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In about three weeks, during which I put to the full test the hospitality of my new friends, I began to perceive on my entrance, a slight suppressed smile on their good-humour ed faces, and an increase of pensive gravity on that of their fair guest. The picture was quite finished-and I received unequivocal hints that it and the letters now only awaited my farewell visit. In a couple of days Alexina was to retire to her nunnery, and as she now studiously avoided our earlier téte-u-téte, I had no resource but to write her a letter, explaining the state of my heart, and urging the soldier's plea of necessity for my precipitation-and requesting to be permitted to receive my answer in person on the morrow. I cannot pretend to remember what was in the letter-I only know that the paper was not gilt, and the lines by no means particularly even.

On the following morning I sallied from my hotel, far earlier than decency warranted for paying a visit in Baker Street-so I determined to divert the intolerable suspense by transacting some business about Charing Cross. This occupied me so much longer than I expected, that I was flying in all the agonies of impatience along the Hay-market, when I ran against a young Lieutenant of my late regiment, a very fine lad, for whom I had always had a great fancy, and who, being equally partial to me, had, I knew, been using every exertion to raise the needful, to purchase a step in the regiment I was now about to command.

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Percival, my dear fellow!" said I," how goes it? I have not a moment to spare-urgent business, a thousand miles off, at the very west end of the town." I saw his countenance fall, poor lad, and could not help observing he looked pale and vexed. "Is anything the matter, Henry?" asked I, still in a great hurry.

"Oh, not much, Colonel," said he. "I see you are in haste-only -only" and here he hesitated.

"Speak out, Harry: do; there's a good fellow."

"Only some little difficulty, then, about the money for my step. I fear I shall not be able to get out with you—”

"Oh! is that all ?-Come to me to-morrow about it, and I will see what can be done."

"But," said the young man, modestly, "the money should have been lodged some days ago; and Greenwood says he can wait no longer."

I looked at the lad, and saw his whole soul was in the affair. And thinking my suit would not prosper the less for lending him a lift, I performed one of the few actions I call heroic, and turning back with the best grace I could muster, put my arm in his, and went into Drummond's.

While I was waiting to speak to one of the partners about an iminediate advance of the needful to poor Harry, I saw a clerk twisting in every possible light, and trying to decipher one of those nondescript foreign letters, which are to well-grown, well-folded English ones, what misshapen dwarfs are to men. This one was as broad as it was long, and had its hump-back all covered with characters, which might have been Runic inscriptions, for any resemblance they bore to a Christian A. B. C. The man, seeing a curious idler lounging near him in a military surtout, handed it up to me, saying, "Perhaps, sir, you might be able, from your knowledge of foreign hands, to throw some light on this direction." There was an outer envelope, on which might be plainly enough read, in a cramped chevaux de frise-like French hand, this somewhat primitive address,

à Monsieur Monsieur Drummond, Banquier très rénommé, à Londres. So far all was well; and the renowned banker being about as well known in London as Dr. Boerhaave in the world, both letters had found their appointed destination. But within

the envelope was a sealed billet, scribbled all over, as aforesaid, with characters which, from their dissimilarity to any European scrawl I had ever seen, I immediately set down for Tartar hieroglyphics from Russia, which mighty empire having pertinaciously retained a style of its own, chooses to have an alphabet also.

The words expressed by these hyperborean symbols, I began to perceive were French; and gathering erudition as I proceeded, like many a sage decipherer, I distinctly traced, "à son Excellence Mademoiselle ;" -but beyond this rather anomalous union of titles, all was involved in the hopeless darkness that attends guessers at proper names. I had lately, however, seen some Russian coins, bought by a brother officer of a French soldier returned from Moscow, and the characters composing the word "Alexander" happened to be fresh in my memory. With this clew, I put together pot-hook after pot-hook, and found, with no small emotion, the result to be-Alexina! The name might be, nay, was, a common one in Russia, especially of late years, yet I could not spell and put it together without feeling a revulsion in my whole frame, and as if it could belong but to one being in the world. How did I labour to apply my scanty stock of Russian lore to this unspeakably important surname which succeeded! but in vain! That it began with F was all I could satisfactorily ascertain; but the clerk and I between us, were enabled, by his naming over various eminent Russia merchants, to hazard a shrewd guess at the one to whose care the inner letter had been so mystically addressed.

