About the time of Adelaide's arrival at Ballinamoyle, Lord Osselstone and Augustus sailed from Dover, and took the direct road to Brussels, intending to stay in the principal towns through which their route lay, as long as would afford them opportunity of seeing such curiosities as principally deserved their attention. From Brussels they proceeded to Liege, and stopping a few days at Spa, crossed to Bonn, and from thence enjoyed the delightful scenery which the banks of the Rhine presented. The melancholy with which the remembrance of his brother was connected in the Earl's mind, threw a softened shade of sadness on his manners, which perhaps won more on the affections of his nephew, than the most brilliant sallies of wit or imagination could have done. For every sigh that escaped Lord Osselstone found an echo in the heart of Augustus. The concentrated susceptibility of his natural disposition, and the peculiar turn of his education, had equally contributed to give a stability to his feelings, beyond what his age would have promised: impressions made on a mind so formed were not easily to be effaced; as the marble, though impervious to slight incisions, if once impressed, loses the form but with its own existence.

He had never known the endearing cares of a sister,—never had enjoyed the blessing of maternal smiles. In Selina Seymour alone all his first affections were centred, and as his matured reason watched her opening charms, his judgment sanctioned his love.

It was true, that in the vortex of dissipation into which she had lately been plunged, he had found something to reprove in her manners, and a great deal to deplore in her conduct to himself; yet with the lenity which belongs to true affection, he sought excuses for what he most condemned; and though with the resignation of despondency he had given up all hope of being dear to her, he did not endeavour to discover flaws in the chrysolite, because the precious jewel was not to grace his coronet. But the contending emotions of his soul preyed on his health; and in his faded cheek and saddened brow Lord Osselstone read the too plain indications of a grief smothered, but not subdued.

It was towards the end of July when the travellers reached Bonn, and the beautiful scenery in the neighbourhood of that town, where they first saw the Rhine, tempted them to prolong their stay in it for some days. At length however they pursued their journey, and as the weather was sultry, preferred travelling in the cool of the evening. The shades of night are however little adapted to German roads or German drivers. They had scarcely traversed half the distance between Andernach and Coblentz, when their postillions carelessly drove against the roots of a tree, and overturned the carriage. Fortunately neither of the gentlemen received any injury, but the accident occasioned a considerable delay, as the carriage was much shattered, and they were obliged considerably to lighten it of its luggage, before it could reassume its proper position. At last, after the drivers had indulged themselves in a variety of oaths and ejaculations, and the two gentlemen, aided by their servants, had made use of more effectual means of repairing the disaster, they were enabled to proceed, though at a greatly retarded pace; and at last reached Coblentz, without further accident.

