“As the wife of my son, Mark Wilton,” he replied, with energy, “and my beloved, esteemed daughter.” He caught her in his arms, and pressed her to his breast. “I know all now; I honour you, my child,” he said, warmly; “the details of your past history have been made known to me, and I blush when I think how nobly you, an unassisted helpless girl, have sustained your integrity, your virtuous truthfulness, your self-respect, against all temptations and assaults, against which I, more fortified to withstand them, have fallen back. I should, my child, now be proud of you as a friend--I shall be prouder still of you as a daughter; ever, ever glad of your sweet presence in my household, recording few happier days in my past history than that which sees you wedded to my son.” Poor Lotte! all her trials and her griefs were nothing to this. They needed courage to meet and firmness to bear them. This announcement by Wilton was the very bursting of a white cloud of happiness, and she could only sob passionately on his shoulder, without uttering one word in reply. As soon as the old man, who was much affected, could recover his voice, he summoned an individual who was waiting without with most feverish impatience. Mark entered, and pronounced her name; and she lifted her weeping face from his father’s shoulder, and, with a faint effort at a smile, tendered him her hand. That instalment was insufficient for his requirements. He relieved his father of his charge, took her in his own arms and folded them about her. And he whispered softly in her ear-- “Will you refuse to be mine now, dearest, dearest Lotte?” “Oh, Mark,” she murmured, “my heart is so full, I cannot speak to you!” “What! not one little word, Lotte?” he urged. “And see, here is Flora; will you not greet her as your sister?” And, in truth, there was Flora, who, in her turn, took possession of Lotte; and Nathan Gomer, who had no intention of being out of the way where happiness was going on. And now the question was put formally to Lotte, that she might no more have misgivings about the nature of her reception in Wilton’s family, whether she would _accept_ Mark for her husband? Lotte murmured something about consulting her brother Charley. Such a notion was at once promptly and generally ignored; and so she said, clearly and earnestly, that to wed Mark would be the happiest event which could happen to her in her whole life. Of course she was borne off in triumph to Wilton’s mansion in the Regent’s Park, where, to her satisfaction, she found assembled to meet her Helen Riversdale, and her husband, and Eva Grahame, and her brother Charley.