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"Millicent Holte-that is the name you must assume," said Mrs. Chalmers to Hyacinth; "and, though I never was so pretty or so sweet as you are, still I was a very happy girl-and I do not like to see a young life blighted. Kiss me, Millicent; you shall be like a daughter to me."
"I do not remember my own mother," observed the girl, simply, laying