r year, to see you follow the example of Ellen, provided you can
choose as well as she has done."

"It is the only thing in which I cannot obey you, my dear mother," replied
Matilda.

Hurt with the extreme paleness which overspread the countenance of their
inestimable son, Mr. and Mrs. Harewood withdrew to the window; and Ellen,
whose heart wanted a pretext for watching the arrival of Belmont, joined
them; when Mrs. Hanson, drawing closer to Edmund, said--"I fear you will
not soon join these marrying people, my young friend?"

"I shall never marry, madam," answered he abruptly.

"_Never!_ you are too positive, sir; men at your age change their minds
frequently."

"Matilda knows that I am not subject to change; she may accuse me of many
errors, but not of that."

"I can accuse _you_ of _nothing_," said Matilda; "I wish you could say the
same of me."

"Matilda! Miss Hanson! I accuse you! what right have I to accuse you?"

"Every right. I behaved ill--you condemned me--I saw you did; and--you
punished me. I felt your punishment last night--to-day you forgive me; and
your forgiveness is--why should I not own it? is dear to me."

"Oh, Matilda, do not distract me by this generosity! you will throw me off
my guard--you will induce me to make a declaration that may part us for
ever."

Edmund looked at Mrs. Hanson; her brow was open, pleasure swam in her eye,
and she held her hand towards him as she said--"My dear Edmund, allow me to
ask what you mean by that look of mistrust to me? what right have you to
suppose that I am less generous than yourself, or that I desire to see my
child ungrateful to her young preceptor, or insensible of his merits?"

"Madam! Matilda! what does all this mean? is it possible that I can have
obtained such an advocate as Mrs. Hanson?"

"Edmund, can you really want an advocate with poor erring Matilda? or can
you for a moment accuse her of a fault, which never yet came amongst the
numerous catalogue of her early sins?"

Mrs. Hanson joined the group at the window, and in a few moments they all
descended together, to welcome Charles and Belmont, who soon understood the
happy footing on which those so dear to them were placed; and Charles
enjoyed a hearty laugh at the jealousy he had excited, though he could not
regret a circumstance which had in any measure led to a conclusion so
desirable.

When poor Zebby, whose sable forehead was now shaded by gray locks, was
told all that had happene