“What does all this mean, Henry? Really it is very disagreeable, and you quite frighten me; I wish you would not be so odd and mysterious.” “Listen to me, father. I scarcely know how to break to you the news I have to impart.” “Speak, for Heaven’s sake. I always hate being kept in suspense.” “Cresford is alive! alive, and coming home, as he thinks, to the arms of his beloved wife!” “Impossible, Henry! you are jesting;” and Captain Wareham attempted to smile; but he dropped powerless into his chair, and clasped his hands, adding, “If this is a jest, it is a cruel one!” Henry then, in a few words, gave him an outline of the case, and told him that Ellen and he had agreed, that until Cresford arrived, and that the truth was past all hope of concealment, it was best to treat it as an amicable separation on the score of temper. Henry had advised Ellen not even to confide the truth to Mrs. Allenham; for amiable and kind-hearted as she was, still she was not free from an inclination to gossip, and she would never be able to prevent such a secret from escaping her lips, to some of her old and dear friends in her native place. Captain Wareham, whose good heart and high feeling of honour rendered him, in fact, an estimable man, approved of all that his unfortunate daughter had done; and was cut to the soul when he looked forward to the miserable fate which probably awaited her. “And when Cresford does return, Henry, how will he conduct himself? I dread his violence!” “I dare say he will make her a liberal allowance,” answered Henry; “for he was always noble about money; but at the same time I cannot help fearing he will take the children from her. In common justice, he cannot visit upon her, farther than that, the consequences of his own rash imposture.” “I hope not; but you were too young when he went to France, to know the full violence of his character—the vehemence of his ungoverned passions. But we must go to my poor, poor unhappy child.” Her sisters had been all kindness to Ellen, though Matilda, in her thoughtless fondness, had asked a thousand painful questions concerning Mr. Hamilton, her pet Agnes, &c.; but Caroline, who was quite persuaded she understood the whole case perfectly, discreetly avoided every thing that led to such subjects, till Matilda went to see to her hospitable arrangements for their accommodation, and they were left alone. “Dearest Ellen!” Caroline then said, “I was afraid it would come to this, when I left you a month ago. Who would ever have thought that Mr. Hamilton could have turned out so ill, for I am sure you could never have been the one to blame; nobody ever saw you out of temper in your life.” Ellen looked up. “Breathe not a word against him, Caroline: he is the most perfect, the most faultless of human beings! I always thought my happiness was too great to last, and it has proved so. May Heaven, in its mercy, protect and bless him!”