him, and
cried,

"Denbigh, I see--I feel--there is some unaccountable mistake--we are--"

"Brothers!" said the earl, emphatically. "Sir Edward--dear Lady Moseley, I
throw myself on your mercy. I am an impostor: when your hospitality
received me into your house, it is true you admitted George Denbigh, but
he is better known as the Earl of Pendennyss."

"The Earl of Pendennyss!" exclaimed Lady Moseley, in a glow of delight, as
she saw at once through some juvenile folly a deception which promised
both happiness and rank to one of her children. "Is it possible, my dear
Charlotte, that this is your unknown friend?"

"The very same, Anne," replied the smiling widow, "and guilty of a folly
that, at all events, removes the distance between us a little, by showing
that he is subject to the failings of mortality. But the masquerade is
ended, and I hope you and Edward will not only treat him as an earl, but
receive him as a son."

"Most willingly--most willingly," cried the baronet, with great energy;
"be he prince, peer, or beggar, he is the preserver of my child, and as
such he is always welcome."

The door now slowly opened, and the venerable bachelor appeared on its
threshold.

Pendennyss, who had never forgotten the good will manifested to him by
Mr. Benfield, met him with a look of pleasure, as he expressed his
happiness at seeing him again in London.

"I never have forgotten your goodness in sending honest Peter such a
distance from home, on the object of his visit. I now regret that a
feeling of shame occasioned my answering your kindness so laconically:"
turning to Mrs. Wilson, he added, "for a time I knew not how to write a
letter even, being afraid to sign my proper appellation, and ashamed to
use my adopted."

"Mr. Denbigh, I am happy to see you. I did send Peter, it is true, to
London, on a message to you--but it is all over now," the old man
sighed--"Peter, however, escaped the snares of this wicked place; and if
you are happy, I am content. I remember when the Earl of--"

"Pendennyss!" exclaimed the other, "imposed on the hospitality of a worthy
man, under an assumed appellation, in order to pry into the character of a
lovely female, who was only too good for him, and who now is willing to
forget his follies, and make him not only the happiest of men, but the
nephew of Mr. Benfield."

During this speech, the countenance of Mr. Benfield had manifested evident
emotion: he looked from one to another, un