This gentleman, the clerk told me, was no more, and had died deeply involved in circumstances exactly coinciding with Sophy's account of Alexina's guardian. The case now became terribly critical, and I was just about to suggest what I knew on the subject, when a partner came in, accompanied by a feeble tottering old man, with the air of one of those

respectable, almost dignified-looking valets, or Maitre d'Hotels, belonging to the old regime; his hair queued and powdered, and his dress scrupalously adhering to a fashion unknown in England for the last half century.

“ Mr. B————," said the banker, addressing himself to the clerk, "has anything been made out about that letter which came some weeks ago from abroad? This person is just arrived in England, and looks to us for a clew to discover a young lady, to whom, he says, his previous letter was addressed."

"Sir," said the clerk, in some confusion, "the letter was unfortunately laid aside till this morning, when, with the assistance of this gentleman, I have just succeeded in ascertaining the name of the house to whose care the billet is addressed. It is to be feared, however, that this will not greatly advance matters, as Mr. Livingstone, you are aware, died some years ago, and his establishment is entirely broken up."

"That is very unlucky," said the banker to the clerk; while the old man, only gathering from the blank looks of both a result unfavourable to his hopes, cast up his eyes to Heaven, with an affecting mixture of sorrow and resignation. "My poor master!" ejaculated he, in French, and turned away to hide a tear.

"But, sir," said the clerk, "we have made out the young lady's christian name, and this gentleman seems to think

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"And is the surname all that puzzles you?" asked Mr. D. “Surely that can be at once supplied by this good old man."

The question was put in French, and promptly answered-" Fedoroff

only daughter of my master, Count Fedoroff, and an English lady, his late wife."

What a revolution did these few words make in my relative situation with Alexina! I felt as if all was for ever at an end between us-but, I hope, not the less disposed to for ward the inquiries of a sorrowing parent, and restore her to his arms.

I briefly, and, I am sure, very incoherently, stated what I knew of her history and residence; and while the transported old steward flew on the wings of duty and affection to cheer his master's heart with the tidings, I set off, summoning all the courage aud disinterestedness I could muster, to prepare the mind of his daughter for so overwhelming a discovery-to build up-I feared, on the ruins of my own baseless fabric of happiness the superstructure of hers.

This daughter, the long-lost and wept-for heiress of Count Fedoroff, to marry a moderately endowed English soldier! to go to the West Indies, or elsewhere, and, as the old song has it," lie in a barrack!" Impossible!-Once I was selfish enough to wish the knot had been already tiedbut I was soon myself again, and could rejoice that no answer had yet in any degree committed her, to unite ber fate with mine-and, on the word of an honest man, by the time I knocked at the door in Baker Street, I felt only the delight of conferring happiness, where I had so fondly anticipated receiving it.

My air of conscious exultation when first ushered into the room, where sat Alexina with her friend, Mrs. F――, must, I am sure, have appeared to the last degree coxcombical and absurd. It soon gave place to more selfish and bitter feelings, on beholding again, (and with no symptoms of severity on her lovely countenance,) the creature I was about tacitly to relinquish for life. Mrs. F. rose to leave the room; and, though fearful the emotion I should excite might render her presence desirable, I could not, for the life of me, interfere to detain her.

