her and
mother, who began to think themselves neglected, as he had been so
deeply engaged in affairs of more consequence that he had not been
particularly attentive to them; he made them come into the great hall,
and presented them to his lady.

"These," said he, "are the good people to whom I am, under God, indebted
for my present happiness; they were my first benefactors; I was obliged
to them for food and sustenance in my childhood, and this good woman
nourished my infancy at her own breast." The lady received them
graciously, and saluted Margery. Andrew kneeled down, and, with great
humility, begged Edmund's pardon for his treatment of him in his
childhood. "I heartily forgive you," said he, "and I will excuse you to
yourself; it was natural for you to look upon me as an intruder that
was eating your children's bread; you saved my life, and afterwards
you sustained it by your food and raiment: I ought to have maintained
myself, and to have contributed to your maintenance. But besides this,
your treatment of me was the first of my preferment; it recommended
me to the notice of this noble family. Everything that happened to me
since, has been a step to my present state of honour and happiness.
Never man had so many benefactors as myself; but both they, and myself,
have been only instruments in the hands of Providence, to bring about
its own purposes; let us praise God for all! I shared your poverty, and
you will share my riches; I will give you the cottage where you dwell,
and the ground about it; I will also pay you the annual sum of ten
pounds for the lives of you both; I will put out your children to manual
trades, and assist you to provide for them in their own station; and you
are to look upon this as paying a debt, and not bestowing a gift; I owe
you more than I can ever pay; and, if there be any thing further in my
power that will contribute to your happiness, you can ask nothing in
reason that I will deny you."

Andrew hid his face; "I cannot bear it!" said he; "oh what a brute was
I, to abuse such a child as this! I shall never forgive myself!"

"You must indeed, my friend; for I forgive and thank you."

Andrew retired back, but Margery came forward; she looked earnestly on
Edmund, she then threw her arms about his neck, and wept aloud.

"My precious child! my lovely babe! thank God, I have lived to see this
day! I will rejoice in your good fortune, and your bounty to us, but
I must ask one more favour y