Fitz-Ullin, without evincing any desire to enjoy his new found rank and fortune, joined his ship immediately. He seemed to seek escape, from the mental exertion of considering whither he should fly, by thus subjecting himself to the necessity of going wherever, and doing whatever, the service should require of him. Among the particulars, respecting the discovery of our hero’s birth, which the late circumstances brought to light, it appeared that his nurse, who, when she wrote to Mrs. Montgomery, thought herself dying, not only recovered and repented of her repentance, but married again, a man who would have made a market of the secret, had Ormond been without principle. This man was among the persons, who made the offers already mentioned. He undertook that his wife, the nurse, should not be forthcoming; or, that were she obliged to come forward, she should, on cross-examination, purposely so contradict herself, as to invalidate her evidence. It was, therefore, of his own free will, that poor Ormond had resigned at once, the rank, the wealth, and the home, in which he had from infancy lived, believing them his birth-right. His twin sister, who was in courtesy called Miss Ormond, had received a very superior education, to fit her for the situation of governess. It is a remarkable circumstance, that, in point of fact, the actual fund which had supplied an education, so fatal in its consequences, was the wages of sin; the very remuneration bestowed by the munificent Earl, on the dependant he had seduced. Thus, as by a remarkable retribution, this command of money in the hands of the guilty mother, became the means of blighting the young hearts of both her ill-fated children, and bringing her own grey hairs with shame and sorrow to the grave. The poor young woman had been settled for some years, in the capacity of governess, in a highly respectable private family, at the time that the marriage between Ormond and her was attempted; which was one of the reasons why the wretched mother was not aware how far matters had gone, till almost the last moment. CHAPTER XVIII. “The Monarch takes his dazzling seat. … Nobles Flock, to offer willing homage.” The presentation of the sisters took place, and threw open, at once, the floodgates of dissipation: while the London season, at its height, offered all its fascinating varieties. But, to Julia, every day appeared the same. The only impression she seemed capable of receiving, from the ever changing scenes in which she was engaged, was, from all, a sense of weariness. The newspapers alone, had power to interest her; except, that she derived a melancholy pleasure from listening to the praises, by Lady Oswald, of Edmund’s generous kindness to herself, and to her son Arthur, now our hero’s cousin.