ntioned will be full of consolation
to me."

"Remember, my best-beloved brother, it is only the blessed that can enjoy
such a recognition--to the accursed it must add an additional weight to
the burthen of their woe."

"Felix trembled!" The thought that even this chance of again meeting my
sister, and of communing with her in the form in which I had ever seen and
loved her might be lost, came in aid of other good resolutions that the
state of the family had quickened in my heart. I thought, however, it
might be well not to let Grace lead the conversation to such subjects,
after all that had just passed, repose becoming necessary to her again. I
therefore proposed calling Lucy, in order that she might be carried to her
own room. I say carried; for, by a remark that fell from Chloe, I had
ascertained that this was the mode in which she had been brought to the
place of meeting. Grace acquiesced; but while we waited for Chloe to
answer the bell, she continued to converse.

"I have not exacted of you, Miles," my sister continued, "any promise to
keep my bequest a secret from the world; your own sense of delicacy would
do that; but, I will make it a condition that you do not speak of it to
either Mr. Hardinge or Lucy. They may possibly raise weak objections,
particularly the last, who has, and ever has had, some exaggerated
opinions about receiving money. Even in heydays of poverty, and poor as
she was, you know, notwithstanding our true love for each other, and close
intimacy, I never could induce Lucy to receive a cent. Nay, so scrupulous
has she been that the little presents which friends constantly give and
receive, she would decline, because she had not the means of offering them
in return."

I remembered the gold the dear girl had forced on me, when I first went to
sea, and could have kneeled at her feet and called her "blessed."

"And this did not make you love and respect Lucy the less, my sister? But
do not answer; so much conversing must distress you."

"Not at all, Miles. I speak without suffering, nor does the little talking
I do enfeeble me in the least. When I appear exhausted, it is from the
feelings which accompany our discourse. I talk much, very much, with dear
Lucy, who hears me with more patience than yourself, brother!"

I knew that this remark applied to Grace's wish to dwell on the unknown
future, and did not receive it as a reproach in any other sense. As she
seemed calm, however, I was willing