ned to the house from which I had escaped so
mysteriously the last time I was in it. My mother threw herself in my
arms, embracing me, and then looking at me with surprise and pleasure.
Three years and a half had changed me; she hardly knew me, for her
association of ideas had still pictured me as the smart stripling whom
she had, with so much anguish, consigned into the hands of Bob Cross.
She was proud of me--my adventures, my dangers, my conduct, and my
honourable mention in the Gazette, were all known to her, and she had
been evidently congratulated by many upon my successful career. My
grandmother, who had grown much older in appearance, seemed to be
softened towards me, and I had sense enough to receive her advances with
great apparent cordiality. My aunt and the captain were delighted to
see me, and I found that my two cousins, of whose appearance I had been
duly apprised, were very pretty children. I found that my mother had
two assistants in her business and everything appeared to be on a
grander scale, and more flourishing than ever.

The first two or three days were devoted to narratives, communications,
explanations, and admirations, as is usually the case after so long an
absence; after which we quietly settled down in the relative positions
of mother and son, and she assumed, or rather would have assumed, her
control over me; but this was not my wish; I had made up my mind that,
although a clever woman, I must in future control her, and I took the
first opportunity of a long _tete-a-tete_ to let her know that such was
my intention.

Speaking of Captain Delmar, I at once told her that I knew he was my
father, and that I had his own handwriting to prove it. She denied it
at first; but I told her that all denial was useless, that I had
possession of the letter he had written to her upon my supposed death,
and that it was no ghost, but I, who had frightened my grandmother.

This was my first blow, and a heavy one, to my poor mother; for what
woman can bear to be humiliated by her offspring being acquainted with
her indiscretion? I loved my mother, and would fain have spared her
this pang, had it not been that all my future plans were based upon this
one point, and it was necessary she should aid and abet me in them.

My poor mother was bowed to the earth when she found that it was in vain
to deny my parentage; she covered her face with her hands in deep shame
before her child, but I consoled, and care