transported hither. Thus may be explained the sorrow that veils their
countenance. The loss of estates and honours; the untimely death of
kindred, and perhaps of his wife, may furnish eternal food for regrets.
Welbeck's utterance, though rapid and distinct, partook, as I conceived,
in some very slight degree of a foreign idiom.

Such was the dream that haunted my undisciplined and unenlightened
imagination. The more I revolved it, the more plausible it seemed. On
due supposition every appearance that I had witnessed was easily
solved,--unless it were their treatment of me. This, at first, was a
source of hopeless perplexity. Gradually, however, a clue seemed to be
afforded. Welbeck had betrayed astonishment on my first appearance. The
lady's wonder was mingled with distress. Perhaps they discovered a
remarkable resemblance between me and one who stood in the relation of
son to Welbeck, and of brother to the lady. This youth might have
perished on the scaffold or in war. These, no doubt, were his clothes.
This chamber might have been reserved for him, but his death left it to
be appropriated to another.

I had hitherto been unable to guess at the reason why all this kindness
had been lavished on me. Will not this conjecture sufficiently account
for it? No wonder that this resemblance was enhanced by assuming his
dress.

Taking all circumstances into view, these ideas were not, perhaps,
destitute of probability. Appearances naturally suggested them to me.
They were, also, powerfully enforced by inclination. They threw me into
transports of wonder and hope. When I dwelt upon the incidents of my
past life, and traced the chain of events, from the death of my mother
to the present moment, I almost acquiesced in the notion that some