f?" she sobbed, and sunk almost fainting
in his embrace; convulsively the brother pressed her to his bosom. It
seemed as if the happiness of that moment was too great for reality, as
if it were but some dream of bliss; scarcely was he conscious of the
warm greeting he received; the uncontrollable emotion of the old
Admiral, who, as he wrung his hand again and again, wept like a child.
His brain seemed to reel, and every object danced before his eyes, he
was alone sensible that he held his sister in his arms, that sister whom
he had loved even more devotedly, more constantly in his hours of
slavery, than when she had been ever near him. Her counsels, her example
had had but little apparent effect on him when a wild and reckless boy
at his father's house, but they had sustained him in his affliction; it
was then he knew the value of those serious thoughts and feelings his
sister had so laboured to inculcate, and associated as they were with
her, she became dearer each time he felt himself supported, under his
many trials, by fervent prayer and that implicit trust, of which she had
so often spoken.

In wondering astonishment the younger members of the family had regarded
this little scene some minutes before the truth had flashed on the mind
of Mrs. Hamilton. Both St. Eval and Percy had guessed who in reality the
stranger was, and waited in some anxiety for the effect that recognition
would have on Mrs. Hamilton, whom Edward had already considerably
agitated. With characteristic delicacy of feeling, all then left the
room, Sir George Wilmot and Mr. Hamilton alone remaining with the
long-separated brother and sister.

"My uncle Charles himself! Fool, idiot that I was never to discover this
before!" had been Edward's exclamation, in a tone of unrestrained joy.

A short time sufficed to restore all to comparative composure, but a
longer interval was required for Charles Manvers, whom we must now term
Lord Delmont, to ask and to answer the innumerable questions which were
naturally called forth by his unexpected return; much had he to hear and
much to tell, even leaving, as he said he would, the history of his
adventures in Algiers to amuse two or three winter evenings, when all
his family were around him.

"All my family," he repeated, in a tone of deep feeling. "Do I say this?
I, the isolated, desolate being I imagined myself; I, who believed so
many years had passed, that I should remain unrecognised, unloved,
forgotten