The servant naturally announced me as "Mr. Danby!" and that now unfamiliar name so startled the ear and roused the sensibilities of poor Lord Ormington, that, as on occasion of my former visit, he tottered forward and threw himself into my arms. Decrepit, feeble, his long white hair hanging loosely on his shrunken temples, his withered face furrowed not by years alone but by a weary series of domestic sorrows, now possessed a venerable air, redeeming it from all its former triviality. Though the expression of those glazed blue eyes was cold and vacant, it was impossible to divest oneself of a certain feeling of deference towards his helpless old age. I sat down beside him on his low sofa, and saw by the tenderness with which his palsied hand still clutched at the sleeve of my coat, that I had not dissuaded him from mistaking me for his more dearly beloved son. It was painful to me to rectify an error that made him so happy. I resolved to say no more about it. The misconception might be in our favour. Previous to risking my appeal, a disagreeable obstacle was to be removed. Coulson, aged as his master, but unimpaired in faculties, was his constant companion; and though the servant who officiated as attendant on both, had discreetly retired upon my entrance, the privileged abomination resolutely kept his seat; nay, rigidly kept his eye fixed upon my movements, as the hunter upon those of a beast of prey. There was no standing this. The crisis was such as to obviate all scruples. I therefore coolly but peremptorily desired to be left alone with his lordship. It was the first time I had ever assumed an air of authority in Coulson's presence: and, at that moment, he probably beheld in me the future Lord Ormington; for rising from his seat with a sullen scowl, he hobbled out of the room. I was now alone with the old man. I might as well have been alone with a corpse, as once before in that hated room, for any purposes of vitality that remained in my companion. But I adhered to my resolution. Though shuddering at the idea of the imposture to which I had recourse, I spoke of poor Jane as my daughter -- (and was she not so by love and adoption?) — adverted to her household distresses, and assured him that nothing short of a gratuity of six thousand pounds could restore her to credit and comfort. At first, he listened as though not a syllable I was uttering penetrated the confusion of his brain. But when I persevered, when I spoke of her as my child, my dear child, suffering, disgraced, houseless,-spoke of her with tearful eyes and faltering voice, as the father would have done who stood by my bedside at Genoa, he began, as if by sympathy, to tremble and weep; and to do him justice, from the moment he was made to comprehend that a pecuniary sacrifice was demanded of him, did not hesitate. He called for pens, ink, paper:-seating himself at the table to write in such utter bewilderment of mind, that it was only too painfully clear, I was committing an act of robbery. But robbery of whom? - Myself! I was his inevitable heir. A few hours, and I might come into possession of the princely fortune of which, for the use of others, I was subtracting a part. - The great difficulty, now, was to limit the extent of his munificence. How much was wanted? For what amount should the order upon his banker be made out? If six thousand pounds were required, would not ten, would not twenty be better? He had seventy or eighty thousand pounds, he said, lying idle at Rothschild's! — I had only to name my sum. I named ten thousand, - regarding the money as more than half my own; and resolving to invest the surplus in the hands of the Walsingham's banker, for the separate use of Jane. With so wild a husband, I could not but foresee a period when such a resource might be of vital importance. Unluckily, the order was made out in my favour as " pay to Mr. Danby or order." Having completed my purpose, and conscious of the joy it was about to convey to the Walsinghams, by restoring peace of mind to Jane and solacing the remorse of Frank, I could almost have kissed the withered hand by whose concession the miracle had been accomplished. Little had I imagined that any series of words traced by Lord Ormington would ever bring tears of gratitude into my eyes. I thanked him heartily. I am afraid that, in order to soothe his ear by the word it thirsted for, I even, for once in my life, called him by the hallowed name of" FATHER !" Having summoned back Coulson and the servant, the former of whom I saw cast a mistrustful glance at the standish and open blotting book on the table, I hurried away, in order to get the order cashed before the closing of the banking-house. In the hall, I met with Herries. He seemed anxious