"My brother's recall from Edinburgh was, in the course of events, the next occurrence of importance to me. This summons was in consequence of Mr. Oliver Flint's earnest wish to see his young brother. Death had bereaved him of his two last surviving children, boys, nearly of Philip's age; and to this invitation to my brother, were added promises of receiving him as his heir. Mr. Flamall's opinion had weight with my mother, for it included his resolution of going with his nephew to Jamaica, the better to understand, and to secure to him the advantages held out. Miss Flint calculated her brother Oliver's age and fortune, and recalled to her memory the extensive and beautiful plantation on which she had first seen the light. Avarice combated with fondness; and she yielded, trusting to Mr. Flamall's care, and the declining state of health of this poor afflicted father, for her idol's return to England. Philip arrived at Tarefield from the university; I had not seen him for a year and a half; and I was struck by the improvement of his person. 'He was always handsome,' added Malcolm smiling; 'but the Adonis had given place to more masculine comeliness; and his deportment was become serious, and rather reserved. We had mutually attained to those years which precluded rudeness, and I was treated as a gentleman, and I hope I shewed him that I was one; yet I saw Philip's advances to more familiarity like 'a stubborn dog,' for my heart receded from his _civilities_. "One morning I met my brother in the avenue, in my way from the Abbey. He appeared to be lost in thought, and I fancied he was weeping. On perceiving me, he assumed a gay air, and asked me where I had been rambling. 'I have been no where,' answered I, 'but with my friends at Wilson's.'--'Am I never, Malcolm,' said he with emotion, 'to have the comfort of finding my name in that list? Shall I never hear the voice of affection from a brother whom I love, and who is only unjust to me? Let me at least,' added he, offering me his hand, 'have this consolation before I leave England. I need it!' I did not refuse it, Madam, but my heart smote me; for I received his offered love ungraciously. 'I see,' said he, his fine face glowing, and his voice trembling, 'that I have no brother! Malcolm Maclairn is lost to me!' He turned away abruptly, whilst conscience-struck, I cursed those whose folly and injustice had rendered me callous to the pleadings of nature. I was ashamed of my conduct; and lest I should afflict my mother, forbore to mention this incident. From that hour I shunned Philip's eyes; for I felt his superiority of temper a reproach; and his increasing sadness became an intolerable weight on my spirits. Miss Flint's dejection at this time appeared to have changed her nature; my mother's firmness seemed to have the direction of her will; and her fondness for 'Harriot' rose in proportion as the hour approached, when she was to lose sight of her Philip. On the morning of Philip's