On reaching London after a delay thus imposed, I found Heartley on his dying bed; this trial did not accelerate my recovery. A fever succeeded to his last embrace. Alas, his virtues suited not the world he had escaped! Its cold and ungenial maxims could not find admission into a heart glowing with every noble affection. Trusting to vigorous health, and scorning the prudence which gives but to receive, he lived honourably and died poor, leaving his widow with a jointure of barely two hundred pounds per annum, for the support of herself and two children. This inestimable woman found in her difficulties and principles resources for ennobling her character. Her sorrows were reserved for her pillow; and with a calm and collected mind, she disposed of her effects, paid every outstanding debt; and then declared to her friends, her intention of quitting London, in order to give in retirement those habits to her children, which alone could render them contented and independent. Mr. Wilson's house was the asylum she chose; and in me she saw the guardian whom her husband had named for his son. My dear Mary had her share in these arrangements, and we left town, I having succeeded in my application, and seen my claims established as an invalid on half-pay. We reached this place: and I entered Wilson's friendly gate once more. Again did I fold in my agonizing embrace the image of death. Great and merciful Being! thou wilt not in rigour remember the frenzy of my despair, while, bending over my fainting sister, I called down for vengeance on her destroyer! For some days my soul sickened whilst I contemplated in her emaciated form, the triumph of cruelty and the ravages of sorrow. But she smiled me to resignation; and my heart received the blessings which Heaven had spared me. Our tranquillity met with no disturbance from the hall. I had been settled more than a month, when one morning, in passing the hall gate, I saw Miss Flint and Mr. Flamall standing in the road opposite to it, as though waiting for some one from the house. I passed them as an absolute stranger. Mr. Flamall called me by name, and added, "Miss Flint, Sir, wishes to speak to you." She advanced, and I stopped. "I should have sent my attorney to you, Sir," said she haughtily, "if I had not thought that you would in less than a month have found leisure to call at the hall."—"When I have any business at the hall, or interest in those who reside there, I shall find leisure to call," replied I, with ill-suppressed emotion. "I neither expected, nor desired your visit," answered she, "on my own account; but I beg to know your pleasure in regard to the books you left behind you, when you deserted it."—"Consult your lawyer," replied I; "if it be allowed that I have a right to more than a shilling, send them; I will pay the carriage, as I did the bookseller of whom they were purchased." I walked on, and soon saw that she was joined by Mr. Snughead, to whom she had recently given the living of Tarefield. This circumstance did not contribute to restore my equanimity. Poor Howard pressed on my memory and I returned home dejected.

My books made their appearance on the following day; and contributed to my success as a tutor. Malcolm, Maclairn, and Henry Heartley were my pupils; and neither of them have disgraced me. I pass over all the fluctuations of a malady so fallacious as my sister's. Her approach to the grave was so gradual, that at times she laughed at our precautions, and beguiled us of our fears; but when on the confines of it, she was untroubled, and spoke of her dissolution with serenity.

One day she told me that she had been writing to Lucretia, and wished me to read the letter before she sealed it. I waved my hand, and turned away my weeping eyes. "Well, I will not urge it," said she putting in a wafer; "but I cannot die in peace, without assuring her, that I sincerely forgive her. I am hastening to an abode, into which no animosities can enter. I have none to impede my entrance; and the time may come, when poor Lucretia will find a consolation in this assurance. I have even recommended my poor child to her regard, as a proof that I have pardoned her unkindness to me. The only sentiment I now can feel for an offending fellow-creature," added she, wiping away a starting tear, "is compassion; and I leave you to judge, Percival, of that which now actuates my breast for a sister, the child of the same parents, of a mother without equal in piety and humanity; of a father!"—her voice sunk—"whom I grieved, perhaps more! Do not think I have forgotten my Howard's noble spirit," continued she; "I have not meanly sued for his child's bread. I have not an anxious care for her as far as relates to her maintenance. I have resigned her to Providence, and I leave her to you. But were I wholly to omit her in a letter of this kind, it would, I think, have shewn a spirit of pride, and of indifference to my child. Her aunt is rich in this world's wealth, she is poor. Lucretia may live to recollect her duty; and in this destitute girl find an object who, without any claims of affinity, will be worthy of her favours. Be not alarmed, my dear Percival," continued she, seeing my emotions, "indeed I have not said too much! You ought to consider that you may be removed, and I have pointed out to Lucretia, a positive duty; I have not solicited her charity."

