to wed a cripple. It's your own doing. I've
told you now; I had made up my mind,
but I should have waited a bit before telling
you."

"Very well," said she, and she turned to
go away; but her wrath burst the floodgates,
and swept away discretion and forethought.
She moved and stood in the gateway.
Her lips parted, but no sound came; with an
hysterical motion she threw her arms suddenly
up to heaven, as if bringing down lightning
towards the grey old house to which she
pointed as they fell, and then she spoke:—

"The widow's child is unfriended. As
surely as the Saviour brought the son of a
widow from death to life, for her tears and
cries, so surely will God and His angels watch
over my Nest, and avenge her cruel wrongs."
She turned away weeping, and wringing her
hands.

Edward went in-doors; he had no more
desire to reckon his stores; he sat by the
fire, looking gloomily at the red ashes. He
might have been there half-an-hour or more,
when some one knocked at the door. He
would not speak. He wanted no one's
company. Another knock sharp and loud. He
did not speak. Then the visitor opened the
door; and, to his surprise—almost to his
affright—Eleanor Gwynn came in.

"I knew you were here. I knew you could
not go out into the clear, holy night, as if
nothing had happened. Oh! did I curse you?
If I did, I beg you to forgive me; and I will
try and ask the Almighty to bless you, if you
will but have a little mercy—a very little.
It will kill my Nest if she knows the truth
now—she is so very weak. Why, she cannot
feed herself, she is so low and feeble. You
would not wish to kill her, I think, Edward!"
She looked at him as if expecting an answer;
but he did not speak. She went down on her
knees on the flags by him.

"You will give me a little time, Edward, to
get her strong, won't you, now? I ask it on
my bended knees! Perhaps, if I promise
never to curse you again, you will come
sometimes to see her, till she is well enough to
know how all is over, and her heart's hopes
crushed. Only say you'll come for a month,
or so, as if you still loved her—the poor
cripple—forlorn of the world. I'll get her
strong, and not tax you long." Her tears fell
too fast for her to go on.

"Get up, Mrs. Gwynn," Edward said.
"Don't kneel to me. I have no objection to
come and see Nest, now and then, so that all
is clear between you and me. Poor thing!
I'm sorry, as it happens, she's so taken up
with the thought of me."

"It was likely, was not it? and you to have
been her husband before this time, if—Oh,
miserable me! to let my child go and dim
her bright life! But you'll forgive me, and
come sometimes, just for a little quarter of an
hour, once or twice a-week. Perhaps she'll
be asleep sometimes when you call, and then,
you know, you need not come in. If she
were not so ill, I'd never ask you."

So low and humble was the poor widow
brought, through her exceeding love for her
daughter.

CHIPS.

LIEUTENANT WAGHORN AND HIS WIDOW.

FACTS have come to our knowledge since
the publication of "The Life and Labours of
Lieutenant "Waghorn," * which tend very
much to absolve the Government and the
East India Company from the imputation of
not having duly rewarded Mr. Waghorn for
his services, nor adequately pensioned his
widow.

It appears, beyond all doubt, that besides
having been promoted to the rank of Lieutenant
in the Navy, solely for his energy in opening
the Overland Route (for Mr. Waghorn had
not been, during some time, actively employed
in Her Majesty's service), he received during
his career large sums, both from the Treasury
Board and from the East India Company. The
question of his disbursements in opening the
the Trieste route, was one for both these Boards.
His claim was six thousand pounds, but each
Board awarded to the Lieutenant no more
than two thousand pounds: four thousand
pounds were accordingly paid into his hands
for that special service. This disappointment
was not, however, without subsequent
compensation.

When the question of Lieutenan Waghorn's
general services was brought forward, the
Government proposed in Parliament a grant
of fifteen hundred pounds; expressing at the
same time a wish that the East India
Company would come forward with the like sum.
The Directors, however, preferred converting
the grant into a life annuity, and fixed it at
two hundred a year. Nor was this all. Mr.
Waghorn's name was afterwards placed on
the Civil List by order of the Queen, for two
hundred per annum. The state of the fund
was, however, such, that the pension could
not then (1848) be formally granted; but
in order that Lieutenant Waghorn should
sustain no loss from this circumstance, a
payment was made during the first year of two
hundred pounds out of the Royal Bounty.

The account, therefore, as between
Lieutenant Waghorn and the Ministry, and East
India Company, stood thus in 1849, when his
career unhappily closed:—Besides having been
paid four thousand pounds for disbursements
in opening the Trieste route, Lieutenant
Waghorn had obtained a gratuity of fifteen
hundred pounds, and a life pension of two hundred
a year, together with the first payment of
another life pension for the like amount.

We, in common with many of our
contemporaries, appear to have certainly overstated
(on authority we could not at that time doubt)

* Vol. 1, page 494.