father. So Wardlaw was gone to England without her. Seaton trembled with
joy. Presently his goddess began to lament in the prettiest way. "Papa!
papa!" she sighed, "why must friends part in this sad world? Poor Arthur
is gone from me; and, by and by, I shall go from you, my own papa." And
at that prospect she wept gently.

"Why, you foolish child!" said the old general tenderly, "what matters a
little parting, when we are all to meet again in dear old England. Well
then, there, have a cry; it will do you good." He patted her head
tenderly as she clung to his warlike breast; and she took him at his
word; the tears ran swiftly and glistened in the very starlight.

But, oh, how Seaton's heart yearned at all this!

What? mustn't _he_ say a word to comfort her; he who, at that moment,
would have thought no more of dying to serve her or to please her than he
would of throwing one of those pebbles into that slimy water.

Well, her pure tears somehow cooled his hot brain, and washed his soul,
and left him wondering at himself and his misdeeds this night. His
guardian angel seemed to go by and wave her dewy wings, and fan his hot
passions as she passed.

He kneeled down and thanked God he had not met Arthur Wardlaw in that
dark lane.

Then he went home to his humble lodgings, and there buried himself; and
from that day seldom went out, except to seek employment. He soon
obtained it as a copyist.