“James Darrington!” exclaimed Ada, in a tone of the deepest emotion. “Yes, yes,” murmured she, “my heart spoke truly—from its depths I heard his name, even before—before—” she paused and timidly raised her eyes to her lover’s countenance. That smile! she had seen it in her dreams—those eyes, so tenderly riveted upon her! how often had their glance awakened in her soul vague recollections of something loved and forgotten. Her heart beat violently, and pressing her hands to her eyes, her over-wrought feelings found relief in tears. But they were tears of joy, and while they flow undisturbed, we must defend James Darrington from the serious charges preferred against him by Mrs. Ingleby. It will be remembered that at the time of Mr. Darrington’s death, he resided in Paris. Partly by the expenses entailed upon him by his position as American minister, partly by the failure of banks at home, he became so involved, that at his death, a mere pittance remained for the support of his widow and son. Mrs. Darrington decided upon an immediate return to America, but her plans were changed by the reception of a letter from a near relative, then residing in England. The letter was not simply one of condolence—Mr. Stanley offered a home to his impoverished niece, and before she had time to accept or refuse his proposal, it was followed by himself in person. The parties were mutually pleased. Mrs. Darrington was prepossessed in favor of her uncle, by his resemblance to her father, and he, without ties, seemed anxious to find an object for his tenderness in the person of his brother’s only child. Thenceforward Julia, and Julia’s son, became the first objects in his heart. To minister to the happiness of the mother, and to shower every advantage of education that wealth can confer upon the child, seemed the aims of his existence. James so richly repaid these benefits, that in time he became the idol of his uncle, and the old gentlemen often sighed when he remembered that his nephew was not a Stanley. After reaping, in the devotion of his niece and the respectful affection of his nephew, the rich reward of his generous conduct toward them, Mr. Stanley died, and, without condition of any kind, bequeathed his large fortune to Mrs. Darrington and her son. Attached to the will was a letter, in which he made it his last request that James should add to his own the name of Stanley. The old gentleman knew James too well to make it a stipulation; he was aware that his fortune would be rejected on such terms, and he gave it to his adopted son, bore he the name of Stanley or Darrington. But this request—couched in terms of so much tenderness—made in such an unassuming way, seemed binding to the grateful James; and what he might have refused to his uncle’s pride he granted to his affection. Moreover, Stanley was his mother’s name, and James had always loved it for her sake.