"I fear, Mrs. Montolieu," said I, in great agitation, "I am much later than you might justly have had reason to expect, but the business which detained me was of a nature- ""

"Oh! no apology is necessary, Colonel Donovan," said she, with the unaffected modesty and gentleness which characterized her whole deportment. "I must have little 34 ATHENEUM, VOL. 9, 2d series.

confidence indeed in the flattering sentiments expressed in your letter of yesterday, to suppose you would voluntarily defer ascertaining mine. I can only assure you"

"Assure me of nothing, my dear madam," interrupted I, "if you would have me keep my senses, and go through my duty as a man of honour should do. Forget that anything has passed between us-that I ever had the presumption to aspire to your hand,"

I really believe this humble, longdepressed child of misfortune, thought me suddenly deranged, so like bitter mockery did my expressions appear.

"I am not mad, indeed," said I, reading her thoughts," though I have had much to make me so this morning; but only the bewildered herald of a very astonishing, and, let me add, delightful discovery, relative to yourself-"

"To me!" she repeated with an accent of unbounded surprise-" I thought, till yesterday, nothing could occur to break the tenor of my monotonous existence."-Here a soft blush tinged her pale cheek-and it went to my very heart to see, that the sweet soul was mortified by my want of curiosity to know how she had felt yesterday, and was feeling to-day.

"Alexina!" said I, for the first time in my life feeling the brotherly right so to call her-" if I could avail myself of your unsuspecting_innocence, I should be a villain. Yesterday you thought yourself, and I thought you, alone in the world; and on that supposition, what we might both have done is now as if it had never been. You are no longerthanks be to a merciful Providence! -a friendless orphan. You have a father, the sole comfort of whose declining age is the vague, and, till this day, almost relinquished hope of folding you once more in his arms."

She grew very pale-trembled violently, but, to my infinite relief, did not faint quite away. There was water on the table beside her drawings-I sprinkled some of it on her

face, and she soon revived; for the swoon of joy carries its own cordial with it.

When the pious effusions of a full heart to the Father of the fatherless, had given place to less sacred emotions, her first words were, "You will assist me in making up to this dear father, for our long, long separation, will you not ?-But perhaps," added she, more gravely-the pride of women taking alarm at my continued silence "perhaps there is something in my father's character or circumstances, which may have produced a change in your intentionsIf so-" and her blush was no longer one of conscious timidity.

"There is, indeed, everything in your father's situation to make me retract my rash proposal of yesterday! When it was made, I felt a lover's exquisite sympathy for beauty in misfortune; and a pride in placing competence at least within her reach. You are the daughter and heiress of a proud Russian noble; and Jack Donovan has only to say, God bless you both together!' and try to forget his short dream of happiness amid a life of duty and vicissitude."

"I, too, have duties, Colonel Donovan," answered she, her calm serenity not in the least impaired by the brilliant prospect I had set before her; "that, to my father, I trust I shall never forget; and oh! what delightful arrears of love I shall have to bestow on (I fear from your sad silence) my sole remaining parent! But circumstances, melancholy enough, God knows! have given me early independence; and I should deserve to be spurned by my new found parent, could his rank or fortune for one moment make me forget your conduct when I had neither. Read that note, which, in distrust of my nerves for a personal interview, I wrote last night, to be delivered to you this morning. The sentiments it contains might have gathered added strength and energy from what I have now heard of our relative position; but I wish you to see them as they emanated from the unconscious ful

ness of a grateful heart. Take them as my unalterable answer. Were my father capable of sacrificing his child's honour and happiness to pride or ambition, I might tearfully request you to lend her to him for the remnant of a closing existence; but it would be to return, strengthened by filial duty, to other, and perhaps dearer ties. Donovan! I am yours irrevocably,— bear me witness, my vows are sealed before their confirmation can poss.bly expose me to the charge of disobedience!"

I had only time for incoherent expressions of admiration for this noble girl, and resolution to abide by her father's determination, when, as I had arranged with Nicolai the old steward, a carriage drove up to the door, out of which I saw him step first, and proffer his assistance to a fine noblelooking wreck of a man, who, enfeebled by infirmity and emotion, could scarcely ascend the staircase. I went to detain him a moment below, whie I in two words explained the matter to Mrs. F——, and to my sister Sophy, who, burning to know the result of my proposals, had invited herself to spend the day in Baker Street.

