"Not me alone, O compassionate and blessed Saviour! but the dear, the precious, the only one I leave behind. To thine exceeding love, to the care of a mighty God, the blessed influences of the Holy Spirit, I now commit her. 'Whom have I in heaven but thee, and there is naught on earth which I desire beside thee.'" CHAPTER XXVII. Edith came in, as usual, before she retired for the night, and expressed affectionate concern for my indisposition; but there was an air of constraint, which I could not help perceiving. My eyes fell before hers, with conscious guilt. For had I not robbed her of that first place in her brother's heart, which she had so long claimed as her inalienable right? I had one duty to perform, and I resolved to do it before I laid my head on the pillow. With the manuscript in my hand, I sought the chamber of Mrs. Linwood. She sat before a small table, her head resting thoughtfully on her hand, with an open Bible before her. She looked up at my entrance, with a countenance of gentle seriousness, and extended her hand affectionately. Walking hastily towards her, I knelt at her feet, and laying the manuscript in her lap, burst into tears. "Oh! Mrs. Linwood," I cried, "will your love and kindness survive the knowledge of all these pages will reveal? Will a mother's virtues cancel the record of a father's guilt? Can you cherish and protect me still?" She bent over me and took me in her arms, while tears trembled in her eyes. "I know all, my dear child," she said; "there is nothing new to be revealed. Your mother gave me, on her death-bed, a brief history of her life, and it only increased your claims on my maternal care. Do you think it possible, Gabriella, that I could be so unjust and unkind, as to visit the sins of a father on the head of an innocent and unoffending child? No; believe me, nothing but your own conduct could ever alienate my affections or confidence." "Teach me to deserve it, dear Mrs. Linwood,--teach me how to prove my love, my gratitude, and veneration." "By confiding in me as a mother, trusting me as a friend, and seeking me as a guide and counsellor in this most dangerous season of youth and temptation, you are very dear to me, Gabriella. Next to my own son and daughter, I love you, nor do I consider their happiness a more sacred deposit than yours." "Oh! Mrs. Linwood," I exclaimed, covering my burning face with my hands, and again bowing it on her lap--"Ask me anything,--and nothing shall be held back--I cannot--I dare not--perhaps I ought not--" "Tell me that my son loves you?" I started and trembled; but as soon as the words passed her lips I gathered courage to meet whatever she might say. "If it be indeed so," I answered, "should not the revelation come from him, rather than me?"