The master of the hotel, but too happy to receive once more "Des milors Anglais" as his guests, with alacrity provided them the best supper his house could afford, and the Earl and Augustus were congratulating each other on their escape, when the door suddenly opened, and Lord Osselstone's gray-headed valet burst into the room, rage and dismay struggling for pre-eminence in his countenance; "There, my Lord," bellowed he, "there, I knew how it would be. I told you you'd get no good by travelling in this damned country: they have robbed you; they have stolen it, that's all;" and he was leaving the room with as much precipitation as he had entered it, when his master called him back, to inquire calmly what was lost. "Only your red box, that I know you wouldn't part with for a thousand pounds." In an instant, to Augustus's inexpressible astonishment, he beheld Lord Osselstone's countenance convulsed with contending passions—he started up, and seizing the trembling old man by the collar, "Find it, find it, villain, or never see me more," said he, in a voice of thunder; and with one thrust pushed him out of the door. Then holding his burning forehead with both his hands, he traversed the room with hurried steps, and soon retired precipitately to his own chamber. This scene was perfectly incomprehensible to Augustus; but instead of bewildering himself in conjecture, he, with his usual promptitude, immediately exerted himself to repair the loss which so much agitated his uncle. Conceiving it possible the box might have fallen out of the carriage when it was overturned, he instantly dispatched one of the postillions in search of it, offering a large reward for its recovery. After about two hours of suspense, during which time he did not venture to intrude on the Earl, the messenger returned with the lost treasure, which was almost broken to pieces. Augustus however joyfully seizing it, hastened with it to his uncle, who opened the door, and snatched it from him in silence. But the box was so shattered that in doing so the bottom of it gave way, and most of its contents, consisting principally of letters, fell to the floor. A miniature case rolled to some distance, and lay open on the ground. Augustus ran to pick it up, but on viewing it, exclaimed abruptly, "Good God! my mother! this surely is a copy of the portrait of her my father left me;" and turning with an inquiring look to Lord Osselstone, he perceived his lip trembling with emotion, the cold drops of agony bursting from his forehead, and his frenzied eyes fixed on Mordaunt, with an expression which made him shudder. "Audacious boy!" at last muttered the earl, in the deep tone of smothered passion, "how dare you seek to know the sorrows of my heart?" Augustus, pitying his evident suffering, approached him, and laying his hand on his, with involuntary affection, said, "I do not seek to know them, I only wish to soothe them: consider me as a friend, as a son, who—" "Son!" exclaimed Lord Osselstone, shrinking from him with horror; "Son! God of Heaven! do I live to hear the child of Emma Dormer mock me with the name of father? leave me," continued he sternly, "and never again blast me with your presence. Fool, fool that I have been to cherish the viper that stings my heart; your cradle was the grave of my happiness; and you have but lived to fester the wounds your parents made." Indignant at such unmerited reproaches, Mordaunt hastened to leave the room, but turning to take a parting look at his last surviving relation, who thus spurned him, he beheld the man, whose calm unbending dignity had so often awed the wondering crowd, trembling with unconquerable feelings, whilst the scalding tears chased each other down his face. He stopped—"I cannot leave you thus," said he; "to-morrow will be time enough to part." Lord Osselstone turned towards him in silence. The look was not to be misunderstood; and in an instant Augustus was pressed to his bosom. A long pause ensued. At last the Earl, wringing Mordaunt's hand; "Augustus!" said he, "I believe you sincere in the regard you profess for me: but beware of deceiving me." He stopped to recover himself, then proceeded, in a hurried tone: "When I was about your age, with a heart as warm as yours is now, and feelings even more susceptible, I fixed my affections on Emma Dormer. I believed her mind as faultless as her person; and loved her to adoration. She pretended to return my passion; and her father was happy, nay eager, to see her share my title and fortune. The time was fixed for our marriage; but two days before the one appointed for it, she eloped with the man she had the cruelty to tell me was her first, her only love. My own brother was my rival!" A deep groan burst from the Earl; at length, he continued, "I never saw her afterwards; though, when her extravagance and my brother's dissipation hurried them into ruin, she often wrote to me, yes, to me, for assistance; and I have the satisfaction of thinking, that I relieved the wretchedness of her who plunged my life in misery. She died four years afterwards, and my brother survived her but ten months. Even in death he wronged me; for, mistrusting my feelings towards you, he chose Sir Henry Seymour for your guardian. When I first saw you, Augustus, your hated likeness to both your parents froze my blood. When you came to Oxford, I was a constant though secret observer of your actions; and, prejudiced as I was, I thought I saw in your youthful follies and marked alienation from myself, the errors of your father's character hereditary in yours. Accident and time changed my opinion of you; and, contrary to my predetermination, nay, even against my inclination, my heart has once more been open to feelings of interest and affection; if I am again betrayed——however the poison will find its own antidote. Now, Augustus, good night.—Yet, one word more.—I charge you, as you value my friendship, as you regard my peace, never recur to this subject again—never recall the occurrences of this night."

It would be impossible to describe the various feelings this recital occasioned in the heart of Augustus. He retired to rest, but his thoughts were entirely engrossed by the Earl; and while he shuddered at the duplicity and ingratitude of his parents, he bitterly lamented his own precipitancy, which had led him so much to misjudge his uncle's character. When however they met the next morning, all trace of the storm had vanished. The surface of the wave, that had so lately been agitated almost to fury, was again calmly bright, if not transparent. Augustus could almost have believed the scene of the night before was but a vision of his distempered fancy, had it not been for the silent and almost imperceptible pressure of his hand, which accompanied his uncle's first salutation.

One other change was also apparent. They had scarcely commenced breakfast, when Lord Osselstone sent for his valet, to desire him to make some other coffee, as his Lordship had just recollected that he always preferred what he prepared to any other. The alacrity with which the old man obeyed the command, showed how much he valued the compliment thus paid to the very point of his character on which he most valued himself, next to his talent for arranging full-bottomed periwigs, which he always contended were the most becoming dresses ever invented for young gentlemen. When he returned with the coffee, "There," said he, with a look of triumph, "I have taken pains with that, and you'll find it ten times better than these jabbering Frenchmen can make, here in the heart of Germany; but you'll get nothing fit to eat till you get back to Old England; I always told you so." His expostulations were however unavailing, as the travellers pursued their journey towards Vienna, where they arrived in the beginning of September. Not the most distant allusion was made by either to the confidence Lord Osselstone had reposed in Augustus, though the almost indefinable tokens of increased kindness, that now marked the Earl's manner to his companion, showed that, however painful the communication had been at first, yet his grief in being shared was lightened. As when the soft breath of spring dissolves the icy chain that binds the torrent, though it may at first burst in desolating fury, yet its streams gradually subside in peace, and glide in smoother currents, blessed and blessing on their way.