A piercing scream from Louise as she sunk insensible by the side of her mother, roused Mr. Talton and Harland from a serious reflexion on the object before them. The Lieutenant gently raised and conveyed her to an adjoining room, where, by the assistance of Mrs. Brown, life soon returned. He attempted not to restrain the first effusions of filial sorrow; the heart of Louise, he knew, was the seat of sensibility; but fortitude and religion were likewise its inmates. In the latter she found a resource; and he had soon the satisfaction of seeing her features impressed with a mild though sad serenity.

Sir Henry and Mr. Talton, in the mean time, silently retired to pay that tribute to the memory of Lady Corbet, she had not altogether merited; but, to Sir Henry, the last moments of her life had atoned for her preceding conduct: nor could Mr. Talton retain a spark of resentment for her ungenerous behaviour to himself: over her actions he drew the veil of oblivion, and gave a sigh and tear of pity to the untimely close of her existence.

The next morning he conferred with Sir Henry, and, at his desire, undertook the care of the funeral. As Lady Corbet had requested, her remains were conveyed to Holly seat, and deposited in the vault, by her father. Mr. Talton, Sir Henry, and Harland attended; nor would Louise be debarred from paying this final mark of respect to her mother; and a last tear fell on her coffin, as she silently preferred a prayer, that, with her ashes, the remembrance of her vices might be for ever buried from the world!

With minds depressed from the scenes they had so lately witnessed, they were reconveyed to Corbet Hall, where, to the surprise of Sir Henry, he was informed the Captain and Frederick were at Sir Arthur Howard's.

Two days, indeed, after he set out for Cornwall, Frederick received a letter from Lady Howard, to acquaint him with the death of his brother, who, in hunting, had been thrown from his horse, and killed on the spot: and, as the violence of Sir Arthur's grief, at this untimely loss of his favourite son, had brought on a severe illness, she had written to request his immediate presence, with that of the Captain.

They accordingly took a hasty leave of their friends, and returned with the messenger to Howard Hall, where they were received by Lady Howard, and an affecting interview took place between her and her son: nor was the Captain unwelcomed; she had ever felt for him the affection of a sister; but, as duty was her first consideration, yielded to the imperious commands of her husband, that he should from that time be regarded as an alien to the family.

Sir Arthur, she informed them, was still confined to his bed; the violence of his grief, which they at first apprehended would have destroyed his reason, had exhausted itself; and he was then sunk into a gloomy sorrow, which threatened to retain a longer influence on his mind; the arrival of the Captain and Frederick (now the heir to his title and estates), she, however, hoped, would not only rouse him from an unavailing grief, but be the means of effecting a perfect reconciliation between them.

Lady Howard was right. The attentions of his brother and son proved highly gratifying to Sir Arthur, who, in a few days, consented to rejoin his family.

The long-neglected Frederick now appeared to gain an interest in his heart; though a sigh oft swelled his bosom at the recollection of the deceased Arthur: but, the rising gloom was ever carefully dispelled by the lively Theodosia, to whom, since the death of his son, he had behaved with an unwonted show of affection.

Six weeks passed, when the Captain proposed returning to Corbet Hall; and, knowing the anxiety which preyed on Frederick's mind, respecting Ellen, he took an opportunity to mention his engagement with her, to Sir Arthur: who, contrary to his expectation, readily gave his consent to their union. When a boy, he said, he had been intimate with her father, who once saved his life; and as her family was good, indeed noble, he would wave the consideration of the fortune Frederick, as his heir, had a right to expect with a wife. He could not, however, he added, consent to his leaving him entirely; he should pass at least half his time, till his marriage, with him. To this, Frederick cheerfully agreed, and, a few days after, returned with the Captain, to Sir Henry's.

During their absence, Mr. Talton had so far improved his suit, that Mrs. Blond consented again to enter the marriage state. The late Sir Henry, she frankly told him, was the only man she had ever loved. The virtues and amiable disposition of Blond had merited her esteem and sincerest friendship; those she had still to give, but nothing farther: her affections were buried in the tomb of Corbet. The gift, he felt, was still too valuable to be rejected; and he doubted not he yet might realize the scenes of domestic happiness he had formerly planned.

