e had unjustly disinherited. When the disinherited was told that the only
words his departed parent had spoken after receiving his death-blow, the
only token of consciousness he had evinced was in faintly murmuring,
"Bless Edwin, my son," that son valued the world's wealth but as dross in
comparison; nor would he have exchanged those precious words for all the
uncounted riches of the globe! His father then had believed him innocent,
and had blessed him; and Edwin, the ornithologist of Ivy Lodge, came to
Lovell Castle, justly lord of all, but owning nothing save a thankful
heart and a peaceful mind, to be clasped in the arms of his faithful
sister Mildred, for they were twins, and linked together in heart. Then,
and not till then, were the following particulars narrated to Rose and
myself by Mrs. Priestly. Rose mourned deeply for her brother, but justice
to the living demanded full disclosure of the truth.

Edwin had never been a favorite with his father, a fall in infancy having
rendered him unsightly, and probably occasioned the delicate health which
induced that love of studious repose so opposite to those qualities which
Mr. Lovell admired in his younger son. A tutor was provided for Edwin at
home, while Harold, with his cousin, Jocelin Priestly, was sent to a
public school. With unfeeling thoughtlessness, Jocelin used often to amuse
himself by joking at the expense of Edwin's personal deformity, calling
him "hunchback," and many other nick-names, all of which the amiable youth
bore with unflinching patience and fortitude, ever returning good for
evil. The quarrels and rivalry between Harold and Jocelin were violent and
unceasing; and, previous to the last vacation, they had risen to a fiercer
pitch than formerly, Jocelin Priestly having carried off a prize from
Harold, which the latter declared was unfair. Jocelin's spirits were
outrageous, and in reckless levity he made so unceasing a butt of the
unfortunate elder brother, that Edwin determined to keep himself as much
aloof as possible from the boisterous pair, whose bickerings and
headstrong passion disturbed his equanimity. Mildred, whose love and
veneration for her beloved brother was returned by him with a depth of
affection which only the isolated can feel, vainly tried to make peace and
preserve concord. Mrs. Priestly, with a mother's doating partiality for an
only child, never _allowed_ Jocelin to be in fault, though she would chide
his exuberant spirits, and