Their sudden acquaintance with these delightful tidings gave to both of them an appearance of such equal agitation with their fair friend's, that nothing short of parental instinct could have enabled him to distinguish her. When the fine old man entered, his white hair flowing on either side of his woe-worn countenance, all involuntarily rose. He seemed bewildered by the presence of so many females, and in danger of sinking under the scene. Sophy, who happened to be nearest the door, having made a hasty movement to save him from falling, he gazed for a moment steadfastly in her face, then shook his head, and, pushing her not ungently aside, made another step or two forward. It was to receive in his arms and heart, his own Alexina, whom, in the first transports of recognition, he called by the name of her long-lost English mother. We left the parent and child to their own

unutterable emotions, and indemnified ourselves by sharing the transports of old Nicolai, who, after kissing with passionate devotion the hand of his master's daughter, withdrew, and gave us the details of their loug separation and its cause.

They were much too long and complicated to be repeated here. Suffice it to say, that the capricious tyranny of Paul, and his wayward antipathy to everything even remotely connected with England, involved Count Fedoroff in sudden and apparently hopeless disgrace,-and a banishment to Siberia; amid the first shock of which, the unfortunate mother, before accompanying her husband, embraced with avidity the opportunity afforded by the hurried flight of her countrymen from Petersburg, to send her only child, a puny, tender infant, wholly unfit for the horror of a Siberian journey, to seek an asylum in England. Au ample supply of money and jewels, sufficient to defray her education for years, accompanied the infant; but as the whole transaction (the affair of a few brief feverish moments of maternal alarm) was conducted by Madame Fedoroff after her husband's arrest, and while deprived of communication with him, the distressing circumstances of their reunion prevented his being immediately informed of the name of the merchant to whom his child was to be consigned-and before he roused himself to make the, alas! indispensable inquiry, his poor wife's reason had given way under the united evils of exile and bereavement. For years after his recall from banishment, did Count Fedoroff wander with his harmless and interesting maniac, in vain quest alike of restored intellect, and tidings of their child. Not the slightest clew or trace could ever be elicited from the poor Countess, till, on her death-bed, a few months ago, she had, in such a lucid interval as frequently precedes dissolution, distinctly pronounced, in the hearing of Nicolai, the name of Livingstone, connecting it, though incoherently, with that of Alexina.

The judicious old man, fearing to raise, on such slender ground, false hopes in his aged and grief-worn master, wrote, without communicating his intentions to any one, the mysterious billet which it was my fate to decipher; but after waiting for some time its result, in intolerable suspense, he heard with delight the poor Count resolve on a voyage to England, and felt renewed hope in the purpose of personal investigations.

Their result has been already mentioned, and it only remains for me to tell, in a few words, the brief sequel of my soldier's tale. Count Fedoroff had seen too much of the power of sorrow to rob the eye of meaning, and the cheek of bloom, to allow its worm to prey twice upon a daughter's heart. Had a peasant gained her affection in her days of friendless obscurity, I verily believe the chastened spirit of the good old man would have hailed him with grateful approbation. He was not, therefore, disposed to exclude from his heart, a soldier of ancient family and unblemished reputation. When I next saw Alexina's letter of acceptance, which, precious as it was, I had insisted on replacing, before her father's entrance, in her almost insensible hand, it bore, in addition to her dear signature, the trembling ratification of a parent.

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What a contrast between Alexina's former nuptials, with their extorted consent, and half-reluctant celebration, their "cold marriage tables," meats,' "funeral-baked and strangely interwoven, and our blissful union some months after, surrounded by friends, purchased and endeared by years of dignified suffering!

There was the old Count, his frame invigorated, and his affections renovated-his faithful domestic reflecting his master's every feeling, and partaking his every joy. F. and his kind-hearted wife-my darling Sophy-and last, not least, Lucy and her husband-for, as the picture could no longer go to the West In

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