“Dear Jane,” said the good-natured brother, at once feeling his error, “pardon me, I was wrong; there is no resemblance in the cases—­I only wanted to raise your spirits.”

“True, William, true; I ought to thank you, and I do thank you.”

Whilst this little incident took place, Mr. Sinclair came over and sat beside Charles.

“You see, my dear Charles,” said he, “what a heavy task your separation from that poor girl is likely to prove.  Let me beg that you will be as firm as possible, and sustain her by a cheerful play of spirits, if you can command them.  Do violence to your! own heart for this day for her sake.”

“I will be firm, sir,” said Osborne, “if I can:  but if I fail—­if I—­look at her,” he proceeded, in a choking voice, “look at her, and then ask yourself why I—­I should be firm?”

Whilst he spoke, Jane came over, and seating herself between her father and him, said: 

“Papa, you will stay with me and Charles this day, and support us.  You know, papa, that I am but a weak, weak girl; but when I do a wrong thing, I feel very penitent—­I cannot rest.”

“You never did wrong, darling,” said Osborne, pressing his lips to her cheek, “you never did wrong.”

“Papa says I did not do much wrong; yet at one time I did not think so myself; but there is a thing presses upon me still.  Papa,” she added, turning abruptly to him, “are there not such things in this life as judgments from heaven?”

“Yes, my dear, upon the wicked who, by deep crimes, provoke the justice of the Almighty; but the ways of God are so mysterious, and the innocent so often suffer whilst the guilty escape, that we never almost hazard an opinion upon individual cases.”  “But there are cast-aways?” “Yes, darling; but here is Charles anxious to take you out to walk.  With such a prospect of happiness and affection before you both, you ought surely to be in the best of spirits.”

“Well, I can see why you evade my question,” she replied; but she added abruptly, “bless us, papa, bless us.”  She knelt down, and pulled Charles gently upon his knees also, and joining both hands together, bent her head as if to receive the benediction.

Oh, mournful and heart-breaking was her loveliness, as she knelt down before the streaming eyes of her family—­a Magdeline in beauty, without her guilt.

The old man, deeply moved by the distress of the interesting pair then bent before him, uttered a short prayer suitable to the occasion, after which he blessed them both, and again recommended them to the care of heaven, in terms of touching and beautiful simplicity.  His daughter seemed relieved by this, for, after rising, she went to her mother and said: 

“We are going to walk, mamma.  I must endeavor to keep my spirits up this day, for poor Charles’ sake.”

“Yes, love, do,” said her mother, “that’s a good girl.  Let me see how cheerful and sprightly you’ll be; and think, dear, of the happy days that are before you and Charles yet, when you’ll live in love and affection, surrounded and cherished by both your families.”