Algernon, what is the matter?--what has
happened?--are you in your senses? Speak!--speak!"

"Read!" answered he, faintly, placing the letters in her hand: "Read,
Ella--read!"

Ella hesitated a moment on the propriety of complying with his request,
but a moment only; and the next she turned to one of the epistles. It
was from the father of Algernon, and ran as follows:

"DEAR SON:--If in the land of the living, return as speedily as possible
to your afflicted and anxious parents, who are even now mourning you as
dead. You can return in safety; for your cousin, whom you supposed you
had fatally wounded, recovered therefrom, and publicly exonerated you
from all blame in the matter. He is now, however, no more--having died
of late. Elvira, his wife, is also dead. She died insane. As a partial
restitution for the injury done you, your cousin has made you heir, by
will, to all his property, real estate and personal, amounting, it is
said, to over twenty thousand dollars. Your mother is in feeble health,
caused by anxiety on your account. For further information, inquire of
the messenger who will bear you this.

Your affectionate father,
ALBERT REYNOLDS."
Nov. 12th, 1782.

The other epistle was from a lawyer, informing Reynolds of his
acquisition to a large amount of property, by a will of his late cousin;
and that he, the said lawyer, being executor thereof, required the
presence of him, the said Reynolds, or his proxy forthwith.

"I knew it: I felt that all would yet be well: I told you to hope for
the best!" cried Ella, as she concluded the letter, her eyes moist with
tears, and her face beaming like the sun through a summer shower.

"God bless you, dearest Ella--you did indeed!" exclaimed Reynolds,
suddenly, bounding from his seat and clasping her in his arms. "You did
indeed tell me to hope--and you told me truly;" and he pressed kiss
after kiss, again and again, upon her sweet lips, with all the wild,
trembling, rapturous feelings of a lover in his first ecstasy of bliss,
when he has surmounted all obstacles, and gained the heart of the being
he loves.

"Now, dearest Ella," continued Algernon, when the excitement of the
moment had been succeeded by a calmer, though not less blissful mood:
"Now, dearest Ella, I am free--my sacred oath binds me no longer--and
now can I say, with propriet