The mention of Lord Fitz-Ullin’s family as connected with the Oswalds, made a lively impression on Edmund’s mind. That the friendless, destitute boy, whom he had been planning to protect and assist with all the limited means he could command, should possess legitimate claims on his powerful and kind patron, and on his young friend, Oscar Ormond, opened new and flattering prospects for the son of poor Sir Archibald, of which Edmund was determined not to lose sight. The friendless, the destitute seemed to him as more peculiarly his brethren than the rest of mankind. Nor was this a parade of sentiment with Edmund, even to his own heart; it was rather an involuntary emotion, upon the impulse of which he frequently acted before he had considered what were his motives. His affectionate and gentle nature yearned for the tender family sympathies of which his peculiar circumstances deprived him; and he sometimes took a melancholy pleasure in thinking that he thus belonged to a large family, namely, the unfortunates. Henry entered the breakfast-room looking very pale. “There is no one missing now but poor Sir Archibald,” observed Lady Arandale. The butler came in with a supply of hot rolls. Her ladyship enquired if any one had been in Sir Archibald’s room this morning. The man answered that he believed Sir Archibald had left the castle, as he had gone out very early. “If he has gone off in this sudden manner,” observed Lord Arandale, “it is probable that a lucid interval has arrived; for at such times he always hastens to his miserable retreat in the island; avoiding most especially those old friends and associates whose society he seeks when his mind is in an unsettled state. I do not know that I have ever seen on his countenance that expression of utter woe, unmingled with cheating phantasies, which it wore last night, except on the approach of reason; before which it is feasible to suppose that all the airy visions of the madman flee away, reducing our poor friend to the unalleviated consciousness of his actual situation. Young men!” continued the Earl, looking round at his nephews, who were busily engaged in eating cold pie, “surely I need not, no one need preach against gambling in this neighbourhood while such a beacon light is placed on high to warn all off the rock on which poor Oswald became a wreck! Aye, a piteous wreck indeed!” he added, murmuring to himself, and moving his head slowly from side to side, as Mrs. Montgomery sometimes did, for it was a family symptom. Then, after a moment’s pause, addressing Edmund in particular, he said: “This will make some little alteration necessary in the arrangements we concerted last night. You have breakfasted, I believe, Captain Montgomery?” Edmund assented. “Will you come with me, then, to my study?” Edmund arose and accompanied his lordship. Most of the party quitted their seats about the same time; and Frances said to Julia, as they walked together towards a window: “It