For life, I prize it,
As I weigh grief which I would spare; for honor,
'Tis a derivative from me to mine,
And only that I stand for.
—Shakspeare.

That same evening, while our party was assembled at tea in their private parlor, at the "Highlander," a letter was brought to Judge Merlin.

It was a formidable-looking letter, with a black border an inch wide running around the envelope, and sealed with a great round of black wax, impressed with an earl's coronet. The judge opened it and read it and passed it to Ishmael.

It proved to be a letter from the Earl of Hurstmonceux and addressed to Judge Merlin. I have not space to give the contents of this letter word for word.

It set forth, in effect, that under the recent distressing circumstances it would be too painful to the Earl of Hurstmonceux to meet Judge Merlin in a personal interview, but that the earl wished to make an act of restitution, and so, if Judge Merlin would dispatch his solicitor to London to the chambers of the Messrs. Hudson, in Burton Street, Piccadilly, those gentlemen, who were the solicitors of his lordship, would be prepared to restore to Lady Vincent the fortune she had brought in marriage to her husband, the late Lord Vincent.

"You will go to London and attend to this matter for me, Ishmael?" inquired the Judge, as he received the letter back, after the young man had read it.

"Why, certainly, Judge Merlin. Who should act for you but myself?" said Ishmael, with an affectionate smile.

"But it may be inconvenient for you to go just now?" suggested the judge.

"Oh, no, not at all! In fact, judge, I was intending to go up to
London to join Mr. Brudenell there in a very few days. I was only
waiting for this trial to be concluded before setting out," smiled
Ishmael.

"Papa, what is it that you are talking about? What letter is that?" inquired Claudia, while Lady Hurstmonceux looked the question she forbore to ask.

For all answer the judge placed the letter in the hands of his daughter, and then, turning to the countess, said:

"It is a communication from Lord Hurstmonceux, referring us to his solicitors in London, whom he has instructed to make restitution of the whole of my daughter's fortune."

"The Earl of Hurstmonceux is an honorable man. But he has been singularly unfortunate in his family. His brother and his sons, who seem to have taken more after their uncle than their father, have all turned out badly and given him much trouble," said the countess.

"His brother? I know of course the career of his sons; but I did not know anything about his brother," said Judge Merlin.

"He was the Honorable Dromlie Dugald, Captain in the Tenth Highlanders, a man whose society was avoided by all good women. And yet I had cause to know him well," answered the countess, as a cloud passed over her beautiful face.

"You, Berenice!" said Claudia, looking up in surprise; for it was passing strange to hear that pure and noble woman acknowledge an acquaintance with a man of whom she had just said that every good woman avoided his society.

"I!" repeated the counters solemnly.

There was certainly fate in the next words she spoke:

"This Captain Dugald was a near relative and great favorite with my first husband, the old Earl of Hurstmonceux; chiefly, I think, for the exuberant gayety of temper and disposition of the young man, that always kept the old one amused. But after the earl married me he turned a cold shoulder to the captain, and complimented me by being jealous of him. This occasioned gossip, in which my good name suffered some injustice."

The countess paused, and turned her beautiful eyes appealingly to
Ishmael, saying:

"When you shall become one of the lawgivers of your native country, young gentleman, I hope that the crime of slander will be made a felony, indictable before your criminal courts."

"If I had the remodeling of the laws," said Ishmael earnestly, "slander should be made felonious and punishable as theft is."

"But, dear Berenice, the gossip of which you speak could have done you no lasting injury," said Claudia.

"'No lasting injury.' Well, no eternal injury, I hope, if you mean that," sighed the countess.

"No, I mean to say that a woman like yourself lives down calumny."

"Ah! but in the living it down, how much of heartwasting."

The countess dropped her head upon her hand for a moment, while all her long black ringlets fell around and veiled her pale and thoughtful face. Then, looking up, she said:

"I think I will tell you all about it. Something, I know not what, impels me to speak tonight, in this little circle of select friends, on a theme on which I have been silent for years. Claudia, my dearest, if the jealousy of my old husband and the gossip of my envious rivals had been all, that would not have hurt me so much. But there was worse to come. The wretch, denied admittance to our house, pursued me with his attentions elsewhere; whenever and wherever I walked or rode out he would be sure to join me. I have said such was his evil reputation, that his society would have brought reproach to any woman, under any circumstances; judge you, then, what it must have brought upon me, the young wife of an old man!"

"Had you no male relative to chastise the villain and send him about his business?" inquired the judge.

