had not been there more than six months when
the death, without issue, of his eldest brother, Sir Henry Wilmot, put
him in possession of the entailed estates and of the baronetcy.

This decided him not to return to India for his wife and three
daughters, whom he had left out there, but to write, desiring them to
return home by the first ship. The reply which he received was most
painful; his wife and two of his daughters had been carried off by the
cholera, which had been very fatal during the previous rainy season.
His remaining daughter was about to sail, in obedience to his wishes, in
the _Grosvenor_ East-Indiaman, under the care of Colonel and Mrs. James,
who were near connections.

This was a heavy blow with which it pleased God to visit him in his
prosperity, and was almost a total wreck of all his hopes and
anticipations. But he was a good man and a religious one, and he bowed
in humility to the dispensation, submitting with resignation to his
loss, and still thankful to Heaven that it had graciously spared one of
the objects of his affections to console him, and to watch his declining
years.

Sir Charles Wilmot took possession of the family mansion and estate in
Berkshire, in which he was still residing at the time our history
commences. By degrees he became more resigned, and waited with anxiety
for the return of his only daughter, who now seemed more dear to him
than ever. He employed himself in making preparations for her reception,
fitting up her apartments in the Oriental style which she had been
accustomed to, and devising every little improvement and invention which
he thought would give pleasure to a child of ten years old.

But it pleased Heaven that Sir Charles should be more severely
chastised; the _Grosvenor's_ time of arrival had elapsed, and still she
was not reported in the Channel; week after week of anxiety and suspense
passed slowly away, and the East-India ship did not make her appearance.
It was supposed that she had been captured by the enemy, but still no
tidings of her capture were received. At length, however, this state of
anxiety and doubt was put an end to by the dreadful intelligence that
the ship had been wrecked on the east coast of Africa, and that nearly
the whole of the crew and passengers had perished. Two men belonging to
her had been brought home by a Danish East-Indiaman, and shortly after
the first intelligence, these men arrived in London, and gave a more
particular det