As the marriages of Sir Henry and Frederick had been deferred, on account of the decease of Lady Corbet and young Arthur, it was agreed that, at the time again appointed for that ceremony, Mrs. Blond should likewise yield her hand to Mr. Talton. Edward sighed as he heard these arrangements; and the Captain, with concern, perceived his increasing dejection at his unsuccessful inquiry after the fair Unknown, for whom he had in vain searched the greatest part of Caermarthen. He then declared his intention of going to Oxford; to inquire if perchance any of his acquaintance had seen her since he quitted the University? The Captain could not oppose his determination, and as Louise and Harland were going to London, to St. Ledger's, they accompanied him to Oxfordshire, having promised Sir Henry to return to Wales, before the time appointed for the marriages.

In the mean while, preparations were forwarded for that occasion. Frederick, as his father had desired, passed a considerable part of his time at Howard Hall. Sir Arthur's regard for him appeared daily to increase, and on Frederick expressing a wish that he would honour the nuptials with his presence, he instantly complied; and, with Lady Howard and Theodosia, accompanied him to Sir Henry's. The arrival of Harland and Louise, with the St. Ledger family, added to the pleasure of their society. Edward only was absent, who continued a fruitless search, till the day preceding that fixed for the union of his friends, when he arrived, so apparently ill, that the Captain began to be seriously alarmed.

Edward endeavoured to rally his spirits; and on Sir Henry and Frederick's joining him, to chide his long desertion, with forced cheerfulness, answered their good-humoured reproaches, and prepared to attend them to the drawing-room. The Captain introduced him to their several friends; but on presenting Theodosia, Edward, with exulting transports, exclaimed—"O God, my father! it is my unknown——it is——"

"Theodosia, the daughter of Sir Arthur Howard," interrupted the Captain, with vivacity. Sir Arthur, hearing his name, advanced, and instantly recognised Edward, to whom he proffered his hand, and, reminding him of the accident at Oxford, renewed his thanks for the service he had rendered his daughter.

"Your thanks, I am afraid, Sir Arthur," said the Captain, with a smile, "will not sufficiently recompense my son for that evening's adventure. He loves your daughter, and has for some months been seeking her. You know my fortune; if, on a farther acquaintance, you approve him for a son-in-law, he shall have half at his marriage, the remainder at the decease of myself and his mother."

Sir Arthur paused a moment—but the offer was too advantageous to be rejected, and he readily acceded to it.

"But what says Theodosia?" asked the Captain. "Without her consent, ours are of no effect."

"Her consent!" repeated Sir Arthur. "She shall consent! Let her refuse if she dare: I will not again be fooled!"

Theodosia attempted not to reply; the deepest confusion oppressed her; yet she withdrew not her hand from Edward, but with a timid interceding glance, raised her eyes to her father. The flush of anger was fast crimsoning the cheek of Sir Arthur, at the idea of her not according with the proposal of her uncle, when Lady Howard joined them, and tenderly taking the hand of her daughter, said—"Have some consideration, Sir Arthur, to the delicacy of my girl. Disobedience to a father she truly loves, is, I am certain, far from her heart or wishes; but on this subject, unprepared as she was, no answer could be so proper as her silence. Your nephew has sincere friends in his cause, and, aided by time, need not despair of success."

To her mother, Theodosia had mentioned the attention of Edward, when at Oxford, and their subsequent interview in Wales; pourtraying him in such favourable colours, and dwelling on each word and incident with such pleasure and minuteness, as showed he had made no inconsiderable impression on her heart.

She now directed a look of grateful acknowledgment to Lady Howard, for the relief she had afforded her, whilst Sir Arthur, in a milder tone, replied: "Well—well, Madam, you may be right; but you know I do not like to be trifled with."

This discovery, as unexpected as pleasing, added to the happiness of every individual; nor was Edward long in obtaining a confession; her affections were too nearly interested in his favour, to let duty have the merit of her compliance with the wishes of her father.

At last the morn so ardently expected, arrived! The tenants of Sir Henry, who the same day attained his one-and-twentieth year, assembled on the lawn, and proceeded with them to church, where Sir Henry, Mr. Talton, and Frederick, received the hands of their destined brides. Nor would old Thomas be denied the gratification of attending his master on this occasion, at which no one more sincerely rejoiced: he appeared to have shaken off the infirmities of age; and after the ceremony, joining the tenants, conducted them back to the lawn, where a noble banquet, by order of their generous landlord, added to the pleasure of the peasantry; and a rural ball concluded the day, in which Sir Henry and his friends did not disdain to join.

