrie, my heart beats so!—I'm afraid your father will not like it if we intrude upon him now! You know there's something very sacred in one's sorrow!"

Mr. Halberg, meanwhile, had withdrawn the black vail which had obscured the portrait since his sister's marriage, and stood thoughtfully gazing upon the lovely features, and comparing them with those of the young girl, whose image filled his mind. "It is very strange," murmured he; "the same waving mass of hair, the same beautifully-arched brows and long lashes, and the liquid eyes, melting one with their subduing pathos; the very expression so like, too! It is very wonderful! very wonderful!" and he wiped away a tear that betrayed the depth and earnestness of his feelings.

"Come, Jennie—father will not see us," said Carrie, gently pulling her within the door, "he gets so absorbed!"

As Jennie entered the room she raised her eyes to the place where Mr. Halberg stood. That moment the sunlight came through the windows, casting a bright gleam upon the beautiful portrait, and, stretching out her arms toward it, the young girl faintly cried, "My own blessed mother!" and sunk senseless to the floor.

In one moment Mr. Halberg was beside her, and raising her gently he placed her upon the bed, and with a face as colorless and rigid as her own, awaited her return to consciousness, applying the proper restoratives with a calm and skillful hand. Carrie had loosened her dress, and as she did so, a miniature fell upon the bed. Her father looked eagerly upon it, and with tremulous fingers pressed a spring upon the back. It was indeed his sister's likeness, placed beyond dispute by the convincing inscription, "Jane Halberg, to her beloved daughter, Jennie Grig!"

This, then, was the child of that precious one who had roamed with him through the sunny paths of infancy and youth, but whose maturer years were overshadowed by adversity and gloom! God had sent a pitying heart to her in the hour of her saddest need, and had gently led her back to the home whence her mother had been cruelly banished; that mother He had received into more beauteous mansions, but the child was left, to fulfill a noble and glorious mission among those who had hitherto deemed her as helpless in the grave! Strangers had proved better than those of her own household to the outcast and orphan, and had nurtured and cared for her while they were contenting themselves with the report that she had gone where no earthly care avails. Only the evening before had she sat in the midst of her relatives, with a sad feeling of isolation—now they were gathered about her with evidences of an awakening love and tenderness. It was pleasant to shut her eyes and open them again upon so glad a revelation! So thought Jennie as she gazed upon her new-found connections, who crowded around with exclamations of surprise and affection. Carrie, then, was her own cousin! and the great heart against which she was so fondly pressed was warm with kindred blood? Grandpa, too, had fondled and caressed her idolized mother, and even his wandering faculties had detected her lineage, so that he had clung to her for some better reason than an impulsive and wayward fancy!

"Speak not now, my darling," said Mr. Halberg, as Jennie made an effort to say something to him, "but put your arms around my neck, and let me feel by this mute expression that the past is forgiven; I am not yet able to bear one word from the child of my deserted sister."

The young girl's lips were still parted, but the loving arms twined closely around her uncle, and although no verbal absolution came, he felt that the past would never again haunt him with its spectral figure, but that his sister's blessing would come to him through the child who now lay so fondly upon his bosom.