nderstand me, if you tell him I forgive him, and will never say one
word about our little tiff. And now dearest Emmy--"

[The remainder of this letter must, believe me, be as starry as before.]

* * * * *

CHAPTER XXII.

REVELATIONS.

GENERAL TRACY gave a long-drawn sigh: and tears--tears of true
affection--stood in those most fish-like eyes, as he mournfully said,
"Bless him, bless dear Charles, almost as much as you, my own sweet
Emmy. Heaven send it be true--for Heaven can work miracles. But without
a miracle, Emily, in sober sadness I declare it, you must forget--_your
brother Charles, my daughter_!"

Emily fell flat upon her face, so cold, so white, that he believed her
dead.

Oh! that he had never--never said that word: or better still, poor
father, that you had never kept the dreadful secret from them. The
adultery, indeed, was sin; but years of ill-concealings have multiplied
its punishment. Wretched father--wretched children! that must bear an
erring father's curse.

Oh! that Jeanie Mackie may have reasons, proofs; and be not an impostor
after all, dressing up a tale that over-sanguine Charles may bring her
back again to Scotland. Well--well! I am full of sadness and
perplexities: but we shall hear it out anon. Heaven help them!

Emily was taken very ill, and had a long fit of sickness. Day and
night--night and day, did her poor wasting anxious father watch by her
bed-side, gentle as the gentlest nurse--tender as the tenderest of
mothers. And, indeed, the Lord of Life and Wisdom was gracious to them
both; raising up the poor weak child again; and teaching that old man,
through this daughter of his shame and sin in youth, that religion is a
cure for all things. Ay, "the blessed angel of a bad man's life,"
indeed--indeed was she; and he humbly knelt, as little children kneel,
that hard and dried old man; and his eyes caught the ray of Heaven's
mercy, looking up in joy to read forgiveness; and his heart was bathed
in penitence--the rock flowed out amain; and his mind was quickened into
faith--he lived, he breathed "a new-born babe," that poor and bad old
man, given to the prayers of his own daughter!

All this while, Mrs. Tracy, thrown upon her own resources, has been
continually tasting dear Julian's store, and finding out excuses for his
trivial peccadilloes. And when, from the recesses of his desk, she had
routed out (in company with sundry more, rather contras