“We have mourned you as one long since departed, but a gracious Providence has surely miraculously restored you again to your home, and your deeply sorrowing friends.”

“Mine has, indeed, been a miraculous preservation, and one which demands the most grateful acknowledgment of my heart.”

“I trust to have the pleasure of listening to its details, by and bye, and in joining with you in praising Him, who has so graciously given you back to us all.  But I must not forget that you are, I am sure, very anxious to see your uncle.”

“I am, indeed,” was the reply.  “Is he dangerously ill?” she earnestly inquired.  “The man told me, he believed my aunt was out, but would go and ascertain.”

“Mrs. Denham went out two hours ago, to visit a sick neighbor, and has not yet returned.  Your uncle has, indeed, been very ill, and is still quite an invalid; but it has all originated in sorrow for your loss, and remorse at having been the chief instrument in sending you away.  You will find him wonderfully changed,” added Arthur, with kind consideration; for, fully aware of the circumstances under which she had left home, he knew she must feel anxiety respecting the terms on which, it was probable, she would be permitted to remain with her relatives.

“It was only this evening, he was lamenting his loss, and declaiming, in bitterest terms, against his former conduct, declaring, that, unless the sea restored his darling to him, his gray hairs would go down with sorrow to the grave.”

Agnes wept tears of joy at this intelligence, but recovering herself, and recollecting Mr. Clifford, who had accompanied her from the vessel, and who, seated at the farthest end of the apartment, and partly in the shade, had, on that account, escaped Arthur’s glance, she said,

“I have been very remiss, indeed, Mr. Clifford.”

Arthur started, as she pronounced the name, and turning round, for the first time beheld the stranger.

“But you will excuse me, I am sure; for this return home, and the meeting with an old friend, has quite bewildered me.  Allow me, Mr. Bernard to introduce to you my companion on the voyage, and one who like myself, has known the privations of exile, though for a much longer period than I.”

Mr. Clifford advanced to Arthur, and the young men shook hands heartily.

“There needed no apology, Miss Wiltshire,” said Ernest; “for your emotion, at returning home again, is only natural.  It has afforded me, I assure you, the purest pleasure to witness it; a foretaste of what I trust myself to experience, when I embrace my mother again; if, indeed, she be yet in the land of the living.”

“And now,” said Arthur, “you will excuse me, while I go and prepare Mr. Denham for this interview with his long-lost niece, for it would not be prudent,” he said, turning to Agnes, “for you suddenly to surprise him.  I am afraid it would be too much for him in his present weak state.”