and out of breath; and it was much earlier than his usual time for returning home. I afterwards ascertained that he had been expressly sent for from his office, by the officious old Coulson, with an intimation that Mr. Danby - no, not Mr. Danby, -CECIL, the enemy, had insisted upon a private interview with the invalid Ουτος εστι γαλέωτης γερων. But the deed was done! Painful and humiliating as were these scenes to my feelings, I can attest that all was fully compensated by the dinner I enjoyed that day in Connaught Place. Six months of delinquency and full three of remorse, on the part of Walsingham, had so undermined their domestic happiness, and care had already hollowed such an abyss under their feet, that it was as a renewal of youth and love and joy, to feel themselves suddenly secured from evil, and restored to their place in society. After dinner, the boy was brought for a moment, and placed in his mother's arms. How my heart thrilled under the look of Frank, when after fixing his tearful eyes a moment upon the child and mother, they sought my own! I did not return the following day to Hanover Square, though gratitude to Lord Ormington almost tempted me. But I felt somewhat conscience-struck. I had transgressed a commandment. I had done evil that good might come; - and had not courage to walk as a delinquent into the house of such a Pharisee as the Right Hon. Halbert Her - ries, M.P., President of the Board of - --, and half the moral-mending societies of this sinful metropolis. It was more agreeable to stay at home and indite verses to Lady Phoebe's arched eyebrow; and fifty times more agreeable to go and meet her, as I did, daily in the ride, or nightly in the ball rooms or at the opera. The spectacle of the happiness in Connaught Place seemed to have infused Spring into my soul. I was not more than fiveand-twenty; no!-(smile, Public, if you will,) - I swear I was not more than five-and-twenty! Try the effect of a kind action, if you have heart enough in your Behemothic body, towards bringing back the bloom and elasticity of youth. I say, only try!-I understand your sneer.For worlds you would not have betrayed the confidence of a "foolish fond old man, fourscore and upwards," to obtain possession of a vile amount of filthy lucre. You would feel yourself worthy the pillory or the galleys, after so despicable an act of fraud ! Dicitis, omnis in imbecillitate est et gratia, et caritas, and all weakness is wickedness. Quite right, most upright Public! "a Daniel, Stick a second Daniel !" to your copy-book-morality, and the path of rectitude for ever! Take care, (as poor Richard says,) or Care will take you. Be a good Public!-Continue to the end of your days to demonstrate your patriotism and loyalty by punctuality with your tax-gatherer and toasting the Queen Dowager with four times four; and you will deserve well of your country, and merit the esteem of your family Chaplain and the approbation of the Morning Post. "I hope," (as Dr. Johnson brutally retorted to the young student who presumed to ask the meaning of one of his sesquipedalian harangues,)—" I hope, my Public, I have said nothing you can understand?” VOL. II.-14 CHAPTER XV. Ceux là, plaignez les ! Car ils souffrent, hélas, un mal inguérissable, Leur cœur, comme une orfraie au fond d'une ruine Leur vie est comme un bois à la fin de l'Automne, Et leurs rêves en pleurs s'en vont fendant les nues, Quand approche l'hiver. I HAVE SO often sued for the sympathy of my gentler readers in the April mutability of my tender joys and sorrows, that I scarcely dare entreat them anew in my behalf as a lover. Nevertheless, so long as Government kept open its state gambling booths, the lottery offices, people were found ingenuous enough to trust year after year to the golden promises of Messrs. Goodluck and Hazard, risking for the hundred and fiftieth time in their lives the probability of a blank;— and let me trust they have left simple-minded descendants who will embark with me once more in that Paphian galley, whose purple sails and silver oars but I beg pardon - I am neither Mr. Hazard nor Mr. Goodluck, and may spare myself the puff-preliminary of an advertisement. Suffice it that the evident preference entertained for me by Lady Phoebe Locksley over twenty envious rivals, was not churlishly rewarded. I loved her as such generosity, to say nothing of such beauty, deserved to be loved. I loved her like a boy. I loved her like a child; - no! I loved her like CECIL- a word comprehending a united edition of Catullus, Thomas Morus, and the Code Moral of White's. I could perceive, lovely creature! that she was at times mischievously amused by the spite of which she saw me the object. De Greyvin, Hartingfield, Rotherhithe and |