“Oh! sir, do not speak so!  Dear papa, I have tried hard to do you no harm, and to behave well.  Please, sir, give me your blessing.”

“God bless you indeed, my child.  He has blessed you in guarding you as your innocence deserved, though I did not.  Ah! others are impatient.  The poor old father comes second now.”

After a few minutes spent in repairing the disorder of her dress, and her hands in those of her father and little brother, she was led to the outer room where in the twilight there was a rapturous rush, an embrace, a fondling of the hand in the manner more familiar to her than the figure from before whom it proceeded.  She only said in her gentle plaintive tone, “Oh, sir, it was not my fault.  They took away your rings.”

“Nay,” said a voice, new to her, “here are your rings, Lady Belamour.  I must trust to your Christian charity to pardon her who caused you to be stripped of them.”

The name of Lady Belamour made her start as that of her enemy, but a truly familiar tone said, “You need not fear, my kind friend.  This is Mr. Wayland, who, to our great joy, has returned, and has come to restore your jewels.”

“Indeed I am very glad yours is not lost,” said Aurelia, not a little bewildered.

Mr. Wayland said a few words of explanation that his wife’s agent at Greenwich had brought them back to her.

“Pray let me have them,” entreated Sir Amyas; “I must put them on again!”

“Stay,” said Major Delavie; “I can have such things done only under true colours and in the full light of day.  The child is scarcely awake yet, and does not know one from the other!  Why neither of you so much as know the colour of the eyes of the other!  Can you tell me sir?”

“Heavenly,” exclaimed the youth, in an ecstatic tone of self-defence, which set the Major laughing and saying, “My silly maid knows as little which gentleman put on the ring.”

“I do, sir,” said Aurelia indignantly; “I know his voice and hand quite well,” and in the impulse she quitted her father’s arm and put both hands into those of her young adorer, saying, “Pray sir, pardon me, I never thought to hurt you so cruelly.”

There was a cry of, “My own, my dearest life,” and she was clasped as she had been immediately after her strange wedding.

However, the sound of a servant’s step made them separate instantly, and Betty begged that the supper might not be removed, since it was many hours since her sister had tasted food.

Sir Amyas and Betty hovered about her, giving her whatever she could need, in the partial light, while the others stood apart, exchanging such explanations as they could.  Mr. Wayland said he must report himself to Government on the morrow; but intended afterwards to take his wife to Bowstead, whither she had sent all her children with Mrs. Dove.  There was a great tenderness in his tone as he spoke of her, and when he took leave Mr. Belamour shrugged his shoulders saying, “She will come round him again!”