She strained the girl to her heart, then put her away and rose.  Opening a strong metallic box concealed in a drawer of the dressing-table, she took out several papers, some yellowed with age, and blurred with tears, and while Regina still sat, with her arm resting on the chair, Mrs. Orme locked the door, and began to walk slowly up and down the room.

“One moment, mother.  I want to know why my heart is drawn so steadily and so powerfully toward Mr. Chesley, and why something in his face reminds me tenderly of you?  Are you quite willing to tell me why he seems so deeply interested in me?”

“Regina, have you never guessed?  Orme Chesley is my uncle, my mother’s only brother.”

“Oh, how rejoiced I am!  I hoped he was in some mysterious way related to us, but I feared to lean too much upon the pleasant thought, lest it proved a disappointment.  My own uncle?  What a blessing!  Does Mr. Palma know it?”

“Mr. Palma first suspected and traced the relationship, and it was from him that Uncle Orme learned of my existence, for it appears he believed me dead.  Mr. Palma has long held all the tangled threads of my miserable history in his skilful hands, and to his prudent, patient care you and I shall owe our salvation.  For years he has been to me the truest, wisest, kindest friend a deserted and helpless woman ever found.”

Regina sank her head upon the chair, afraid that her radiant face might betray the joy his praises kindled; and while she walked, Mrs. Orme began her recital: 

“My grandfather, Hubert Chesley, was from Alsace; my grandmother originally belonged to the French family of Ormes.  They had two children, Orme the eldest, and Minetta, who while very young married a travelling musician from Switzerland, named Leon Merle.  A year after she became his wife her father died, and the family resolved to emigrate to America.  On the voyage, which was upon a crowded emigrant ship, I was born; and a few hours after my mother died.  They buried her at sea, and would to God I too had been thrown into the waves, for then this tale of misery would never torture innocent ears.  But children who have only a heritage of woe, and ought to die, fight for existence defying adversity, and thrive strangely; so I lucklessly survived.

“My first recollections are of a pauper quarter in a large city, where my father supported us scantily by teaching music.  Subsequently we removed to several villages, and finally settled in one where were located a college for young gentlemen, and a seminary for girls.  In the latter my father was employed as musical professor, and here we lived very comfortably until he died of congestion of the lungs.  Uncle Orme at that time was in feeble health, and unable to contribute toward our maintenance, and soon after father’s death he went out to California to the mining region.  I was about ten years old when he left, and recollect him as a pale, thin, delicate man.  In those days it cost a good deal of money to reach the gold mines, and this alone prevented him from taking us with him.