Many a time, on the lone bivouac, when home presents itself in its
fairest colours to the soldier's mind, would Delme's prayer be embodied,
that his house might again be elevated, and that his descendants might
know _him_ as the one to whom they were indebted for its rise. Delme's
ambitious thoughts were created amidst dangers and toil, in a foreign
land, and far from those who shared his name. But his heart swelled high
with them as he again trod his native soil in peace--as he gazed on the
home of his fathers, and communed with those nearest and dearest to him
on earth. Sir Henry considered it incumbent on him to exert every means
that lay in his power to promote his grand object. A connection that
promised rank and honours, seemed to him an absolute essential that was
worth any sacrifice. Sir Henry never allowed himself to look for, or
give way to, those sacred sympathies, which the God of nature hath
implanted in the breasts of all of us. Delme had arrived at middle age
ere a feeling incompatible with his views arose. But his had been a
dangerous experiment. Our hearts or minds, or whatever it may be that
takes the impression, resemble some crystalline lake that mirrors the
smallest object, and heightens its beauty; but if it once gets muddied
or ruffled, the most lovely object ceases to be reflected in its waters.
By the time that lake is clear again, the fairy form that ere while
lingered on its bosom is fled for ever.

Thus much in introducing the head of the family. Let us now attempt to
sketch the gentle Emily.

Emily Delme was not an ordinary being. To uncommon talents, and a mind
of most refined order, she united great feminine propriety, and a total
absence of those arts which sometimes characterise those to whom the
accident of birth has given importance. With unerring discrimination,
she drew the exact line between vivacity and satire, true religion and