a way as now, the depth of this
pure devotion (which was, for the first time, revealed to him quite) smote
upon him, and filled his heart with thanksgiving. Gracious God, who was
he, weak and friendless creature, that such a love should be poured out
upon him? Not in vain, not in vain has he lived--hard and thankless should
he be to think so--that has such a treasure given him. What is ambition
compared to that? but selfish vanity. To be rich, to be famous? What do
these profit a year hence, when other names sound louder than yours, when
you lie hidden away under the ground, along with the idle titles engraven
on your coffin? But only true love lives after you--follows your memory
with secret blessing--or precedes you, and intercedes for you. _Non omnis
moriar_--if dying, I yet live in a tender heart or two; nor am lost and
hopeless living, if a sainted departed soul still loves and prays for me.

"If--if 'tis so, dear lady," Mr. Esmond said, "why should I ever leave you?
If God hath given me this great boon--and near or far from me, as I know
now--the heart of my dearest mistress follows me; let me have that blessing
near me, nor ever part with it till life separate us. Come away--leave this
Europe, this place which has so many sad recollections for you. Begin a
new life in a new world. My good lord often talked of visiting that land
in Virginia which King Charles gave us--gave his ancestor. Frank will give
us that. No man there will ask if there is a blot on my name, or inquire
in the woods what my title is."

"And my children--and my duty--and my good father?--Henry," she broke out.
"He has none but me now; for soon my sister will leave him, and the old
man will be alone. He has conformed since the new queen's reign; and here
in Winchester, where they love him, they have found a church for him. When
the children leave me, I will stay with him. I cannot follow them into the
great world, where their way lies--it scares me. They will come and visit
me; and you will, sometimes, Henry--yes, sometimes, as now, in the holy
Advent season, when I have seen and blessed you once more."

"I would leave all to follow you," said Mr. Esmond; "and can you not be as
generous for me, dear lady?"

"Hush, boy!" she said, and it was with a mother's sweet plaintive tone and
look that she spoke. "The world is beginning for you. For me, I have been
so weak and sinful that I must leave it, and pray out an expiation, dear
Henry. Had we hou