uently changed, and once or twice the tears streamed from his eyes.
When it was finished, he exclaimed,

"My brother has sent his child to me, and I will be a parent to him." He
was rushing towards the door, when Lady Clementina stopped him.

"Is it proper, do you think, Mr. Dean, that all the servants in the house
should be witnesses to your meeting with your brother and your nephew in
the state in which they must be at present? Send for them into a private
apartment."

"My brother!" cried the dean; "oh! that it _were_ my brother! The man is
merely a person from the ship, who has conducted his child hither."

The bell was rung, money was sent to the man, and orders given that the
boy should be shown up immediately.

While young Henry was walking up the stairs, the dean's wife was weighing
in her mind in what manner it would most redound to her honour to receive
him; for her vanity taught her to believe that the whole inquisitive
world pried into her conduct, even upon every family occurrence.

Young William was wondering to himself what kind of an unpolished monster
his beggarly cousin would appear; and was contemplating how much the poor
youth would be surprised, and awed by his superiority.

The dean felt no other sensation than an impatient desire of beholding
the child.

The door opened--and the son of his brother Henry, of his benefactor,
entered.

The habit he had on when he left his father, having been of slight
texture, was worn out by the length of the voyage, and he was in the
dress of a sailor-boy. Though about the same age with his cousin, he was
something taller: and though a strong family resemblance appeared between
the two youths, he was handsomer than William; and from a simplicity
spread over his countenance, a quick impatience in his eye--which denoted
anxious curiosity, and childish surprise at every new object which
presented itself--he appeared younger than his well-informed and well-
bred cousin.

He walked into the room, not with a dictated obeisance, but with a
hurrying step, a half pleased, yet a half frightened look, an
instantaneous survey of every person present; not as demanding "what they
thought of him," but expressing almost as plainly as in direct words,
"what he thought of them." For all alarm in respect to his safety and
reception seemed now wholly forgotten, in the curiosity which the sudden
sight of strangers such as he had never seen in his life before, excited:
a