“DEAR BROTHER PHILIP,--I am told you wish to know how I am, and therfore take up my pen, and assure you that I write all out of my own head. I am very Comfortable and happy--much more so than I have been since poor deir mama died; so I beg you won’t vex yourself about me: and pray don’t try and Find me out, For I would not go with you again for the world. I am so much better Off here. I wish you would be a good boy, and leave off your Bad ways; for I am sure, as every one says, I don’t know what would have become of me if I had staid with you. Mr. [the Mr. half scratched out] the gentleman I am with, says if you turn out Properly, he will be a friend to you, Too; but he advises you to go, like a Good boy, to Arthur Beaufort, and ask his pardon for the past, and then Arthur will be very kind to you. I send you a great Big sum of L20., and the gentleman says he would send more, only it might make you naughty, and set up. I go to church now every Sunday, and read good books, and always pray that God may open your eyes. I have such a Nice Pony, with such a long tale. So no more at present from your affectionate brother, SIDNEY MORTON.” Oct. 8, 18-- “Pray, pray don’t come after me Any more. You know I neerly died of it, but for this deir good gentleman I am with.” So this, then, was the crowning reward of all his sufferings and all his love! There was the letter, evidently undictated, with its errors of orthography, and in the child’s rough scrawl; the serpent’s tooth pierced to the heart, and left there its most lasting venom. “I have done with him for ever,” said Philip, brushing away the bitter tears. “I will molest him no farther; I care no more to pierce this mystery. Better for him as it is--he is happy! Well, well, and I--I will never care for a human being again.” He bowed his head over his hands; and when he rose, his heart felt to him like stone. It seemed as if Conscience herself had fled from his soul on the wings of departed Love. CHAPTER XII. “But you have found the mountain’s top--there sit On the calm flourishing head of it; And whilst with wearied steps we upward go, See us and clouds below.”--COWLEY. It was true that Sidney was happy in his new home, and thither we must now trace him.