“Be calm, my dear friend,” he said, after glancing his eyes over the parchment; “be calm.  You have experienced enough of the changes and chances of this world not to build too quickly upon any foundation but the one—­the goodness of God; I do believe this is an especial proof of His Providence, for I do think this is Cornelius Bond Hobart’s original will in your uncle’s favour.”

It would be useless to attempt a description of the scene that followed; but the joy at the reality of the discovery was a heartful temperate joy—­the joy of chastened hearts.  Sarah Bond, blessing God, above all things, that, go the law as it would, her father’s memory would now be held as the memory of an honest man; that he had, as she had said, copied, not forged the will.  Mr. Goulding declared he should find it difficult to forgive himself for having so long prevented the old furniture from being sent, assuring her, the dread that Mabel was unfit to contend with the privations to which the lives of humble men are doomed, made him tremble for the happiness of the young friend who had been consigned to his care by a dying mother; he feared to renew the intercourse, until her character was developed; while poor Mabel had little thought how closely she was watched along the humble and thorny paths she had to traverse.

Sarah Bond’s spirit was so chastened, that she regretted nothing save the shadow cast upon her father’s grave; and now that was removed, she was indeed happy.  She assured the rector how useful adversity had been to them—­how healthful it had rendered Mabel’s mind—­and how much better, if they recovered what had been lost, they should know how to employ their means of usefulness.  Mr. Lycight’s congratulations were not so hearty as Mr. Goulding’s; he felt that now he was the curate and Mabel the heiress; and he heard the kind good night which Mabel spoke with a tingling ear. He, was proud in his own way; and pride, as well as his affection, had been gratified by the idea of elevating her he loved.  Mabel saw this, and she wept during the sleepless night, that he should believe her so unworthy and so ungrateful.

There was much to think of and to do; the witnesses were to be found, and lawyers consulted, and proceedings taken, and much of the turmoil and bitterness of the law to be endured, which it pains every honest heart to think upon; and Mr. Cramp was seized with a sudden fit of virtuous indignation against Mr. Alfred Bond, after Sarah Bond’s new “man of business” had succeeded in producing the only one of the witnesses in existence, who, he also discovered, had been purposely kept out of the way, on a former occasion, by some one or other.  The delays were vexatious, and the quirks and turns, and foldings, and doubles innumerable; but they came to an end at last, and Mr. Alfred Bond was obliged in his turn to vacate the old mansion, in which he had revelled—­a miser in selfish pleasures.