Berenice smiled sadly and shook her head.

"My husband and my father were both very old men," she said; "I had but one resource—to confine myself to the house and deny myself to visitors. We were then living in our town house in Edinboro'. There my old husband died, and there I spent the year of my widowhood. There my father came to me, and also my kinsman Isaacs."

"Isaacs!" impulsively exclaimed Ishmael, as his thoughts flew back to his Hebrew fellow-passenger.

"Yes; did you know him?"

"I knew a Jew of that name; most probably the same; but I beg your pardon, dear lady; pray proceed with your narrative."

"I mentioned my kinsman Isaacs, because I always suspected him to be a party to a stratagem formed by Captain Dugald at that time to get me into his power. Captain Dugald scarcely let the first six months of my widowhood pass by before he began to lay siege to my house; not to me personally; for I always denied myself to him. But he came on visits to my kinsman Isaacs, with whom he had struck up a great intimacy. He had much at stake, you see, for in the first place he did me the honor to approve of me personally, and in the second place he highly approved of my large fortune. So he persevered with all the zeal of a lover and all the tact of a fortune-hunter. Several times, through the connivance of my kinsman, he contrived to surprise me into an interview, and upon each occasion he urged his suit; but of course, in vain. Captain Dugald was what is called a 'dare-devil,' and I think he rather gloried in that name. He acted upon the maxim that 'all stratagems are fair in love as in war.' And he resorted to a stratagem to get me into his power, and reduce me to the alternative of marrying him or losing my good name forever."

"Good Heaven! he did not attempt to carry you off by violence," exclaimed Claudia.

The countess laughed.

"Oh, no, my dear! Such things are never attempted in this age of the world. Captain Dugald was far too astute to break the laws. I will tell you just how it was, as it came to my knowledge. My town house fronted immediately on Prince's Street. You know what a thoroughfare that is? My bedroom and dressing room were on the second floor—the bedroom being at the back, and the dressing room in front, with three large windows overlooking the street. Large double doors connected the bedroom with the dressing room. I am thus particular in describing the locality that you may better understand the villainy of the stratagem," said the countess, looking around upon her friends.

They nodded assent, and she resumed:

"From some peculiar sensitiveness of temperament, I can never sleep unless every ray of light is shut out from my chamber. Thus, at bedtime I have all my windows closed, their shutters fastened and their curtains drawn, lest the first dawn of morning should awaken me prematurely. Another constitutional idiosyncrasy of mine is the necessity of a great deal of air. Therefore I always had the doors between my bedroom and my dressing room left open."

"After all, that is like my own need; I require a great deal of air also," said Claudia.

"Well, now to my story. On a certain spring morning, in the beginning of the second year of my widowhood, I was awakened very early by a glare of light in my bedroom. On looking up, I saw through the open doors connecting my bedroom with my dressing room that the three front windows of the dressing room, overlooking the street, were open, and all the morning sunlight was pouring in. My first emotion was anger with my maid for opening them so soon to wake me up. I got out of bed, slipped on a dressing-gown and went into the front room. Now judge what my feelings must have been to see there Captain Dugald in his shirt-sleeves, standing before one of the front windows deliberately brushing his hair, in the full view of all the passengers of the street below."

"Great Heaven!" exclaimed Claudia.

"I could not speak," continued the countess. "I could only stand and gaze at the man in speechless amazement. But he was not dismayed. He burst into a loud laugh, and laughed himself out of breath—for he was a great laugher. When he found his tongue, he said to me:

"'You had as well give in now, my lady. The fortress is sapped, the mine is exploded. The city is taken. Hundreds of people, passing up and down the street before this house, have looked up at these windows and seen me standing here half-dressed. And they have formed their opinions, and made their comments, and circulated their news accordingly; and so, if our marriage be not published this morning, you may judge what the consequences will be—to yourself.'"

"What a villain!" said Judge Merlin.

