to Scotland. This night would have seen the accomplishment of
their design. Had one of my children behaved thus, it would have been
less a matter of bewilderment to me than such conduct in a daughter of
yours. I have neglected to seek their confidence, their affection. You
have never rested in your endeavours to obtain both, and therefore, that
such should be your recompense is sad indeed. I sympathise with you, my
dearest friend," she continued, in a tone of much more feeling than she
ever allowed to be visible. "In the tale of shame I am repeating, I am
inflicting misery upon you, I feel I am; and yet, in resigning my
charge, I must do my duty, and set you on your guard, and let this one
reflection be your comfort, that it was the recollection of your
untiring care, your constant affection, which checked this infatuated
girl in her career of error, and bade her pause ere it was too late. For
her sufferings I have little pity; she is no longer the character I
believed her. Neither integrity, honour, nor candour can be any longer
inmates of her heart; the confession I have heard this night has
betrayed a lengthened scheme of deception, to which, had I heard it of
her, I should have given no credence. Forgive me, my dear Emmeline, and
look not on me so beseechingly; painful as it is, in the sincerest
friendship alone I place before your too partial eyes the real character
of your child. I have now done my duty, and will therefore leave you.
God bless you, and grant you strength to bear this bitter trial." She
turned to the unhappy father, who, as she spoke, had, overcome with
uncontrollable agitation, sunk on a chair and covered his face with his
hands, but with a strong effort he roused himself as she pronounced his
name, and rose.

"Mr. Hamilton, to your wife, your inestimable wife, you owe the
preservation of your child this night from sin. Let her not, I beseech
you, afflict herself too deeply for those sufferings under which she may
behold Caroline for a time the victim. She deserves them all--all; but
she merits not one half that affection which her fond and loving mother
would lavish on her. I leave you now, but, trust me, feeling deeply for
you both."

"Nay, rest with us to night, at least," exclaimed Mr. Hamilton,
conquering himself sufficiently to think of his friend's situation,
alone, in London, at such a late hour, and endeavouring to persuade her
to remain with them; but decidedly, yet kindly, she refused