y clearing up the mistake about the name.
Luckily, Lord Plympton held office, and a note from him to the proper
authorities was of great service. How eagerly were the lawyer's
letters to Coote-down looked for by its inmates! The first announced
that, thanks to Lord Plympton's influence, everything had been
arranged, and that, on producing Herbert, and proving him to be the
representative of the name 'Hard' found in the list of seamen, his
discharge would be granted. The second letter was dated Portsmouth.
Herbert had arrived! He was much browner than heretofore, but more
robust and manly. His manners had altered most: from bordering on the
polite and finical, adversity and rough usage had made them more
direct and blunt. The third communication was from London, and stated
that the Earl of Plympton had insisted on Herbert making his
lordship's house his home. Nothing could exceed the friendly warmth
with which he had been received by the whole family, especially by
the Lady Elizabeth. After some difficulty, the discharge was
obtained, and the letter concluded by actually fixing a day for
Herbert's appearance in the hall of his fathers.

The vastness of Mrs Hardman's preparations were equal to the
greatness of her joy. The scene of the former reception was to be
enacted over again, but with additional splendour.

The time came, and with it the long-lost son. Mrs Hardman met him on
the hall steps, and clasped him in her arms with a fondness she had
never evinced before. But he was impatient. There was another being
whom he longed to fold in his arms. Mrs Hardman conducted him,
impelled by impatience, into her dressing-room, where Catherine
waited, trembling and expectant. Herbert rushed forward and clasped
her in an embrace which seemed to pour forth an age of long-suppressed
and passionate affection. The mother looked on in silent delight. She
seemed to share in the lovers' slightest emotion.

The first raptures having subsided, Herbert gazed upon the face of
his mistress. At the first glance he would have started back, had not
the firm affection of Catherine's embrace detained him. From the most
vivid signs of love and hope fulfilled, his countenance altered to an
expression of doubt and disappointment. 'Catherine?' he said in a
tone of inquiry--'_my_ Catherine?'

'Yes,' replied the mother sorrowfully. 'But how changed,' replied
Herbert somewhat abruptly; 'how very much changed!'

A mass of thought and recollection