"Tell my unnatural son, he never shall triumph over the fall of his mother!--By the time this reaches your hands, I shall have bidden an eternal adieu to England; to seek a retreat where I may securely laugh at, and despise both him and the power of justice. "As Louise's offence of appearing in my presence, I believe, was unintentional, tell her, I forgive her--and, some years hence, may, perhaps, be induced to remember I am her mother. "CAROLINE CORBET." The satisfaction of Sir Henry's friends at this event, so much more favourable than they had expected, could be equalled only by his own, at the disappointment of his fears, respecting his mother. Cheerfully he returned their gratulations; till Mr. Talton reminded him, it was requisite he should go to the Hall, and examine into the state of his affairs. A carriage was accordingly ordered, and Sir Henry, accompanied by Mr. Talton and the Captain, took possession of his paternal habitation. On inquiring after the retreat of Lady Corbet, the housekeeper informed them, she had left the Hall, unattended, and in a hired carriage; and that Mallet was likewise gone--they knew not whither. The tenantry were then assembled; who with satisfaction admitted the justice of his claim, and openly rejoiced at their young landlord's succession to the fortunes of his father. On examining the accounts of Mallet, Sir Henry was induced to coincide with Mr. Talton's opinion, that his mother had not left England unprovided for; and knowing that his father, at his decease, had money to a considerable amount, in the Caermarthen and Pembroke banks, immediately agreed to his guardians proposal, of going to those places, that he might be certified what property he had still remaining. Accordingly, writing to his friends at Mr. Talton's, to acquaint them with their proceedings, they set out for Pembroke. Whilst Sir Henry and his guardians were thus employed, Edward, authorised by the previous approbation of his father, commenced his inquiry after the fair Unknown. Nor was the heart of Frederick more at ease than Edward's: from the time he beheld Ellen at the grave of her aunt, he had cherished a secret attachment. Restrained, however, by the consideration of his dependent state, he would have refrained from an avowal of his love; but, unused to disguise, the secret of his heart escaped him: nor could the artless Ellen conceal the delight which sparkled in her intelligent eyes at the declaration; yet a moment after saw them suffused in tears. "Prudence, Frederick," she timidly answered, "must forbid your encouraging any sentiments of regard for me. I am an orphan, and, though not friendless, poor in the extreme!"