ow. Edith is happy. We will all be happy,--my father
too,--come and see him, Ernest,--come, and tell me, if I have need to
blush for my lineage."

"Not for your lineage, but your husband. What must this noble father
think of me?"

"Every thing that is kind and Christian. He has sustained my faith, fed
my hopes, and prophesied this hour of reunion. Come, the moment you have
seen him, you will trust, revere, and love him."

With slow and lingering steps we walked the winding gallery that led
from the library, and entered the parlor, whose lights seemed dazzling
in contrast to the soft gloom we had left behind.

Hand in hand we approached my father, who stood with his back to one of
the windows, his tall and stately figure nobly defined. I tried to utter
the words, "My husband! my father!" but my parted lips were mute. I
threw myself into his arms, with a burst of emotion that was
irrepressible, and he grasped the hand of Ernest and welcomed and blest
him in warm, though faltering accents. Then Edith came with her sweet
April face, and hung once more upon her brother's neck, and his mother
again embraced him, and Julian walked to the window and looked abroad,
to hide the tears which he thought a stain upon his manhood.

It was not till after the excitement of the hour had subsided, that we
realized how weak and languid Ernest really was. He was obliged to
confess how much he had suffered from illness and fatigue, and that his
strength was completely exhausted. As he reclined on one of the sofas,
the crimson hue of the velvet formed such a startling contrast to the
pallor of his complexion, it gave him an appearance almost unearthly.

"You have been ill, my son," said Mrs. Linwood, watching him with
intense anxiety.

"I have been on the confines of the spirit world, my mother; so near as
to see myself by the light it reflected. Death is the solar microscope
of life. It shows a hideous mass, where all seemed fair and pure."

He laid his hand over his eyes with a nervous shudder.

"But I am well now," he added; "I am only suffering from fatigue and
excitement. Gabriella's letter found me leaning over the grave. It
raised me, restored me, brought me back to life, to hope, to love, and
home."

He told us, in the course of the evening, how he had found Mr. Harland
on the eve of embarking for India, and that he offered to be his
companion; and how he had written to his mother before his voyage,
telling her of his dest