you will remember, he ran away himself; and you know that now
I gladly would receive him: we are all prodigal sons together, and if
God can bear with us, Jane, we ought to look kindly on each other."

"Ha! that's always the way with old sinners like you--canting
hypocrites! Be a man, General Tracy, if you can, and talk sense. I never
did any harm or sin in all my life yet, and don't intend to: and my
poor boy Julian's well enough, if they'd only let him alone; but nobody
understands his heart but me. Good boy, I'm sure there's virtue enough
left in him, if he loves his mother."--_If_ he loves his mother.

"Jane, dear, I sent for you to kiss you; for I could not die in peace,
nor live in peace (whichever God may please), without your pardon, Jane,
for a thousand unkindnesses--but, especially for the sin that gave me
Emily. Forgive me this, my wife."

"Never, sir!" rejoined that miserable mind; and fancied that she was
acting virtuously. She thrust aside the kindly proffered hand; scowled
at him with darkened brow; drew up her commanding height; and, calling
Mrs. Siddons to remembrance, brushed away in the indignant attitude of a
tragedy queen.

Emmy ran again to her father, and the vain bad mother to her bottle; we
must leave them to their various avocations.

CHAPTER XXIV.

CHARLES DELAYED.

FEW things could well be more unlikely than that Emily should hear of
Charles again before she saw him: for, having left Madras as speedily as
might be, now that his mission was so easily, yet so naturally,
accomplished--having posted, as we know, his overland letter--and having
got on board the fast-sailing ship Samarang, Captain Trueman, Charles,
in the probable course of things, if he wrote at all, must have been his
own postman. But the Fates--(our Christianity can afford to wink now and
then at Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos; for, at any rate, they are as
reasonable creatures as Chance, Luck, and Accident,)--the Fates willed
it otherwise: and, accordingly, it is in my power to lay before the
reader another genuine lucubration of Charles Tracy.

A change had come over the spirit of their dream, those youthful lovers:
and agonizing doubt must rack their hearts, threatening to rend them
both asunder. It is evident to me that Charles's letter (which Emily
showed to me with a melancholy face) was on principle less warm, less
dottable with stars, and more conversant with things of this world;
high, firm, honourable pr