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Long and patient efforts to restore her, at length produced the desired result. But it was many days before she seemed distinctly conscious of what was passing or would converse with any degree of coherency.

“Come and spend a few weeks with me, Cara.”

Mrs. Gray said to her, one day, on calling in to see her; “I am sure it will do you good.”

There was a sad, but grateful expression in the pale face of Mrs. Wilton, as she looked into the eye of her old friend, but ventured no reply.

“You will come, will you not, Cara?” urged Mrs. Gray.

“My presence in your happy family would be like the shadow of an evil wing,” said she bitterly.

“Our happy family, say-rather, would chase away the gloomy shadows that darken your heart. Come then, and we will give you a cheerful welcome.”

“I feel much inclined, and yet I hesitate, for I ought not to throw a gloom over your household,” and the tears filled her eyes, and glistened through the lids which were closed suddenly over them.

“Come, and welcome!” Mrs. Gray urged, taking her hand and gently pressing it.

That evening Mrs. Wilton spent in the pleasant family of her old friend.

Three weeks afterwards, Mrs. Gray asked of her husband, if anything had been heard of Mr. Wilton.

“Nothing,” he replied. “He has escaped all pursuit thus far, and the officers, completely at fault, have returned.”

“I cannot say that I am sorry, at least for the sake of his wife. She seems more cheerful since she came here. I feel sometimes as if I should like to offer her a home, for she has none, that might truly be so called.”

“Act up to your kind desire, Jane, if you think it right to do so,” said her husband. “Perhaps in no other home open to her could so much be done for her comfort.”

The home was accordingly offered, and tearfully accepted.

“Jane,” said the sad hearted woman, “I cannot tell you how much I have suffered in the last twenty years. How much from heart-sickening disappointments, and lacerated affections. High hopes and brilliant expectations that made my weak brain giddy to think of, have all ended thus. How weak and foolish–how mad we were! But my husband was not all to blame. I was as insane in my views of life as he. We lived only for ourselves–thought and cared only for ourselves–and here is the result. How wisely and well did you choose, Jane. Where my eye saw nothing to admire, yours more skilled, perceived the virgin ore of truth. I was dazzled by show, while you looked below the surface, and saw true character, and its effect in action. How signally has each of us been rewarded!” and the heart-stricken creature bowed her head and wept.

And now, kind reader, if there be one who has followed us thus far, are you disappointed in not meeting some startling denoument, or some effective point in this narrative. I hope not. Natural results have followed, in just order, the adoption of true and false principles of action–and thus will they ever follow. Learn, then, a lesson from the history of the two young men and the maidens of their choice. Let every young man remember, that all permanent success in life depends upon the adoption of such principles of action as are founded in honesty and truth; and let every young woman take it to heart, that all her married life will be affected by the principles which her husband sets down as rules of action. Let her give no consideration to his brilliant prospect, or his brilliant mind, if sound moral principles do not govern him.

“But what became of Charles Wilton and his wife?” I hear a bright-eyed maiden asking, as she turns half impatient from my homily.

Wilton has escaped justice thus far, and his wife, growing more and more cheerful every day, is still the inmate of Judge Gray’s family, and I trust will remain so until the end of her journeying here. And what is more, she is learning the secret, that there is more happiness in caring for others, than in being all absorbed in selfish consideration. Still, she is a sad wreck upon the stream of life–a warning beacon for your eyes, young lady.