For three weeks the Hall and Mr. Talton's house were proclaimed open as the hearts of their owners; and at the expiration of that time, the whole party proceeded to the seat of Sir Arthur, where he yielded to the solicitations of Edward, and resigned the hand of Theodosia. The liberality of the Captain on this occasion awakened the generosity of his brother, and Howard Hall for some weeks vied with the hospitable mansions of Corbet and Talton. Sir Arthur did more—he insisted on resigning the family seat to Frederick and Ellen; himself retiring, with his Lady, to a smaller one he possessed within less than a mile, where, as he said, he could daily visit or be visited by them.

Another month, however, elapsed before they thought of separating; and then with an unanimous promise of frequently visiting each other.

Harland and his Louise returned to Harland Hill, where, a few months after, she made him the exulting father of a lovely boy. This circumstance endeared her not only more to him, but to his parents; at whose request he relinquished the service, and consented to reside with them. The amiable manners of Louise had imperceptibly softened the impatience and harshness of his temper, and his increasing tenderness as a husband and father, fully justified her in the choice she had made.

Captain Howard purchased an estate near Sir Henry and Mr. Talton's; and in the society and affection of his Ellenor found an ample recompence for the years of unhappiness he had experienced on her account. Edward and Theodosia, at his desire, consented to reside beneath his paternal roof: whilst Sir Arthur, who since the death of his son had shown an unusual urbanity of disposition, again regarded him with fraternal kindness, which was returned with the sincerest friendship by the Captain.

Time softened the sorrow of the worthy Booyers for the loss of Hannah; and, though he ever dwelt on her memory with tenderness, he no longer felt those poignant emotions, the remembrance or mention of her would at one time have occasioned. Frederick, with a delicacy equal to his regard, presented him with an estate adjoining Howard Hall, which produced him an easy competence: from the happiness of Ellen he derived his own, and in her children found a source of amusement for his declining age.

Mr. Talton was justified in his choice of Mrs. Blond; nor had either of them cause to regret the day on which they were united. So far from deeming her remembrance of Corbet or Blond a slight to himself, he would join her in the praise he thought justly due to their merits. This behaviour increased the regard of his wife; and if a sigh sometimes obtruded for their unhappy fate, the recollection of Talton never failed to restore her cheerfulness.

For Mrs. St. Ledger (the once unfortunate Sister FranÇoise), Louise retained the sincerest regard; whilst the friendship of that amiable woman fully recompensed her for the loss of her mother.—Three years after her marriage, the Marquis de Valois and his family returned to France, whither Harland attended his Louise, and they passed some months at the seat of that nobleman. On their return to England, in which they were accompanied by the Marchioness and her daughters, they were surprised, on entering Abbeville, by the appearance of Mallet; his dress immediately informed them he was in the service of the French Monarch, though in the lowest rank. He as instantly recognized Louise, who, with mingled sensations of pleasure and grief, received his embrace. He had, on quitting England, proceeded to Paris, where the gaming-table soon despoiled him of the wealth he had obtained from Lady Corbet. He then for some time gained a precarious livelihood, by practising those wiles by which himself had been defrauded; but being detected, was obliged to fly, and as a last resource for the preservation of existence, had taken up a musket. These adventures, glossed over with the title of misfortunes, fully awakened the pity of Harland, who readily complied with the wish of Louise, to settle an annuity on him for life; he would have urged his return to England, but Mallet declared his resolution never to revisit his native country. He had, he said, since the death of Lady Corbet, entered into other engagements, which he by no means wished to break, though he declared himself extremely willing to quit the army. They accordingly procured his discharge, and presenting him with a sum of money for immediate use, he set out for the south of France, where he proposed to fix his residence, whilst Harland and Louise continued their way toward England, where the society of her friends soon obliterated the painful remembrance of an unworthy parent.

Old Thomas, at his earnest solicitation, still continued with Sir Henry; who, feeling himself indebted to that faithful servant for the restoration of his fortune, would have made him independent: but no consideration could induce him to accept of any reward which should separate him from his master; with whom he begged he might pass the remainder of his days. Sir Henry yielded to his wish; and by every indulgence strove to requite the services he had rendered him.

Sir Henry, satisfied with his own conduct, could look back on every action without regret, and to each succeeding day with confidence and pleasure. Revered by his dependants, and esteemed by all who knew him, he experienced the true delight of a benevolent heart; whilst in the affection of Eliza and his children, and the warm attachment of his friends, he found a recompence for the sorrows he had formerly known.

THE END.

Printed by C. Spilsbury, Angel-Court, Snowhill.