"My child," cried he, "come hither, and with me thank the giver of all good for the virtuous firmness of your cousin! He has not only preserved that bloom Of truth unimpaired, which, if once lost never is regained; but he has risqued his life this morning, to avoid a man who, I know, he loves, but whose society he relinquishes because he believes him to be as full of vices as of charms. Come Alice, and bow with me before his Almighty guardian!" Alice sunk on her knees by the side of her uncle. She bent her face upon his fervent hands, and pressed them with her lips as her heart breathed with devotion the thanksgiving his eloquent piety pronounced. Cornelia, having been the glad messenger to Mr. Athelstone, and afterwards to her mother, of the safe return of Louis, accompanied Mrs. Coningsby to the general sitting room. It was that in which they had welcomed the travellers the preceding night, and where they found them now. Ferdinand had cast himself into a chair, fatigued and gloomy. His father stood by the window, gazing on him in anxious silence. Mrs. Coningsby had not time to address either, before the Pastor entered. He advanced immediately to Santa Cruz; and his aged eyes not discerning the peculiar sadness of his guest, "My Lord Marquis," cried he, "Louis de Montemar is returned. And I take shame to myself for having doubted the integrity of his word." "My son has told me sufficient of the manner in which Mr. de Montemar has kept it, to fill me with respect for his principles, and to inspire me with something more than admiration for the determination with which he has asserted them." Before the Marquis had ceased speaking, a quick step was heard in the passage. "Here is my dear nephew," cried Mrs. Coningsby, and the next moment he opened the door; but perceiving the strangers, he checked the buoyant gladness with which he was coming forward, and with a graceful bow advanced into the room. Alice glided in after him, and took a seat behind her mother's chair. Mr. Athelstone immediately named to him the Marquis Santa Cruz, and Don Ferdinand d'Osorio. The Marquis scanned for a moment the son of Ripperda, and the comparison he could not but draw was wormwood to the heart of a father. Nature had given Louis a passport to almost every bosom; a countenance and a figure which needed no addition to complete the perfect form of youthful nobleness. "Mr. de Montemar," said Santa Cruz, addressing him with a sigh he could not smother, "you have this day proved how worthy you are of the name you bear. I shall be proud of your friendship for my son."