me; should it, however, survive its unfortunate mother, promise me,
Algernon, by the love of our early years, to be a guardian and protector
to my child."

She endeavored to sink at his feet, but Algernon prevented her.

"Your request is granted, Elinor, and for the dear mother's sake, I
promise to cherish the infant as my own."

"It is enough. I thank my God for this great mercy; and now that I have
been permitted to clear my character, leave me, Algernon, and take my
blessing with you. Only remember in your prayers that such a miserable
wretch as Elinor Wildegrave still lives."

The violent ringing of the miser's bell hurried her away. Algernon
remained for some minutes rooted to the spot, his heart still heaving
with the sense of intolerable wrong. Elinor did not again appear; and
descending to what was once the Servants' Hall, he bade Ruth summon his
attendants, and slipping a guinea into that delighted damsel's hand, he
bade a long adieu to the home of his ancestors.




CHAPTER VI.

Oh, what a change--a goodly change!
I, too, am changed. I feel my heart expand;
My spirit, long bowed down with misery,
Grow light and buoyant 'mid these blessed scenes.--S.M.