"Forgiven!—you!" repeated Ellen, in utter astonishment, but rising instantly. "Aunt Emmeline, dear aunt Emmeline, pray, do not speak so; why did you not tell me your wish before? I would have conquered my own disinclination to enter the library, weeks ago; indeed, indeed, it only seemed associated with my own guilt and misery."
Mrs. Hamilton drew her arm fondly in hers, refusing for her the aid of either of the young men, who had all hastened toward her, and led her herself to the library, and to her usual place beside Emmeline. Many an eager but respectful look of affectionate admiration was directed toward her by the assembled household, the greater part of whom had not seen her since the night of Edward's confession; and the alteration in her appearance, the universal sympathy which her dangerous illness and its cause had called forth, even in the humblest and most ignorant—for it is the heart, not the mind, which is required for the comprehension of self-devotion—her very youth seeming to increase its magnitude, had inspired such a feeling of love, that could she have known it, would have prevented that painful sensation of shyness.
Many, many thoughts thronged her mind, as her uncle's impressive voice fell on her ear; thoughts which, though they prevented her following the words of the prayers, and caused the tears, spite of every effort, to stream through her slender fingers, yet turned into thankfulness and praise, ere the service ceased, that, fiery as the ordeal had been, she could still recognize a hand of love, and bless God, not only for the detection of her involuntary sin, but for every pang she had endured.
The next day was Sunday, bringing with it all sorts of quiet, sober pleasures of its own, only alloyed by the thought that it was the last day of Percy's and Herbert's visit. The following morning they started for Oxford, Mr. Hamilton and Edward intending to accompany them part of the way, and then to proceed to Ashburton, where the former had business, and then make a little tour through Plymouth home. The next day was so beautifully fine and genial, that Emmeline declared it would do Ellen the greatest possible good to go with her a few miles out of the park, to see a waterfall she had lately discovered, and which she had been longing for Ellen to see, as Caroline would not admire it as much as it deserved. Miss Harcourt accompanied them, and on their return, its beauties were described to Mrs. Hamilton in the most animating strain; Emmeline declaring the air was more deliciously fresh, the trees more green, the sky more brilliantly blue, than they had ever been before; and that the very sound of the water, as it dashed down a black rock, and threw up spray, which the rays of the sun rendered so beautifully iridescent, as to seem like a succession of rainbows, was a whole volume of poetry in itself.
"And what extraordinary vision do you think that silly cousin of mine chose to fancy she saw coming down the Ashburton road, mamma? Actually the apparitions of papa and Edward. She will persist in the fancy. Miss Harcourt and I could only see two men on horseback, at too great a distance for any identity to be recognized—but it must be their wraiths, if it be, for they had no idea of coming home to-day."
"I am sure I was not mistaken, Emmeline," said Ellen (whom her aunt now observed looked agitated and flushed); "and they were riding so fast, something very pressing must have recalled them."
"And you are frightening yourself at shadows, my dear! but indeed I think you must be mistaken, for your uncle told me, he should be particularly engaged to-day," said Mrs. Hamilton.
"She is not mistaken, though," exclaimed Caroline, who was standing at one of the windows; "for here they both are, true enough, and riding quite fast down the avenue. However, the mystery will soon be solved."
Mr. Hamilton and Edward entered almost immediately afterward, the latter evidently very much agitated, the former so tranquil and cheerful that the momentary anxiety of his wife was calmed directly. He laughed at their bewilderment, and said that an important letter had reached him at Ashburton, summoning him to Plymouth, and so he thought he would just see how all was going on at Oakwood first. This was not at all a satisfactory reason from Mr. Hamilton. Edward evidently tried to answer Ellen's inquiries quietly, but he could not, and exclaiming, "You tell her, my dear uncle! I can not," ran out of the room. Mr. Hamilton instantly changed his jesting manner, so far as quietly and affectionately to seat his niece beside him, and tell her, cautiously and kindly, the real cause of their unexpected return. Orders had been sent to the Sea Queen, to sail much sooner than was expected, and therefore he had deferred his business, and returned with Edward directly.
"It is a trial, my dear Ellen, a very hard one just now, under all circumstances; but I am sure you will bear it with fortitude, for Edward's sake. The only drawback to his happiness in being again permitted to follow his profession, is the thought of the trial, it will be to you."