“Determined!--oh yes.” She ran for the bracelets and brooch, and eagerly put them into Lady Davenant’s hand. And now another bright idea came into her mind: she had a carriage of her own--a very handsome carriage, almost new; she could part with it--yes, she would, though it was a present from her dear uncle--his last gift; and he had taken such pleasure in having it made perfect for her. She was very, very fond of it, but she would part with it; she saw no other means of abiding by her promise, and paying his debts and her own. This passed rapidly through her mind; and when she had expressed her determination, Lady Davenant’s manner instantly returned to all its usual kindness, and she exclaimed as she embraced her, drew her to her, and kissed her again and again--“You are my own Helen! These are deeds, Helen, not words: I am satisfied--I may be satisfied with you now! “And about that carriage, my dear, it shall not go to a stranger, it shall be mine. I want a travelling chaise--I will purchase it from you: I shall value it for my poor friend’s sake, and for yours, Helen. So now it is settled, and you are clear in the world again. I will never spoil you, but I will always serve you, and a greater pleasure I cannot have in this world.” After this happy termination of the dreaded confession, how much did Helen rejoice that she had had the courage to tell all to her friend. The pain was transient--the confidence permanent. As Helen was going into her own room, she saw Cecilia flying up stairs towards her, with an open letter in her hand, her face radiant with joy. “I always knew it would all end well! Churchill might well say that all the sand in my hour-glass was diamond sand. There, my dear Helen--there,” cried Cecilia, embracing her as she put the letter into her hand. It was from Beauclerc, his answer to Lady Cecilia’s letter, which had followed him to Naples. It was written the very instant he had read her explanation, and, warm from his heart, he poured out all the joy he felt on hearing the truth, and, in his transport of delight, he declared that he quite forgave Lady Cecilia, and would forget, as she desired, all the misery she had made him feel. Some confounded quarantine he feared might detain him, but he would certainly be at Clarendon Park in as short a time as possible. Helen’s first smile, he said, would console him for all he had suffered, and make him forget everything.