could prevent him from instantly
paying him his respects.

It was with feelings of no common emotion, even of agitation, that
Ferdinand beheld the woods of his ancient home rise in the distance, and
soon the towers and turrets of Armine Castle. Those venerable bowers,
that proud and lordly house, were not then to pass away from their old
and famous line? He had redeemed the heritage of his great ancestry; he
looked with unmingled complacency on the magnificent landscape, once
to him a source of as much anxiety as affection. What a change in
the destiny of the Armines! Their glory restored; his own devoted and
domestic hearth, once the prey of so much care and gloom, crowned with
ease and happiness and joy; on all sides a career of splendour and
felicity. And _he_ had done all this! What a prophet was his mother!
She had ever indulged the fond conviction that her beloved, son would
be their restorer. How wise and pious was the undeviating confidence of
kind old Glastonbury in their fate! With what pure, what heart-felt
delight, would that faithful friend listen to his extraordinary
communication!

His carriage dashed through the park gates as if the driver were
sensible of his master's pride and exultation. Glastonbury was ready to
welcome him, standing in the flower-garden, which he had made so rich
and beautiful, and which had been the charm and consolation of many of
their humbler hours.

'My dear, dear father!' exclaimed Ferdinand, embracing him, for thus he
ever styled his old tutor.

But Glastonbury could not speak; the tears quivered in his eyes and
trickled down his faded cheek. Ferdinand led him into the house.

'How well you look, dear father!' continued Ferdinand; 'you really look
younger and heartier than ever. You received all my letters, I am sure;
and yours, how kind of you to remember and to write to me! I never
forgot you, my dear, dear friend. I never could forget you. Do you know
I am the happiest fellow in the world? I have the greatest news in the
world to tell my Glastonbury--and we owe everything to you, everything.
What would Sir Ratcliffe have been without you? what should I have been?
Fancy the best news you can, dear friend, and it is not so good as I
have got to tell. You will rejoice, you will be delighted! We shall
furnish a castle! by Jove we shall furnish a castle! We shall indeed,
and you shall build it! No more gloom; no more care. The Armines shall
hold their heads up again, by Jo