r truest friend, and
a glow of sweet and soothing pleasure stole over Mrs. Hamilton's mind at
this conviction. Caroline had said it was the recollection of her
mother's care, devotion, and love that had stayed her, ere it was too
late. She could not banish from her heart the duty therein so long and
carefully implanted; the principles of religion, of virtue, shaken as
they had been in that painful moment of indecision, had preserved her
from misery. Often, very often, Mrs. Hamilton had felt disheartened,
almost despairing in her task, during both the childhood and youth of
Caroline, but now her recompense was apparent. Had she not persevered,
had she been indolent or careless in the discharge of her duty, had she
left the care of that child to strangers, who would never have thus
studied or guided so difficult a disposition, there would have been
naught to bid her pause. She would have done as others too often do, and
fearful indeed would have been her chastisement. Now, what were all Mrs.
Hamilton's self-conquering struggles, all the pain she had suffered,
compared with the exquisite happiness of feeling that her care had
preserved her child, and she knew not as yet from what depth of
wretchedness? Fervent was the gratitude for that grace which had
permitted her to guide her child aright; and as she recalled the
heartfelt approbation of her conduct, which her beloved husband had
gratefully expressed, happiness filled her heart, and many, very many
might have envied that noble woman her feelings, as she laid her head on
her pillow that night, when sleep only hushed the still lingering
thanksgiving on her lips.

It may be well here briefly to relate all that had passed at Airslie,
from the moment we left Caroline imploring pardon and guidance from Him,
to whom she had never appealed in vain, to that when she so suddenly
appeared in company with the Duchess in Berkeley Square. To accede to
Lord Alphingham's wishes, she felt was no longer possible, but how to
avoid him was a matter of still greater difficulty. To accompany the
Duchess and thus elude him, she could not, for she felt neither her
strength nor spirits could sustain her through the whole of that festive
night. Each minute as it passed increased the fever of her brain, at
length in despair she determined on the conduct with which we are
already acquainted. As soon as the last carriage had rolled from the
door she summoned Allison, the Duchess's own maid, and in