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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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