attraction toward the house just entered by his friend; yet the timidity of strong affection, and the delicacy of his character, restrained the impulse.
The stranger bowed low as he entered the presence of Madame Lefrette; and as M. Maillefert introduced him, the name awakened recollections, vague, however, and indefinite. She received him with quiet politeness; but was somewhat disturbed when the little monsieur declined the seat offered him, and left them evidently under the impression that there was something in the visit which required privacy.
"I believe, Madam," said the clergyman, "that you are the daughter of the late Lee Farrington, formerly of B——— county, in Kentucky?"
"I am, Sir," she said, inclining her head.
"I was sorry to learn," he resumed, "on my arrival here, that he was no longer living; for I had hoped to do an act of justice which was but too long delayed. Do you recollect ever to have seen Miller McAllen?"
"I have heard the name frequently," said she, "but was too young when I was in Kentucky to remember him, if I had seen him, which I did not."
"He was my father," resumed the stranger. "He died a few months ago, in New-Orleans, where he had been residing since my boyhood. With almost his last breath," he continued, drawing a paper from his pocket, "he directed me to place this dying declaration in your father's hands, and to ask his forgiveness for a grievous wrong done many years ago. It now belongs to you."
She took the paper, and without opening it waited for explanation. It was evidently an unpleasant duty to the stranger; and this rendered his narrative somewhat rambling and involved. We had better, therefore, simply state the contents of the paper.
It set out that the declarant, Miller McAllen, had been many years before a trusted agent of Mr. Farrington, a young man of fortune, from Virginia, who had emigrated to Kentucky, and become the owner of a large amount of property there, consisting chiefly of a very extensive grant of land. Farrington was careless and roving,
