ed her hands
to her face: and cried, cried as if her little heart would break. Ah
me! what a story was there! what an outburst of pent-up feeling! what a
passion of pain! The ring had fallen to the ground; the little boy crept
towards it, and picked it up, and came towards his mother, fixing on her
his large wondering eyes. "Mamma crying. Mamma's ring!" he said, holding
up the circle of gold. With more feeling than I had ever seen her
exhibit, she clasped the boy in her wasted arms. Great Heaven! what
passion, jealousy, grief, despair, were tearing and trying all these
hearts, that but for fate might have been happy?

Clive went round, and with the utmost sweetness and tenderness hanging
round his child and wife, soothed her with words of consolation, that
in truth I scarce heard, being ashamed almost of being present at this
sudden scene. No one, however, took notice of the witnesses; and even
Mrs. Mackenzie's voice was silent for the moment. I dare say Clive's
words were incoherent; but women have more presence of mind; and now
Ethel, with a noble grace which I cannot attempt to describe, going
up to Rosa, seated herself by her, spoke of her long grief at the
differences between her dearest uncle and herself; of her early days,
when he had been as a father to her; of her wish, her hope that Rosa
should love her as a sister; and of her belief that better days and
happiness were in store for them all. And she spoke to the mother about
her boy so beautiful and intelligent, and told her how she had brought
up her brother's children, and hoped that this one too would call her
Aunt Ethel. She would not stay now, might she come again? Would Rosa
come to her with her little boy? Would he kiss her? He did so with a
very good grace; but when Ethel at parting embraced the child's mother,
Rosa's face wore a smile ghastly to look at, and the lips that touched
Ethel's cheeks, were quite white.

"I shall come and see you again to-morrow, uncle, may I not? I saw your
room to-day, sir, and your housekeeper; such a nice old lady, and your
black gown. And you shall put it on to-morrow, and walk with me, and
show me the beautiful old buildings of that old hospital. And I shall
come and make tea for you, the housekeeper says I may. Will you come
down with me to my carriage? No, Mr. Pendennis must come;" and she
quitted the room, beckoning me after her. "You will speak to Clive now,
won't you?" she said, "and come to me this evening, and