Egbert had regained his strength to a great degree, and gave me the close of his narrative while we were having a pleasant drive through the country.  A month had passed since we first met, and though many of the passengers had been heard from, the names of Evelina and her father had not been reported.

When we reached our home, from our afternoon’s drive, I took up an evening paper, and the first paragraph I read was the following: 

“More from the white wing.-The Orion, which arrived at this port this morning, brought fifteen passengers, rescued from the boats of the ‘White Wing.’  Among the names mentioned in the above notice were these:  “Mrs. Evelina Lawrence and her father, of England;” and, at the conclusion, was the following item: 

“The case of Mrs. Lawrence and her father is one of those that loudly call for a bestowal of public sympathy and aid in her behalf.  She has lost a beloved husband,—­one who, judging from the heavy sorrow that oppresses her, and the sighs and tears that break her recital of the events of their last hours together, was bound with the closest bonds of soul affinity to her own spirit.  They must have been one, and are, indeed, one now, though to mortal eyes separated.  We commend her to the kind charities of those who would follow the golden rule of doing unto others as they, in like circumstances, would have others do unto them.”

Egbert noticed my interest in that which I was reading; indeed, it would have been strange if he had not; for I could not suppress my joy, and it found expression in an occasional exclamation.

At length, I handed him the paper.

“My God! my wife!” he exclaimed, and he actually danced with joy and thankfulness.  He would have rushed into the street, and by sudden exposure have caused a relapse of disease, had not I taken him by the hand, and forcibly, for a few moments, restrained him.  So excessive was his happiness that, for a short time, he was delirious with joy.  He laughed and wept by turns:  at one moment extending his arms, and folding them as if clasping a beloved form; the next, trembling as if in some fearful danger.  But this did not long continue.  He soon became calm and rational, and we called a carriage for the purpose of going to the vessel on board of which he expected to greet his wife and her father.

My neighbor Jenks accompanied us, and, as we rode hastily along, my mind reverted to the night when first I met Egbert.  That eventful evening came more vividly to mind as we found ourselves on the same wharf, and the carriage door was opened, and we alighted on nearly the same spot that we did at that time.