, and lulled by those harmonious sounds, our
young patient passed a night of pleasant unconsciousness, and awoke in
the morning to find a summer sun streaming in at the window, and his
kind host and hostess smiling at his bed-curtains. He was ravenously
hungry, and his doctor permitted him straightway to partake of a mess of
chicken, which the doctor's wife told him had been prepared by the hands
of one of her daughters.

One of her daughters? A faint image of a young person--of two young
persons--with red cheeks and black waving locks, smiling round his
couch, and suddenly departing thence, soon after he had come to
himself, arose in the young man's mind. Then, then, there returned the
remembrance of a female--lovely, it is true, but more elderly--certainly
considerably older--and with f----. Oh, horror and remorse! He writhed
with anguish, as a certain recollection crossed him. An immense gulf of
time gaped between him and the past. How long was it since he had heard
that those pearls were artificial,--that those golden locks were only
pinchbeck? A long, long time ago, when he was a boy, an innocent boy.
Now he was a man,--quite an old man. He had been bled copiously; he had
a little fever; he had had nothing to eat for very many hours; he had a
sleeping-draught, and a long, deep slumber after.

"What is it, my dear child?" cries kind Mrs. Lambert, as he started.

"Nothing, madam; a twinge in my shoulder," said the lad. "I speak to my
host and hostess? Sure you have been very kind to me."

"We are old friends, Mr. Warrington. My husband, Colonel Lambert,
knew your father, and I and your mamma were schoolgirls together at
Kensington. You were no stranger to us when your aunt and cousin told us
who you were."

"Are they here?" asked Harry, looking a little blank.

"They must have lain at Tunbridge Wells last night. They sent a horseman
from Reigate yesterday for news of you."

"Ah! I remember," says Harry, looking at his bandaged arm.

"I have made a good cure of you, Mr. Warrington. And now Mrs. Lambert
and the cook must take charge of you."

"Nay; Theo prepared the chicken and rice, Mr. Lambert," said the lady.
"Will Mr. Warrington get up after he has had his breakfast? We will send
your valet to you."

"If howling proves fidelity, your man must be a most fond, attached
creature," says Mr. Lambert.

"He let your baggage travel off after all in your aunt's carriage," said
Mrs. Lambert. "You must wear my hu