d
shown such sympathy at the grave of Mary Waters. They are received by
the Curate, Mr. Johnson, the Lawyer and the Clerk. The young Earl waves
his hand, and every door and window, in the spacious edifice is thrown
open. With a kind word for every one, a merry joke with one fair maiden,
and a laughing glance at another, a cheerful nod to the young men, and a
hearty shake of the hand to the old, and as he decorously salutes each
old matron on the cheek, he fairly rushes into the arms of his quondam
aunt, who nearly goes into hysterics with joy, (which would have been
awkward, as she is stout, and has laced some,) so she thinks better of
it, and cries over him, which does just as well. Such a shout arises as
makes the very welkin ring. He stops upon the top-most step, Capt.
Williams and the others by his side. Every sound is hushed as he speaks.
'It is not outside, my friends, whom I hope I may never give reason to
regret this day. It is not outside of my halls that I can give you
thanks for my reception. There is no room in my house in which you are
not freely welcome, this night, and to him who will not accept the call
of the Earl de Montford, I will send poor Edward Barnett. Ten years from
this day, if such of you as are spared, and I am one, will meet me here
again, I will render to you an account of my stewardship, and then if
you can raise again the cheers with which you have this day greeted me,
poor Edward Barnett will be more than rewarded for his trials, and the
Count de Montford the happiest of his race.' The glorious sun shone full
upon his manly form and handsome features, and as cheer upon cheer
arose, not one that looked upon his open truthful countenance, feared he
would not redeem his promise, or disgrace the proud motto emblazoned on
the banners that waved high above his head on the battlements;--Nulli
Secundi,--Second to none.

POSTSCRIPT.

THE AUTHOR TO THE READER.

Gentle reader! if thou hast been interested in this tale of human hopes
and fears--of stern retribution on the wicked, if thou hast shed a tear
over the fate of the gentle and the good--thou wilt perhaps be anxious
to know more of him, who at the close of our tale, we left--in life's
young morning brightness--with wealth and power to aid in his path. Did
he fall from his high estate, did prosperity dim the lustre of his
promise, (and methinks some gentle maiden asks, how sped he in his
love.) If thou hast borne with our tediousne