“I am very glad she persevered in her secret,” said Mr. Howard, warmly; “it is this quiet steady perseverance in a painful duty that has pleased me far more than even the action itself, guided as that was by proper feeling.  Extraordinary sacrifices of our own formation are not, in general, as acceptable to Him for whose sake they are ostentatiously made, as the quiet steady discharge of our destined duties—­the one is apt to beget pride, the other true humility, but this unshaken resolution in one so young, had its origin from true repentance, and aided as it has been by the active fulfilment of every duty, strengthened as it has, no doubt, been by prayer, I cannot but trust her heavenly Master will look down with an eye of mercy on His young servant.  Look up, Edward; you, too, have done your duty.  Why should your sister’s conduct cause this sudden depression, my young friend?”

“Because,” exclaimed he, with an earnestness almost startling, and as he looked up his eyes glistened with tears, “because all my efforts sink to nothing beside hers.  I deemed myself becoming worthy; that the conquests over inclination I made would obliterate the past; but what are my sacrifices compared to hers?  Weak, frail, sensitive creature as she is, thus secretly, laboriously to earn that sum which, because it required one or two petty sacrifices of inclination, I deemed that I had so nobly gained.  What have been my efforts compared to hers?”

“Almost as great to you, my dear boy, as hers were to her,” said Mr. Hamilton, kindly; “you, too, have done well.  Your past errors have already, in my mind and in that of Mr. Howard and your aunt’s, been obliterated by the pleasure your late conduct has bestowed.  She has not had the temptations to extravagant pleasure which have been yours; to save this sum you must have resigned much gratification.  You have acted thus excellently, in part, to regain the good opinion of your friends, and the kind wish of restoring perfect peace to your sister:  in the first, you have fully succeeded; in the second, when your sister knows what has been the secret purpose of your life for three long years, her affections will amply repay you.  You are deserving of each other, my dear Edward; and this moment I do not scruple to say, I am proud to feel myself so nearly related to those who, young as they both are, have so nobly and perseveringly performed their duty both to God and man.”

Young Fortescue raised his uncle’s hand, wrung it between both his own, and impetuously darted from the room.

“That boy would teach me never to despair again, my good friend,” said Mr. Hamilton, addressing the worthy clergyman.  “When last he left me I had learned to hope and yet to fear, for I dreaded his exposure to his former temptations; and now—­glad, indeed, am I to acknowledge myself vanquished, and to own you were ever in the right.”

Mr. Howard smiled.

“And now does my husband regret his having adopted my sister’s orphans as his own?” demanded Mrs. Hamilton, entwining her arm in her husband’s, and looking caressingly in his face.