ant sufferings and her mother's
harshness and neglect, did Mrs. Hamilton wish such facts had from the
first been known to her; much sorrow, she felt assured, might have been
spared to all. She would perchance have been enabled to have so trained
her and soothed her early-wounded sensibility, that all the wretchedness
of her previous years might have been avoided, but she would not long
allow her mind to dwell on such things. She looked on her niece as
dearer than ever, from the narrative she had heard, and she was thankful
to behold her thus in radiant health and beauty, and, she hoped, in
happiness, although at times there was still a deeper shade of
seriousness than she loved to see imprinted on her brow, and dimming the
lustre of her eye, but it caused her no anxiety. Ellen's character had
never been one of light-hearted glee; it would have been unnatural to
see it now, and she believed that appearance of melancholy to be her
natural disposition, and so too, perhaps, the orphan regarded it
herself.

A very few weeks after Lord N----'s ball, Edward again departed from
Oakwood to join his ship. He parted gaily with his friends, for he knew
his voyage was to be but a short one; and that now the first and most
toilsome step to promotion had been gained, he should have very many
more opportunities of taking a run home and catching a glimpse, he said,
joyously, of the whole crew who were so dear to him, on board that tough
old ship Oakwood; and Ellen, too, could share his gaiety even the night
previous to his departure, for this was not like either their first or
second parting. She had all to hope and but little to fear; for her
trust was too firmly fixed on Him who had guarded that beloved brother
through so many previous dangers and temptations to bid her waver now.
Even Mrs. Hamilton's anxious bosom trembled not as she parted from the
son of her affections, the preserver of her husband; and though Oakwood
felt dull and gloomy on the first departure of the mischief-loving,
mirthful sailor, it was not the gloom of sorrow. February passed, and
Mrs. Hamilton's solicitude with regard to Emmeline still continued.
There were times when, deceived by her daughter's manner, lively and
playful apparently as usual, she permitted herself to feel less anxious;
but the pale cheek, the dulled eye, the air of languor, and sometimes,
though not often, of depression, which pervaded every movement, very
quickly recalled anxiety and appreh