every selfish retrospect, cast off the memory of past wrongs, and he stepped forward to offer the aid of his best services to the widow and the orphan, without, however, I believe, even for a moment, entertaining the remotest idea of renewing his suit. His lot had been cast; he had retired from what is called the world, and though so far from becoming a misanthrope that all his fine qualities appeared to expand when he obtained the means of making others happy; yet he never seemed to calculate upon any change in his own situation. Though delicacy and feeling prevented him from ever uttering a harsh sentiment, his friends were of opinion that he had arrived at a full conviction of having misplaced his affections in early life; and that conviction once attained, he never sought to hazard a new experiment. But the care of young Stanhope became a favourite object, and no assistance which the most efficient friendship could bestow was withheld from the boy's mother. Lisfarne was part of the property which devolved to this invaluable neighbour of ours by his brother's bequest; and the retired beauty of the scenery determined him to make this his asylum. His next object was to induce the beloved companions of youth, who had shared the gladness of his brightest, and dispelled the clouds of his darkest days, to come and live in his immediate vicinity. He purchased Glenalta for my father, and by his good taste and activity, transformed its rude wilds into the little paradise which you see. Here resided the happiest family which, I believe, ever existed; but I cannot talk of home, I must proceed with the story which I promised you:--Mr. Otway received a letter from a Solicitor in London, to say that the interests of his young ward (not that he was _legally_ so) required his immediate attendance in town. It was to him a most disagreeable undertaking. A recluse through long habit, and devoted to the society of Glenalta; active in the discharge of such multiplied duties at Lisfarne, as could ill spare his vigilant eye and beneficent heart, it was great pain to set out upon a journey without understanding its object, and plunge anew into scenes which he had abjured in idea for ever. But dear Phil. only hesitates till he has satisfied himself concerning what is right to be done, and there is no farther pause--he proceeds to execution. To London he went, and never shall I forget how much we longed for his return; and what blazing fires of heath _telegraphed_ his approach upon our neighbouring hills. On reaching town, he only waited to refresh himself before he set forward to the Solicitor's, from whom his summons had issued, and the mystery was soon unravelled. Mrs. Stanhope had married a young fortune-hunter, and was endeavouring to prevail upon her son, then a child of fourteen, to make a settlement on his pennyless stepfather. Relying on the influence of her former attractions, she had prepared a _scene_, and desiring