Year: 1862

garden, and strange lace Peered into mine,
rs some one, clasping me in her arms, kissed
me again and again, while my face was wet
with tears. l never knew whence she came
or whittier she went, and 1t seemed strange
that dim memory should come back them
1t passed, and q bright dream fitted before
my waking vision-my father would return
in few months; he would meet Mrs. Thorn.
ton she was 80 gentle and winning he
would not fail to be pleased with her, and l
might be permitted to call her mother!


My hand was on the knob to open the
door, but hesitated. 1t was late, and the
house was still. How easy 1t would be to
solve the mystery, and Mrs. Thornton never
know it. For months that veiled picture had
haunted my waking and sleeping visions
why should l longer perpleI my mind with
vain conjecture? and crossing the library, l
placed the lamp so its light would fall direct
ly upon the picture. Was It the rustling Of
the silk or the faint echo OF gentle footsteps
that stalled me' but. listening intently, l
found all silent within and without. All !!
1t was the whispering Of the still small voice,
and should I heed its promptings? She
would not know it, curiosity whispered, SO I
raised the veil but as my eye caught q
glimpse Of u gilded frame the drapery fell
from my hand! remembered my promise
never to raise that veil, and turned away,
wondering why so costly frame was hidden
beneath those dark folds.


From that night the mystery Of the libra
ry deepened. had nervous dread Of being
left alone with that veiled picture, and my
imaginative mind pictured scene Of horror
that would thrill every nerve and freeze my
hearts blood


Ny father returned, and when told him
how kind Mrs. Thornton had been, he called
to thank her in person, but she was i'll and
could not leave her room. Wondering what
could agitate her so, returned to my father
saying she would be better in day or two,
and he must not leave the city until he had
seen her. But he was firm in his decision to
leave the next day, and l must accompany
him. Then expressed wish to visit my
mothers grave. He drew me to his side, and
with his arm encircling me, and my head
resting upon his bosom. told me Of my moth
er. To him the memory Of the past was
painful, and I mingled my tears with those
Of my father, while again seemed to sec
that strange face peerinS into mine.


In two hours would leave my kind friend,
and was going Without the mystery of the
library being solved; so I ventured to hint
that, when I came to visit her the next year,
hoped to see the veiled picture unveiled
She did not reply but taking my hand led
me to the library. She would tell me all,
she said, for perhaps, We might never meet
again.


Mrs. Thornton told her story briefly. She
was the only child Of wealthy parents, and
married at the age OF nineteen. For three
years she was happy in the pleasant home to
which her husband took her then cloud
of midnight darkness oveshadowed that
home. Some one envying her circulated re-
ports injurious to her reputation, and these
coming 70 her husbands ears, he, being nat
urally Of a jealous disposition, believed them.
The wife loved her husband devotedly, and
being innocent, how could she bear patiently
his taunts and uncallcd for surveillance? So
she proposed returning to her parental home,
and the husband said go, only she must leave
her child. She did go, and three years after
her parents being dead, she went to Europe,
where she remained eight years. Returning
to America, she came to New Haven, where,
under the assumed name Of Thornton she had
since resided. Once she visited the home Of
her husband during his absence, and bribing
the housekeepcr by the present of a. we'll.
filed purse, procured his portrait and in
all her wanderings It had been her compan.
ion, though closely veiled lest some one should
recognize it, and thus her earlier history be-
came food for idle gossip. Then, too, she
had seen her child, and for a brief moment
pressed it to her bosom, but words could not
express the agony OF her breaking heart, as





she turned away from her child.


Your husbands name,' said, sinking ut
her feet, and gazing sonderingly into her
pale face and dark liquid eyes, bent so Low.
ingly upon me for strange hope made my
heart throb wildly.


Il cannot repeat his name, but you may
look upon his counterpart she said, rising.


Slowly. almost revcrently, she put back
the folds Of that silken veil, while l stood,
half breathless, beside her. Was it dream
or was it reality? There was no mistaking
that Likeness and involuntarily tho words,
my father = burst from my lips. Then, like
swiftly moving panorama, 1t all passed be-
lore my mind, and, throwing my arms around
her neck, called her:


MY mother my long.lost mother! Ny
father told me all yesterday said, when l
had become more calm. He learned that
the report was without foundation, and hear
ing you had gone to Europe, for three years
a Al n