bless them in each other once again.
Only look at this _billet-doux_ from Charles, just come in, and dated
Plymouth:
"Huzzah--for Emily and England: huzzah for the land of freedom! no
secrets now--dear, dear old Jeanie Mackie has given me proofs positive:
all I have to wish is that she could move: but she is very ill; so, as
we touched here on the voyage up channel, I landed her and myself,
thinking to kiss, within a day, my darling Emmy. But I cannot get her
out of bed this morning, and dare not leave her: though an hour's delay
seems almost insupportable. If I possibly can manage it, I will bring
the dear old faithful creature, wrapped in blankets, by chaise
to-morrow. Tell my father all this: and say to him--he will understand,
perhaps, though you may not, my blessed girl--say to him, that 'he is
mistaken, and all are mistaken--you are not what they think you.' A
thousand kisses. Expect, then, on bright to-morrow to see your happy,
happy
"CHARLES."
"P.S. Hip! hip! hip!--huzzah!"
Dearest Emily had taken up the note with fears and trembling: she laid
it down, as they that reap in joy; and I never in my life saw any thing
so beautiful as her eyes at that glad minute; the smile through the
tear, the light through the gloom, the verdure of high summer springing
through the Alpine snows, the mild and lustrous moon emerging from a
baffled thunder-cloud.
And, although the general mournfully shook his head, distrustfully and
despondingly; though he only uttered, "Poor children--dear
children--would to Heaven that it could be so;"--and he, for one, was
evidently innoculated, as before, with all the old thoughts of gloom,
sadness, and anxiety;--still Emily hoped--for Charles hoped--and Jeanie
Mackie was so certain.
CHAPTER XXVI.
JULIAN.
NEXT day, a fine summer afternoon, when our feeble convalescents had
gone out together, they found the fresh air so invigorating, and
themselves so much stronger, that they prolonged their walk half-way to
Oxton. The pasture-meadows, rich and rank, were alive with flocks and
herds; the blue sea lazily beat time, as, ticking out the seconds, it
melodiously broke upon the sleeping shore; the darkly-flowing Mullet
swept sounding to the sea between its tortuous banks; and upon that old
high foot-path skirting the stream, now shady with hazels, and now
flowery with meadow-sweet, crept our chastened pair.
Just as th
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