ed generosity."

At this moment the Captain re-entered.

Mr. Talton beheld with concern his encreasing melancholy, and for some
time strove to divert it; but finding all his efforts ineffectual, he at
last said--

"What, Howard, is the cause of the dejection which oppresses you? That
cloud on your brow is by no means flattering to my present visit, and
but little accords with your professions of friendship, or the honest
pleasure that yesterday enlivened your features. I know you too well to
think it occasioned by any trivial circumstances: what then, my friend,
is the reason?--Your wife, you say, is well."

"Name her not, I entreat," replied the Captain, severely hurt at the
reproach of his friend. "She is, indeed, the source of all my
unhappiness!"

"The source of your unhappiness!" repeated Mr. Talton. "Surely, Howard,
I do not understand you, or your sentiments are strangely altered since
the time I gave the lovely Ellenor Worton to your arms. Then--"

"Oh, Talton," interrupted the Captain, "cease this subject, I conjure
you. Ellenor Worton! My God, what ideas does that name recall! Yes, far
above my life I prized her: but those days are for ever fled! I am
wretched, and she is now a friendless fugitive in a merciless world!"

"What mean you, Howard?" asked Mr. Talton. "There is a mystery in your
words I do not understand."

"Then I will explain them," returned the Captain. "Your friendship, your
honour, I have proved; and when you hear my tale, you will not wonder
why, on beholding the friend of my earlier days, instead of smiles, my
countenance should thus wear the semblance of sorrow and regret."

Frederick would here have retired, as imagining what his uncle had to
impart, he might wish should only reach the knowledge of his friend;
but the Captain bade him resume his seat.--"From my errors," he added,
"you may learn to avoid their attending unhappiness."

Frederick obeyed; and the Captain, addressing Mr. Talton, continued.

"At the commencement of our acquaintance, I believe, I informed you I
was a younger son, brought up to the sea, and deprived of the fortune I
expected, by the marriage of my elder brother. I was, at the period of
that marriage, seventeen. Sir Thomas Gratton, the father of the lady my
brother espoused, refused his consent to their union, unless Arthur's
fortune were made adequate to the one he gave his daughter; and my
father, overcome by the entreaties of my brother, and perhaps