her from the net into which they had enticed her.  When afterwards he learned that it was through the mediation of James Temple that his sister had been provided for, the truth burst instantly upon him, and he foresaw at once all that actually took place.  He vowed that he would become himself the avenger of his sister, and that he would not let her betrayer sleep until he had wrung from him deep atonement for his crime.  It was in vain that Mrs Wybrow sought to convince him of his delusion.  He would not be advised—­he would not listen—­he would not linger another moment in the house, but quitted it, wrought to the highest pitch of rage, and speaking only of vengeance on the seducer.  He set out for London.  Mrs Wybrow, agitated more than she had been at any time since her birth, and herself almost deprived of reason by her fears for the safety of Miss Harrington, James Temple, and the furious lunatic himself, wrote immediately to Emma, then resident in Cambridge, explaining the sad condition of her brother, and warning her of his approach—­Emma having already (without acquainting Mrs Wybrow with her fallen state) forwarded her address, with a strict injunction to her humble friend to convey to her all information of her absent brother which she could possibly obtain.  The threatened danger was communicated to the lover—­darkened his days for a time with anxiety and dread, but ceased as time wore on, and as no visitant appeared to affect the easy tenor of his immoral life.  The reader will not have forgotten, perhaps, that when for the first time I beheld James Temple, he was accompanied by an elder brother.  It was from the latter, his friend and confidant, that the above particulars, and those which follow in respect of the deceased, were gathered.  The house in which, for a second time, I encountered my ancient college friends, was their uncle’s.  Parents they had none.  Of father and of mother both they had been deprived in infancy; and, from that period, their home had been with their relative and guardian.  The conduct of one charge, at least, had been from boyhood such as to cause the greatest pain to him who had assumed a parent’s cares.  Hypocrisy, sensuality, and—­for his years and social station—­unparalleled dishonesty, had characterised James Temple’s short career.  By some inexplicable tortuosity of mind, with every natural endowment, with every acquired advantage, graced with the borrowed as well as native ornaments of humanity, he found no joy in his inheritance, but sacrificed it all, and crawled through life a gross and earthy man.  The seduction of Emma, young as he was when he committed that offence, was, by many, not the first crime for which—­not, thank Heaven! without some preparation for his trial—­he was called suddenly to answer.  As a boy, he had grown aged is vice.  It has been stated that he quitted the university the very instant he disencumbered himself of the girl whom he had sacrificed.  He crept to the metropolis, and for a time there hid himself.