ve relations well to
do in the world, I think some application to them should be made. I fear
the state of her affairs weighs much upon your poor mother's mind; and
I must leave you to judge how far it can be relieved by the good feeling
of any persons upon whom she may have legitimate claims. At all events,
I repeat my wish that you should come to her forthwith.

"I am, &c."

After the physician had despatched this letter, a sudden and marked
alteration for the worse took place in his patient's disorder; and in
the visit he had paid that morning, he saw cause to fear that her hours
on earth would be much fewer than he had before anticipated. He had left
her, however, comparatively better; but two hours after his departure,
the symptoms of her disease had become very alarming, and the
good-natured servant girl, her sole nurse, and who had, moreover, the
whole business of the other lodgers to attend to, had, as we have seen,
thought it necessary to summon the apothecary in the interval that must
elapse before she could reach the distant part of the metropolis in
which Dr. ---- resided.

On entering the chamber, Arthur felt all the remorse, which of right
belonged to his father, press heavily on his soul. What a contrast, that
mean and solitary chamber, and its comfortless appurtenances, to the
graceful and luxurious abode where, full of health and hope, he had last
beheld her, the mother of Philip Beaufort's children! He remained silent
till Mr. Perkins, after a few questions, retired to send his drugs. He
then approached the bed; Catherine, though very weak and suffering much
pain, was still sensible. She turned her dim eyes on the young man; but
she did not recognise his features.

"You do not remember me?" said he, in a voice struggling with tears: "I
am Arthur--Arthur Beaufort." Catherine made no answer.

"Good Heavens! Why do I see you here? I believed you with your
friends--your children provided for--as became my father to do. He
assured me that you were so." Still no answer.

And then the young man, overpowered with the feelings of a sympathising
and generous nature, forgetting for a while Catherine's weakness, poured
forth a torrent of inquiries, regrets, and self-upbraidings, which
Catherine at first little heeded. But the name of her children, repeated
again and again, struck upon that chord which, in a woman's heart, is
the last to break; and she raised herself in her bed, and looked a