No language of mine can do justice to the feelings with which Mr. Aubrey, after many pauses, occasioned by absolutely irrepressible emotion, perused the foregoing letter. Its generosity was infinitely enhanced by its delicacy; and both were exquisitely appreciated by a man of his susceptibility, and in his circumstances. His eyes--his heart, overflowed with unutterable gratitude towards the Almighty, and the noble instrument of his mercy. He could have flown on the wings of the wind to the dear beings in Vivian Street, with joyous face and light elastic step, to make them participators in his joy. He rose and walked to and fro by the river side with most exhilarated spirits. The sky was cloudless: the sun shone brilliantly; and innumerable brisk and busy craft were moving to and fro upon the swelling bosom of the magnificent Thames. Gladness was in his soul. The light without was typical of that within. Several times he was on the point of starting off to Vivian Street; but, on consideration, he resolved to go to Messrs. Runnington, and put them into instant communication with Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap; and matters having been set in train for the speediest possible settlement, Mr. Aubrey returned to chambers; but quitted them an hour earlier than usual, to brighten the countenances of those he loved, by the joyous intelligence he bore. But he found that they also had cheering news to communicate; so that this was indeed a memorable day to them. Lady Stratton, not only a relative, but a devoted bosom friend of the late Mrs. Aubrey, had, it may easily be believed, never ceased to take a lively interest in the fortunes of the unhappy Aubreys. She was now far advanced in years, and childless; and though she enjoyed an ample life income, derived from the liberality of her husband, Sir Beryl Stratton, Baronet, who had died some twenty or thirty years before; yet, seeing no necessity for saving money, she had followed the noble example of her deceased friend Mrs. Aubrey, and bestowed annually all her surplus income in the most liberal and systematic charity. Many years before, however, she had resolved upon making a provision for Miss Aubrey, whom she loved as if she had been her mother; and the expedient she had resorted to (quite unknown to the Aubreys) was to insure her life for the sum of £15,000, the whole of which sum she had intended to bequeath to Miss Aubrey. The premiums on so large an insurance, were heavy annual drains upon her purse; and, together with her long-continued charities, and the expenditure necessary to support her station, left her but stinted means for contributing to the relief of the ruined Aubreys. With some difficulty, however, the old lady, in one way or another, principally by effecting a loan from the insurance company upon her policy, had contrived to raise a sum of £2,000; and Miss Aubrey had that morning received a letter from her, full of tenderness, begging her to