ath; and Mrs. Fitzgerald was so much pleased at the
noble conduct of the gentleman, as to express a desire to see him; but the
impressions of the moment appeared to have died away, a nothing more was
said by either lady on the subject, and it was apparently forgotten. Mrs.
Fitzgerald was found one morning, weeping over a letter she held in her
hand, and the Donna Lorenza was endeavoring to console her. The situation
of this latter lady was somewhat doubtful; she appeared neither wholly a
friend nor a menial. In the manners of the two there was a striking
difference; although the Donna was not vulgar, she was far from possessing
the polish of her more juvenile friend, and Mrs. Wilson considered her to
be in a station between that of a housekeeper and that of a companion.
After hoping that no unpleasant intelligence occasioned the distress they
witnessed, the ladies were delicately about to take their leave, when Mrs.
Fitzgerald entreated them to remain.

"Your kind attention to me, dear madam, and the goodness of Miss Moseley,
give you a claim to know more of the unfortunate being your sympathy has
so greatly assisted to attain her peace of mind. This letter is from the
gentleman of whom you have heard me speak, as once visiting me, and though
it has struck me with unusual force, it contains no more than I expected
to hear, perhaps no more than I deserve to hear."

"I hope your friend has not been unnecessarily harsh: severity is not the
best way, always, of effecting repentance, and I feel certain that you, my
young friend, can have been guilty of no offence that does not rather
require gentle than stern reproof," said Mrs. Wilson.

"I thank you, dear madam, for your indulgent opinion of me, but although I
have suffered much, I am willing to confess it is a merited punishment;
you are, however, mistaken as to the source of my present sorrow. Lord
Pendennyss is the cause of grief, I believe, to no one, much less to me."

"Lord Pendennyss!" exclaimed Emily, in surprise, unconsciously looking at
her aunt.

"Pendennyss!" reiterated Mrs. Wilson, with animation "and is he your
friend, too?"

"Yes, madam; to his lordship I owe
everything--honor--comfort--religion--and even life itself."

Mrs. Wilson's cheek glowed with an unusual color, at this discovery of
another act of benevolence and virtue, in a young nobleman whose character
she had so long admired, and whose person she had in vain wished to meet.

"You know the