must be so, I know it. But, after a little while may you be happy again,
not so buoyant as you have been, that can never be, but still happy!--You
are formed for love and home, and for those ties you once thought would
be mine. God grant that I may have suffered for us both, and that when we
meet hereafter, you may tell me you have been happy here!"

"But you, father," added Madeline, tearing herself from the neck of her
weeping sister, and sinking on her knees before Lester, who leaned
against the wall convulsed with his emotions, and covering his face with
his hands--"but you,--what can I say to you?--You, who have never,--no,
not in my first childhood, said one harsh word to me--who have sunk all a
father's authority in a father's love,--how can I say all that I feel for
you?--the grateful overflowing, (paining, yet--oh, how sweet!)
remembrances which crowd around and suffocate me now?--The time will come
when Ellinor and Ellinor's children must be all in all to you--when of
your poor Madeline nothing will be left but a memory; but they, they will
watch on you and tend you, and protect your grey hairs from sorrow, as I
might once have hoped I also was fated to do."

"My child! my child! you break my heart!" faltered forth at last the poor
old man, who till now had in vain endeavoured to speak.

"Give me your blessing, dear father," said Madeline, herself overcome by
her feelings;--"Put your hand on my head and bless me--and say, that if I
have ever unconsciously given you a moment's pain--I am forgiven!"

"Forgiven!" repeated Lester, raising his daughter with weak and trembling
arms as his tears fell fast upon her cheek,--"Never did I feel what an
angel had sate beside my hearth till now!--But be comforted--be cheered.
What, if Heaven had reserved its crowning mercy till this day, and Eugene