ion of his step-father roused him at length, but he scarce found
power or voice to utter, as he thrust the letter into the knight's hand,
'Ah! see what has she not suffered for me! me, whom you would have had
believed her faithless!'

He then grasped his friend's arm, and with him disappeared into the
house, leaving Sir Marmaduke holding the letter in a state of the utmost
bewilderment, and calling by turns on his wife and daughter to read and
explain it to him.

And as Lucy read the letter, with her mother could not yet prevail on
herself to touch, she felt at each word more grateful to the good Aunt
Cecily, whose influence had taught her always to view Berenger as a
brother, and not to condemn unheard the poor young wife. If she had not
been thus guarded, what distress might not this day of joy to Berenger
have brought to Lucy! Indeed, Lady Thistlewood was vexed enough as
it was, and ready to carry her incredulity to the most inconsistent
lengths. 'It was all a trick for getting the poor boy back, that
they might make an end of him altogether. Tell her they thought him
dead.--'Tilley-valley! It was a mere attempt on her own good-nature, to
get a little French impostor on her hands. Let Sir Duke look well to
it, and take care that her poor boy was not decoyed among them. The
Frenchman might be cutting his throat at that moment! Where was he? Had
Sir Duke been so lost as to let them out of sight together? No one had
either pity or prudence now that her poor father was gone;' and she
began to weep.

'No great fear on that score, dame,' laughed the knight. 'Did you not
hear the lad shouting for 'Phil, Phil!' almost in a voice like old
times? It does one good to hear it.'

Just at twilight, Berenger came down the steps, conducting a graceful
gentleman in black, to whom Lady Thistlewood's instinct impelled her
to make a low courtesy, before Berenger had said, 'Madam, allow me to
present to you my friend, the Abbe de Mericour.'

'Is it the same?' whispered Bessie to Annora. 'Surely he is translated!'

'Only into Philip's old mourning suit. I know it by the stain on the
knee.

'Then it is translated too. Never did it look so well on Philip! See,
our mother is quite gracious to him; she speaks to him as though he were
some noble visitor to my Lord.'

Therewith Sir Marmaduke came forward, shook Mericour with all his might
by the hand, shouted to him his hearty thanks for the good he had done
his poor lad and assured h