st as his two legs would carry
him, the stranger who accompanied me from Portsmouth having just before,
most opportunely for me, sprung through the window and saved me from the
effects of that worthy's anger.

I had no disposition to follow him; indeed, I had a matter of far more
interest to occupy my attention at the moment. My mother sank into a
chair. I sprang forward to embrace her, and while she threw one of her
arms round my neck, she pointed at the stranger, exclaiming:

"Is it real, or am I in a dream? Who are you? Say! Say! Do not mock
me!"

"Polly, you are my own true loving wife, and I am your live husband--
your faithful Dick Burton!" exclaimed my father, for he it was in
reality, as he came forward and took my mother in his arms.

"No wonder you thought me dead, Mary, and a long yarn I have to tell
you, how it all happened. And is this young gentleman Ben, our Ben?" he
asked, as he put his arm round my neck and kissed me on the brow. "I
know it is; yet if I had not seen him here I should not have known him.
Well, to see him a quarter-deck officer, and on the road to promotion,
and you, Mary, alive and well, and as young looking as ever, repays me
for all I have gone through, and that's no trifle."

Now, most women under the trying circumstances I have described would
have fainted away or gone into hysterics, but my mother did neither one
nor the other. Perhaps we had to thank Mr Gillooly for saving her from
such a result. My idea is the agitation which that worthy gentleman had
put her into counteracted the effects which might have been produced,
first from my sudden appearance, and then by the unlooked-for return of
my father. I do not mean to say that she was not agitated, and was very
nearly fainting, but she did not faint; indeed, her nerves stood the
trial in a most wonderful manner. After I had been with my mother and
my newly-found father for some time, I bethought me that I ought to go
and pay my respects to Mrs Schank and to Miss Emily, who, my mother
told me, was sitting with her; I therefore went to the drawing-room
door, and, tapping, asked if I might enter.

"Come in," said a sweet voice. The owner of the sweet voice started
when she saw me, for she was evidently uncertain who I could be, while
the old lady peered at me through her spectacles.

Emily, however, coming forward, put out her hand.

"How delightful! You are welcome back, Ben!" she exclaimed. "I mean
Mr Burton