Mrs. Wilson took charge of this letter. Some time after she returned, her countenance glowing with resentment and the speed she had made. "Thank God!" cried she, showing the letter, "there it is again! For once I have my mind, and what is more, have spoken my mind!" Mrs. Howard took the letter with a trembling hand. "Why surely, my dear lamb!" continued the affectionate woman, "you are not grieved that your enemy will thus set her face against you! Her time is not yet come for your tender mercies, for she is at variance with her Maker. I told her so, word for word, and more than that; for I said Miss Mary would never want her notice. She will remember me, I'll be sworn!"—My sister was touched, though troubled, by this well-meant zeal, whilst I only felt its justice. Two or three days passed, when the now rapidly declining object of my tenderness gave me a packet directed to Miss Flint. "Promise me," said she, "to deliver this into Lucretia's hand; it is become indispensibly necessary that she should know I neither meant to wound her feelings, nor to exasperate her temper. I conjure you to promise me."—"Were she guarded by a legion of devils," exclaimed I, yielding to the anguish which tore my soul, "she shall receive it from my hand into her own! She shall feel the misery which she has caused!"—"Remember," replied she, "that the probe which is not skillfully used must inflame. When you do meet her, remember your mother!"

Her death soon followed. I was frantic in my grief. My passions would not be opposed, and these brought the murderer of my comfort before me in a sister's form. I swore solemnly that she should witness the ruin she had effected; and that I would drag her to Mary's bed of death. These violent agitations subsided to a more collected and determined purpose of thought. I was incapable of receiving Greenwood's arguments, and I was soothed by being left to my design. Greenwood performed the last sad office. Preparations were made for receiving the remains of Mrs. Howard, for the purpose of interment at his church, where her husband was buried; but the hearse and coach stopped short of the hall. Following the coffin I proceeded on foot to the great gate of the house; and, bidding the bearers stop, I rang the bell with fury. A man-servant answered my hasty summons; and, appalled by the object in view, he stood motionless before me. "Tell Miss Flint," said I, "that I must see her; that I am the bearer of a commission from the dead, and that I will be numbered with the dead before I leave this spot if she refuses to admit me." Some little time elapsed: I was admitted; and the trembling heiress, surrounded by her maid-servants, and protected by Mr. Flamall, with terror met my slow approach. Flamall broke the silence. He asked me what I had to say to Miss Flint. I waved my hand. "Be wise!" said I, "this is no time for you."—He took the advice and shrunk from my eye. I presented the packet to Lucretia; she attempted to retreat on seeing the address. "You must take it," said I calmly: "nay, more, Lucretia, you must read the contents in my presence: such are my orders; and before my Maker, have I sworn to fulfil them."—"Give it to some one," cried she, covering her face; "I promise to read it when I am able."—"That will not suffice," replied I, sitting down and bursting into agonizing tears; "I have no apprehensions: a sister's dying blessing cannot injure, a sister's forgiveness cannot wound you." She took the packet, broke the seals, and, hastily glancing her eyes over the two letters it contained, asked me, with rising anger, "whether I was satisfied with having insulted her under her own roof?"—"Call it as you please," answered I, sternly; "my business was not to compliment. I leave you with a remedy you need. Profit from it, lest a worse thing befal you than my insults." I instantly left her; and on my sainted Mary's grave wept my feelings down to composure, Time, and my remaining comforts, healed, to a certain degree, these breaches in my peace. I was at length summoned to town with young Heartley, by his friend, to prepare for his voyage to Calcutta. A month was employed in my cares for Heartley's son, and my gratitude had its turn. I saw him embark with all the sanguine hopes of youth, qualified by my care, for an honourable destination; and gifted by nature with every virtuous and noble trait of his father's character. He was under the protection of a man who loved that father, and I contentedly went back to my lodgings in order to prepare for my return home. My demands on my banker had been extended beyond their usual course; and I had to settle my account with his books before my departure. I called at his house, it had stopped payment; and in a week or ten days detention in town I learned, that I might expect for the remaining sum of five hundred pounds in his hands, a dividend of "five shillings in the pound."

