 ashamed of his conduct in relation to Charles, that he should never have forgiven himself if it had not convinced him, at the same time, of his valuable friend's unparalleled virtue: that it was the very fire out of which that virtue came pure from the trial.
Charles, who endeavoured in vain to prevent this declaration, had nothing for it but to palliate the blame Sir Sidney had so handsomely thrown on himself. He said, under such delusive influence, it was impossible but he must have fallen in with the opinion of others; for that the very goodness of his heart would naturally incline him to credit so many well confirmed circumstances. It was the business of those who had attempted his downfal to stick at nothing. They had their private motives, of which it was impossible he should see the extent; nay, as their villanies involved so many important circumstances, a nice investigation of which was necessary to effect their detection, it was extremely difficult, as well as dangerous, for a friend, though ever so zealous, to offer any thing in his defence; while, on his side, conscious of the integrity of his

own motives, Sir Sidney must ultimately have condemned him as deficient in every delicate feeling if he appeared forward to deprecate anger which he had neither provoked nor merited.
He said much more to this purpose, and concluded with entreating Sir Sidney to believe that could he have satisfied his own susceptibility, there was no moment during the whole time he had the misfortune to labour under his ill opinion, that he would not have gone any length to have effected a reconciliation. That reconciliation was now, he thanked God, complete, without any conduct derogatory to the honour of either, and it should be the business of his life to preserve so valuable a friendship uninterrupted.
Lady Roebuck received Charles as the son of her deceased friend. She found him just what she wished, but not more than she expected. She thanked heaven that so perfect a good understanding had happily taken place, and declared, except a tinge of unhappiness at the situation of Annette, she had not now another wish to gratify.
Emma did no more than receive her king, and render him her allegiance. She told him he was

welcome; welcome as the rain to MARCUS AURELIUS; though, like that, he came a little of the latest: but that it was not a time to talk, for, like that general she had mentioned,
"now they were refreshed, they had yet a battle to gain."

A consultation on the measures necessary to be taken was now
