Mrs. Wilson smiled mournfully as she wished Humphreys good day and put up her purse, finding the old man so well provided for; a display or competition in charity never entering into her system of benevolence. "His lordship is munificent in his bounty," said Emily, as they drove from the door. "Does it not savor of thoughtlessness to bestow so much where he can know so little?" Lord Chatterton ventured to inquire. "He is," replied Mrs. Wilson, "as old Humphrey says, main rich; but the son of the old man and the father of these children is a soldier in the ----th dragoons, of which the earl is colonel, and that accounts to me for his liberality," recollecting, with a sigh, the feelings which had drawn her out of the usual circle of her charities in the case of the same man. "Did you ever see Lord Pendennyss, aunt?" "Never, my dear; he has been much abroad, but my letters were filled with his praises, and I confess my disappointment is great in not seeing him on this visit to Lord Bolton who is his relation; but," fixing her eyes thoughtfully on her niece, "we shall meet in London this winter, I trust." As she spoke a cloud passed over her features, and she continued much absorbed in thought for the remainder of their drive. General Wilson had been a cavalry officer, and he commanded the very regiment now held by Lord Pendennyss. In an excursion near the British camp he had been rescued from captivity, if not from death, by a gallant and timely interference of this young nobleman, then in command of a troop in the same corps. He had mentioned the occurrence to his wife in his letters, and from that day his correspondence was filled with the praises of the bravery and goodness to the soldiery of his young comrade. When he fell he had been supported from the field by, and he actually died in the arms of the young peer. A letter announcing his death had been received by his widow from the earl himself, and the tender and affectionate manner in which he spoke of her husband had taken a deep hold on her affections. All the circumstances together threw an interest around him that had made Mrs. Wilson almost entertain the romantic wish he might be found worthy and disposed to solicit the hand of Emily. Her anxious inquiries into his character had been attended with such answers as flattered her wishes; but the military duties of the earl or his private affairs had never allowed a meeting; and she was now compelled to look forward to what John laughingly termed their winter campaign, as the only probable place where she could be gratified with the sight of a young man to whom she owed so much, and whose name was connected with some of the most tender though most melancholy recollections of her life.