Mrs. Raby was welcomed by her children--two elegant girls of fifteen and sixteen, and a spirited boy of twelve. They adored their mother, and saw in their new cousin an occasion for rejoicing. Their sparkling looks and gay voices dispelled the last remnant of melancholy from the venerable mansion. Old Oswi Raby himself--too much sunk in dotage to understand what was going on--yet smiled and looked glad on the merry faces about him. He could not exactly make out who Elizabeth was--he was sure that it was a relation, and he treated her with an obsequious respect, which, considering his former impertinent tone, was exceedingly amusing. What was wanting to complete the universal happiness? Elizabeth's spirits rose to unwonted gayety in the society of her young relations--and her cousin Edwin in particular found her the most delightful companion in the world--for she was as fearless on horseback as himself, and was unwearied in amusing him by accounts of the foreign countries she had seen--and adventures, ridiculous or fearful, that she had encountered. In Mrs. Raby she found a beloved friend for serious hours; and Falkner's recovered health and spirits were a source of exhaustless congratulation. Yet where was Gerard Neville? Where the looks of love and rapturous sense of sympathy, before which all the other joys of life fade into dimness? Love causes us to get more rid of our haunting identity, and to give ourselves more entirely away than any other emotion; it is the most complete, the most without veil or shadow to mar its beauty. Every other human passion occupies but a distinct portion of our being. This assimilates with all, and turns the whole into bliss or misery. Elizabeth did not fear that Gerard would forget her. He had remembered through the dark hours gone by--and now his shadow walked with her beneath the avenues of Belleforest, and the recollection of his love impregnated the balmy airs of spring with a sweetness unfelt before. Elizabeth had now leisure to love--and many an hour she spent in solitary yet blissful dreams--almost wondering that such happiness was to be found on earth. What a change--what a contrast between the deathgirt prison of Carlisle and the love-adorned glades of her ancestral park! Not long ago the sky appeared to bend over one universe of tears and wo--and now, in the midst, a piece of heaven had dropped down upon earth, and she had entered the enchanted ground.