"Astonishment had struck me dumb in the first instance; and anger kept me silent," continued the countess. "I know what I ought to have done. I know that I ought to have summoned the police and given the man in charge on the spot, as a common burglar and housebreaker: only you see I did not think of it at the time. I only rang the bell, and then, without waiting the arrival of my servant, I opened the door and pointed silently to it. He made no motion to go; on the contrary, he began to defend his act, to plead his cause, and to urge his suit. He said 'that all stratagems were fair in love and war'; that it was now absolutely necessary for my fair name that we should be immediately married; that the bride he had won by fraud should be worn with faithfulness. But, with an unmoved countenance, I only pointed to the door, until my servant came in answer to the bell. Then I told that servant to show Captain Dugald out, and if he refused to go to summon assistance and eject him. Seeing that I was determined to be rid of him, he put on his coat, and, laughing at my discomfiture, took his departure. Then I instituted inquiries; but failed to gain any information respecting his means of entrance and concealment in my apartments. I strongly suspected my kinsman Isaacs of being the accomplice of Captain Dugald; but I had no means of ascertaining the fact by questioning him, as he went away that same morning and never returned. The adventure, of course, did me some harm at the time; but the unprincipled hero of it reaped no advantage. He doubtless thought me another Lucretia, who would sacrifice the reality to preserve the semblance of honor. He hoped to find in me one who, in the base fear of being falsely condemned, would marry a man I despised, and thus really deserve condemnation. He was disappointed! From that hour I forbade him the house, and I have never seen him since. A year later I married another," added the countess, in a voice so subdued that, at the close of the sentence, it gradually sank into silence.

Ishmael's beautiful eyes had been bent upon her all the time; now his whole face lighted up with a smile as of a newly inspired, benevolent hope.

"You were right-entirely right, Lady Hurstmonceux, in thus vindicating the dignity of womanhood. And I do not believe that any lasting blame, growing out of a misunderstanding of the circumstances, could have attached to you," said Ishmael earnestly.

"No, indeed, there was not. And soon after that event I left Edinboro' for the south coast of England, and at Brighton"—here the voice of the countess sank almost to an inaudible whisper—"at Brighton I met and married another. And now let us talk of something else, Ishmael," she concluded, turning an affectionate glance upon the sympathetic face of the young man. For there was a wonderful depth of sympathy between this queenly woman of forty-five and this princely young man of twenty-two. On her side there was the royal, benignant, tender friendship with which such sovereign ladies regard such young men; while, on his side, there was the loyal devotion with which such young men worship such divinities. Such a friendship is a blessing when it is understood; a curse when it is misapprehended.

Ishmael turned the conversation to the subject of the act of restitution proposed by the Earl of Hurstmonceux.

Ishmael now possessed the only clear, cool, and undisturbed intelligence of the whole party, who were all more or less shaken by the terrible events of the last few days. He had to think for them all. He announced his intention of departing for London on the ensuing Friday morning, and warned the judge that he should require his final instructions for acting in concert with the solicitors of the Earl of Hurstmonceux.

The judge promised that these should be ready, in writing, to place in his hands at the moment of his departure.

"And while I am in London, had I not better see the agents of the ocean steamers, and ascertain how soon we can obtain a passage home for our whole party? The termination of these trials, and the restitution of Lady Vincent's estate, really leave us nothing to do here; and we know that Lady Vincent is pining for the repose of her native home," said Ishmael.

"Certainly, certainly, Ishmael! The execution of Frisbie, the death of the viscount, the conviction of Mrs. Dugald, and the act of the Earl of Hurstmonceux, really, as you say, leave us free to go home. I myself, as well as Claudia, pine for my home. And you, Ishmael, though you have not said so, have sacrificed already too much of your professional interests to our necessities. You should be at your office. What on earth is becoming of your clients all this time?"

"I dare say they are taken good care of, sir. Do not think of me. Believe me, I have no interests dearer to my heart than the welfare and happiness of my friends. Then I shall engage a passage for us all, in the first available steamer?"

"I—I think so, Ishmael. There is nothing to keep us here longer that I know of; we have nothing to do," said the judge hesitatingly.

"I have something yet to do, before I return home," smiled Ishmael, with a quick and quickly withdrawn glance in the direction of the countess; "but I shall do it before we go, or if not I can remain behind for another steamer."

"No, no, Ishmael! You have stayed long with us; we will wait for you. What do you say, Claudia?"

Claudia said nothing.

Ishmael replied:

"I shall endeavor to accomplish all that I propose in time to accompany you, Judge Merlin. But if I should not be able to do so, still I think that you had better all go by the first steamer in which you can get a passage. You should, if possible, cross the ocean before March sets in, if you would have anything like a comfortable voyage."

"Heavens, yes! you are right, Ishmael. Our late voyage should teach me a lesson. I must not expose Claudia to the chances of such shipwreck as we suffered," said the judge gravely.

Ishmael turned and looked at Claudia. She had not once spoken since her name had been introduced into the conversation. She had sat there with her elbow on the table and her head bowed upon her hand, in mournful silence. She was looking perfectly beautiful in her widow's dress and cap—perfectly beautiful with that last divine, perfecting touch that sorrow gives to beauty. Surely Ishmael thought so as he looked at her. She lifted her drooping lids. Their eyes met; hers were suffused with tears; his were full of earnest sympathy.

