which
her young prodigal had been running the thoughtless career of which he
himself was weary, and which had occasioned the fond lady such anguish.
Those doubts which perplex many a thinking man, and, when formed and
uttered, give many a fond and faithful woman pain so exquisite, had most
fortunately never crossed Kew's mind. His early impressions were such
as his mother had left them, and he came back to her, as she would
have him, as a little child; owning his faults with a hearty humble
repentance, and with a thousand simple confessions, lamenting the errors
of his past days. We have seen him tired and ashamed of the pleasures
which he was pursuing, of the companions who surrounded him, of the
brawls and dissipations which amused him no more; in those hours of
danger and doubt, when he had lain, with death perhaps before him,
making up his account of the vain life which probably he would be called
upon to surrender, no wonder this simple, kindly, modest, and courageous
soul thought seriously of the past and of the future; and prayed, and
resolved, if a future were awarded to him, it should make amends for the
days gone by; and surely as the mother and son read together the beloved
assurance of the divine forgiveness, and of that joy which angels feel
in heaven for a sinner repentant, we may fancy in the happy mother's
breast a feeling somewhat akin to that angelic felicity, a gratitude
and joy of all others the loftiest, the purest, the keenest. Lady Walham
might shrink with terror at the Frenchman's name, but her son could
forgive him, with all his heart, and kiss his mother's hand, and thank
him as the best friend of his life.

During all the days of his illness, Kew had never once mentioned Ethel's
name, and once or twice as his recovery progressed, when with doubt and
tremor his mother alluded to it, he turned from the subject as one
that was disagreeable and painful. Had she thought seriously on certain
things? Lady Walham asked. Kew thought not, "but those who are bred up
as you would have them, mother, are often none the better," the humble
young fellow said. "I believe she is a very good girl. She is very
clever, she is exceedingly handsome, she is very good to her parents and
her brothers and sisters; but--" he did not finish the sentence. Perhaps
he thought, as he told Ethel afterwards, that she would have agreed with
Lady Walham even worse than with her imperious old grandmother.

Lady Walham then fell