r all? And, for once in his life, Julian had some
repentant feelings; for thrilling hope was nigh to cheer his gloom.

It really seemed as if Emily, sweet innocent, could read his inmost
thoughts. "At any rate," observed she, playfully, "Bayard may take the
postman's privilege, and see the outside."

With that, she produced the ship-letter that had put her in such
spirits, legibly dated some twenty-two days ago. Yes, Charles's hand,
sure enough! Julian could swear to it among a thousand. And he fainted
dead away.

What an astonishing event! how Mrs. Tracy praised her noble-spirited
boy! How the bells rang! and hot water, and cold water, and salts, and
rubbings, and _eau de Cologne_, and all manner of delicate attentions,
long sustained, at length contributed to Julian's restoration. Moreover,
even Emily was agreeably surprised; she had never seen him in so amiable
a light before; this was all feeling, all affection for his brother--her
dear--dear Charles. And when Mrs. Tracy heard what Emily said of
Julian's feeling heart, she became positively triumphant; not half so
much at Charles's safety, and all that, as at Julian's burst of feeling.
She was quite right, after all; he was worthy to be her favourite, and
she felt both flattered and obliged to him for fainting dead away.
"Yes--yes, my dear Miss Warren, depend upon it Julian has fine feelings,
and a good heart." And Emily began to condemn both Charles and herself
for lack of charity, and to think so too.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE TETE-A-TETE.

NO sooner had "dear Julian" recovered, which he really had not quite
accomplished until the day had begun to wear away (so great a shock had
that intelligence of Charles been to his guilty mind), than the
gratified and prudent mother fancied this a famous opportunity to leave
the young couple to themselves. It was after dinner, when they had
retired to the drawing-room; and I will say that Emily had never seemed
so favourably disposed towards that rough, but generous, heart before.
So then, on some significant pretence, well satisfied her favourite was
himself again, as bold, and black, and boisterous as ever, the masculine
mother kissed her hand to them, as a fat fairy might be supposed to do,
and operatically tripped away, coyly bidding Emily "take care of Julian
till she should come back again."

The momentary gleam of good which glanced across that bad man's heart
has faded away hours ago; his repentant thoughts ha