"You shall not be exposed to shipwreck, Lady Vincent," he said, in a voice rich with tenderness.

Slowly and mournfully she shook her head.

"There are other wrecks," she said:

"'And I beneath a rougher sea,
O'erwhelmed in deeper gulfs may be.'"

The last words were breathed in a scarcely audible voice, and her head sank low upon her hand.

With a profound sigh, that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul, Ishmael turned away. Passing near the Countess of Hurstmonceux, he bent his head and murmured:

"Lady Vincent seems very weary."

The countess took the hint and rang for the bedroom candles, and when they were brought, the party bade each other goodnight, separated, and retired.

Early the next morning they set out for Edinboro', where they arrived about midday.

The Countess of Hurstmonceux's servants, who had received telegraphic orders from her ladyship, were waiting at the station with carriages. The whole party entered these and drove to Cameron Court, where they arrived in time for an early dinner.

After this, Ishmael and Judge Merlin were closeted in the library, and engaged upon the preliminary measures for a final arrangement with the Earl of Hurstmonceux's solicitors.

The judge, in his good opinion of the earl, would have trusted to a simple, informal rendition of his daughter's fortune; but Ishmael, the ever-watchful guardian of her interests, warned her father that every legal form must be scrupulously observed in the restoration of the property, lest in the event of the death of the Earl of Hurstmonceux his brother and successor, the disreputable Captain Dugald, should attempt to disturb her in its possession.

The judge acquiesced, and this business occupied the friends the whole of that afternoon. In the evening they joined the ladies at their tea-table, in the little drawing room. After tea, when the service was removed, they gathered around the table in social converse.

A servant brought in a small parcel that looked like a case of jewelry done up in paper, and laid it before the countess.

She smiled, with a deprecating look, as she took it up and opened it and passed it around to her friends for inspection. It was a miniature of the countess herself, painted on ivory. It was a faithful likeness, apparently very recently taken; for, on looking at it, you seemed to see the beautiful countess herself on a diminished scale, or through an inverted telescope.

"It has been making a visit," smiled the countess. "A poor young artist in Edinboro' is getting up a 'Book of Beauty' on his own account. He came here in person to beg the loan of one of my portraits to engrave from. I gave him this, because it was the last I had taken. I gave it to him because a refusal from me would have wounded his feelings and discouraged his enterprise. Otherwise, I assure you, I should not have let him have it for any such purpose as he designed. For the idea of putting my portrait in a 'Book of Beauty' is a rich absurdity."

"Pardon me; I do not see the absurdity at all," said Ishmael earnestly, as in his turn he received the miniature and gazed with admiration on its beautiful features.

"Young gentleman, I am forty-five," said the countess.

Ishmael gave a genuine start of surprise. He knew of course that she must have been of that age, but he had forgotten the flight of time, and the announcement startled him. He soon recovered himself, however, and answered with his honest smile:

"Well, my lady, if you are still beautiful at forty-five, you cannot help it, and you cannot prevent artistic eyes from seeing it. I, as one of your friends, am glad and grateful for it. And I hope you will remain as beautiful in form as in spirit even to the age of seventy-five, or as long after that as you may live in this world."

"Thank you, Mr. Worth. I really do value praise from you, because I know that it is sincere on your part, if not merited on mine," said Lady Hurstmonceux.

Ishmael bowed low and in silence. Then he resumed his contemplation of the picture. And presently he looked up and said:

"Lady Hurstmonceux, I am going to ask you a favor. Will you lend me this picture for a week?"

The countess was a little surprised at the request. She looked up at
Ishmael before answering it.

Their eyes met. Some mutual intelligence passed in those meeting glances. And she then answered:

"Yes, Mr. Worth. I will intrust it to you as long as you would like to keep it; without reserve, and without even asking you what you wish to do with it."

Again Ishmael bowed, and then he closed the case of the miniature and deposited it in his breast-pocket.

"I hope that youth is not falling in love with his grandmother. I have heard of such things in my life," thought the judge crossly within himself, for the judge was growing jealous for Claudia. He had apparently forgotten the existence of Bee.

As Ishmael was to leave Cameron Court at a very early hour of the morning, before any of the family would be likely to be up to see him off, he took leave of his friends upon this evening, and retired early to his room to complete his preparations for the journey.