“Your aunt would forgive my sadness, my dear child, did she know its cause.  I was wrong to encourage it, but I could not look on these bright features,” he laid his hand, which trembled, on Edward’s arm, “without seeing again past times peopled with those who have passed away.  Mrs. Hamilton, I thought again the merry favourite of my old friend, your father, stood before me, the gay, the thoughtless, lovely Eleanor; she was like him, in the bloom of youth and freshness, when I last beheld her; and I thought, as mine eye glanced on this well known uniform, there was another still of whom he reminded me,—­the adopted son of my affections, the darling of my childless years, Charles, my gallant warm-hearted Charles!  Nearly six years was he with me, when his courage earned him a lieutenant’s berth; he changed his quarters and his commander, and I saw him no more.  Such was he; such—­oh, I thought Eleanor and Charles again were before me, and I longed for the friend of my early years, to recognise in his grandson the features of his Eleanor, the voice, the laugh, and figure of his Charles.  Forgive me, my dear children, I have frightened away your mirth, and made myself gloomy.”

There was silence as he ceased, and Sir George was the first to break it, by addressing Edward with animation, questioning him as to all his hopes and anticipations with regard to his promotion, which, as his six years of service were now passed, he allowed to occupy his mind, and in such conversation all traces of gloom quickly vanished; and Ellen, interested in their conference, lingered near them in recovered spirits, till the bell summoned all those who chose to join in the evening prayer.  All attended, except young Myrvin, who had departed.  Herbert felt anxious on his friend’s account, for many reasons, which we must postpone explaining till a future page; suffice it now to say that the young man’s conduct not seeming to be such as his profession demanded, a degree of scarcely-perceptible, but keenly-felt coldness was displayed towards him, both by Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Howard.  Herbert had this night remarked that his cheek was pale, his eye almost haggard, and his words and manner often confused, and he had endeavoured to elicit the cause of his inward disturbance, but unsuccessfully; the young man, although very evidently unhappy, appeared to shrink from his confidence, and Herbert, though grieved, desisted from his friendly office.  That night Mr. Hamilton resigned his place at the reading-desk to the worthy minister, who, both in public and private worship, knew so well the duties of his sacred office.  He read the chapters of the evening, with a brief but explanatory commentary on each, and after the usual prayers, broke forth into a strain of earnest thanksgiving for the safe return of him who, since he had last addressed his God, surrounded by his family, had been exposed to the temptations and dangers of the sea, and mercifully preserved through them all, and permitted