‘Montgomery.’
“Astonishment and concern took possession of Theodore’s mind. He was surprised that Miss Norbury should so readily consent to marry Montgomery, and equally grieved that she no longer regarded him with a preference. He therefore returned an answer, in which his agitation and uneasiness could not be concealed under his feigned congratulations; and Montgomery was not long before he learned from Miss Norbury herself the particulars of his friend’s attachment to that lady. She had indeed never ceased to regard him; but the care her father had taken to prevent her hearing from or seeing him, was too effectual for her to obtain any knowledge of his sentiments, and she attributed to indifference what was in fact the result of necessity. Gratitude, and the commands of a father, now induced her to promise her hand to Lord Montgomery; but she candidly acknowledged to him every particular.
“Montgomery, though sensibly affected by her candour, and the knowledge that he was not the object of her regard, yet concealed his chagrin, and strove to gain her favour by the most delicate attentions.
“When Theodore arrived, he hastened, with ardent eagerness, to embrace him, and experienced the most acute anguish at perceiving the altered looks and cold manners of his once-ardent friend.
‘My dear Mr. Fitzallan,’ said he, affecting ignorance, ‘how have I been so unfortunate as to offend you? I have been impatiently expecting your return to crown my happiness; yet you meet me with pallid cheeks and averted eyes—what can this mean?’
‘Lord Montgomery,’ said Theodore, seriously, ‘press me not on this subject; you have been innocently the cause of some unhappiness to me; but I bear you no enmity; and though I cannot witness your felicity, I will never cease to pray for it.’
‘My dear, dear friend,’ cried Montgomery, throwing himself into the arms of Theodore, ‘I know all; Charlotte has told me every thing, and I have only secured her to myself, that I might have the power of presenting her to you, as a proof that gratitude has never slept in my heart. The settlements are all drawn up; there only remains to insert your name instead of mine.’
‘Generous, too-generous Montgomery!’ exclaimed Theodore, ‘I have not deserved this goodness.’
‘Much more than ever I can have power to acknowledge,’ returned Montgomery; ‘you raised me from the dust to your bosom. I only have restored to you what was by right your own.’
“Theodore was overjoyed, and embraced his friend with grateful tears; and in the sweet delight of doing good to others, Montgomery established his own happiness. He gave the fair bride away; and in the course of a few years stood godfather to Charlotte, Caroline, and Henry, who now listen with such earnestness to my tale, and who will, I hope, be impressed by it with the amiable sentiment, that virtue, independent of personal beauty, should alone command our esteem, as the most deformed and hideous to behold may possess a heart more valuable than that enclosed within the fairest outside.”