CHAPTER LXXXV.

The main interest of my adventures--if, indeed, I may flatter myself
that they ever contained any--is now over; the mystery is explained, the
innocent acquitted, and the guilty condemned. Moreover, all obstacles
between the marriage of the unworthy hero, with the peerless heroine,
being removed, it would be but an idle prolixity to linger over the
preliminary details of an orthodox and customary courtship. Nor is it
for me to dilate upon the exaggerated expressions of gratitude, in
which the affectionate heart of Glanville found vent for my fortunate
exertions on his behalf. He was not willing that any praise to which
I might be entitled for them, should be lost. He narrated to Lady
Glanville and Ellen my adventures with the comrades of the worthy Job;
from the lips of the mother, and the eyes of the dear sister, came my
sweetest addition to the good fortune which had made me the instrument
of Glanville's safety, and acquittal. I was not condemned to a long
protraction of that time, which, if it be justly termed the happiest of
our lives, we, (viz. all true lovers) through that perversity common to
human nature, most ardently wish to terminate.

On that day month which saw Glanville's release, my bridals were
appointed. Reginald was even more eager than myself in pressing for an
early day: firmly persuaded that his end was rapidly approaching, his
most prevailing desire was to witness our union. This wish, and the
interest he took in our happiness, gave him an energy and animation
which impressed us with the deepest hopes for his ultimate recovery;
and the fatal disease to which he was a prey, nursed the fondness of
our hearts by the bloom of cheek, and brightness of eye, with which it
veiled its desolating and gathering progress.

From the eventful day on which I had seen Lady Roseville, in--Street,
we had not met. She had shut herself up in her splendid home, and the
newspapers teemed with regret, at the reported illness and certain
seclusion of one, whose fetes and gaieties had furnished them with their
brightest pages. The only one admitted to her was Ellen. To her, she
had for some time made no secret of her attachment--and of her the daily
news of Sir Reginald's health was ascertained. Several times, when at
a late hour, I left Glanville's apartments, I passed the figure of
a woman, closely muffled, and apparently watching before his
windows--which, owing to the advance of summer, were n