Mrs. Heartley was informed of this event by her London correspondents. My philosophy did not console her; but it was shared by the Wilsons, who observed "that the captain was quite in the right not to fret about it, for that his comforts were in no danger of a bankruptcy."—From this time my influence with them rose to a marked respect and deference, and we had no difference in opinion but on quarter days. About a year and a half since I received a letter from Miss Flint, by the hand of our daily guest Malcolm Maclairn. "She wished to see me, having something to propose which she trusted would heal the differences between us." Mrs. Heartley's and Greenwood's arguments prevailed. I went, and, after some prelude, she told me, that she had been informed of the banker's insolvency, and was willing to relieve me from the burden of supporting Mary. I coldly replied that I had never found her such. "Be it so," answered she, "I mean not in this interview to offend you. I will take another mode of expression. Consider whether a girl may not be as safe under an aunt's protection as under an uncle's, and that you may die and leave her destitute. I have lost sight of my brother Philip; I think she would amuse me; and if you like the proposal send her, I will instruct her to be useful at least."—"Ah, Lucretia!" cried I, "you may at this hour render her so! Let this precious girl be the cement of our renewed ties of nature!"—"I must first be assured that she has not been taught to hate me," answered she, colouring: "neither my intentions nor your wishes can be effected, if this be the case. Let her come; I wish to know her, and she must remain a stranger to me whilst she is at Wilson's; but we will at present drop the subject: in a week I shall expect an answer."

She then detailed to me the miserable state of Sir Murdock Maclairn, pitying his wife, who lived nearly altogether in his apartment. I will pass over the struggles which ensued. Mary eagerly solicited my consent. I saw her motive, and clasped her to my bosom. Mrs. Heartley and Greenwood seconded her. "It was my duty to resign her."—"It was incumbent on all to submit to necessity."—"It was Mary's future support to have an interest with her aunt, and she could not fail in humanizing her."—"By a refusal I was hardening her heart, and perpetuating enmity."—You will distinguish the different speakers. Greenwood's argument prevailed; for they breathed peace and love, and reformation and pardon. I submitted, Miss Cowley, and conducted my harmless, sweet child, to her unfeeling aunt; and I became a weekly visitor at the hall. Surprised by her not coming to see her deserted friends, I questioned her on the cause of her omission. "It will be only for a time," replied she, in a caressing tone, "we must have patience. My aunt fancies I shall not love her if I visit my dear friends. It is unlucky that she should so much dislike them; but I write to my Alice, and that is a comfort. When my aunt perceives that I am obedient to her commands in this no little trial of my patience, she will be more indulgent; in the mean time I am perfectly contented with my situation, and you shall see that she will love me." Mrs. Heartley approved of Mary's conduct, adding "Miss Howard must subdue that inflexible woman, or she is lost to all hope."

You have seen the result! You have witnessed her aunt's obduracy! I accept, with gratitude, your offered protection. Heaven has given you the means, and a mind worthy of the donor! The time may not be far remote when this destitute young woman will present herself before you, weak in her youth, in her beauty, and in her purity. Shelter her, Madam; the work will be honourable, and the recompence beyond what my most fervent prayers of gratitude can reach.

I remain respectfully,
Your obliged humble servant,
Percival Flint.