Lord Arlingford and Mr. Benson both attended, and were much affected at the ceremony, particularly the latter. “‘Late in the evening, I was,’ continued my narrator—‘roused from no agreeable reverie, by being told that Lord Arlingford’s carriage was driving through the village towards the church, and that one of the servants had come to beg that the door of it might be opened without delay; I immediately hurried thither. It was a bright moonlight night, and I saw Mr. and Mrs. Benson, who had already left the carriage, help out of it an almost lifeless figure; they supported her along—for, as you may guess it was poor Lady Fitzhenry. It seems, that nothing could divert her from the idea of visiting the vault before it was again closed, and at last the desire became so strong, that they thought it best to comply with her wishes. Her hysteric screams, when she threw herself on the coffin, still ring in my ears; and it was with difficulty they tore her away from it. Twice, as if agony of mind had given her more than usual strength, of body, she broke from them. I really feared for her reason, under the influence of such wild despair, and at length, by force, we carried her back to the carriage. By Mrs. Benson’s desire, I accompanied them to the house: she wished to try the effects of my prayers and exhortations on the poor sufferer. When she was laid on her couch, and had been given some composing medicine, I went to her. It seemed as if all was then over with her in this world. Not a tear fell from her fixed eyes. ‘He is gone—quite gone—I shall never see him again—never—never,’ she repeated, apparently quite unconscious of her words, and with a horrible composure of voice, although there was wildness in her looks; for she appeared as if gazing on some invisible form. I knelt by her, I read, I said all that I thought was most likely to rouse her from her stupor of grief, and move her feelings; and at last, after one or two convulsive heavings of her bosom, tears came to her relief. She fell sobbing into her mother’s arms; and I left that excellent mother to give her all the comfort she was then capable of receiving, that of sympathy and affection.’ “The kind-hearted old man here stopped, much overcome with his recollections.