"'And now, my dear child, farewell. These lines will not meet your eyes till your father's are closed. I know I have no need to exhort you to do justice to your brother, if ever you should find him; and if you should not, to clear his memory, after Mr. Hayley's death. Your mother's ample fortune will be sufficient provision for you, and the estates of the family will descend to you, without being specially mentioned in my will; but remember that you hold them in trust for him, if ever he should reappear. Should such be the case, I trust that the affection which existed between you and him, as boy and girl, may be a blessing to you both in more mature years. And now, that heaven may protect you, and send you a happier fate than mine, is the sincerest prayer of
"'Your father,
"'Milford.'"
Henry's voice faltered as he read the latter sentences of his father's letter to his sister, and there were tears in Lady Anne's bright eyes; but those tears did not run over till old Mr. Hargrave laid his hand upon hers, saying--
"Well and nobly, my dear child, have you fulfilled your excellent father's last behest, and justified his judgment both of head and heart."
"And I am a proud man," said Mr. Winkworth, looking at her through his spectacles, which he had been wiping more than once, for some reason or another; "for I shall one day call her child who has so brightly performed her duty to a dead father and a living brother."
"Hush, hush, hush!" exclaimed Lady Anne, starting up: "you will drive me away. Did you not promise, most faithless of Indians? You are as bad as the man in the fairy tale."
"And as ugly," replied Mr. Winkworth, laughing; "but I fear, dear lady, I shall never find a kind girl to restore me to my pristine form again--though, if there be a sorceress upon earth who could do it, she were Anne Mellent. Pray use your interest with her for me, my dear lord, for I would fain have youth and beauty back, as they appeared before they had been taken away by that fell enchanter, Time; and here are two people in the room--my old acquaintance Hargrave and my dear sister Lady Fleetwood--who can tell you that I was a very good-looking fellow nine-and-twenty years ago, when I was called Charles Marston."
"Charles Marston!" exclaimed Lady Fleetwood, almost with a scream. "You Charles Marston!"
"Yes, my dear Meg," replied Mr. Winkworth; "even your poor brother-in-law."