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THE LAST NIGHT OF THE OLD YEAR. 423 efforts were in vain. After months of painful suspense, he gave up the search in despair, and went abroad; and the next heard of him was that he was serving in the India mutiny, and had been last seen at the siege of Delhi. Then he was missed, and it was believed he was dead.

Meantime, at Shafton Castle, there was grief, and mourning. Lady Shafton still believed in Elsie’s guilt, but she mourned her son's desertion, and she would not be comforted. The Lady Alice had returned home. The mischief worked by her had been greater than she intended; but she did not regret it: the accusation had not been hatched merely for revenge; it was one she firmly believed to be true; and so, indeed, did evershody, until more than two years after Percy’s disappearance.

It was while the Lady Alice was on n visit to Shafton Cuatle, that she was sitting with Lady Shafton in the western poreh, one summer day. They were not far from the oriel-window, which looked out from the dressing-room of the mistress of tle castle. A thunder-storm had come up suddenly, and the ladies, somewhat alarmed by the rapid peals, had risen to go in, when a bolt struck right in front of them, blasting and splitting a giant oak on the lawn. The vast fabric fell directly toward them, and as it fell, a raven's nest, that had stood for years in its topmost branches, was shot forward almost to their feet. The startled rooks flew off in every direction. But Lady Shafton, who had, at first, sprung back in wild terror, suddenly darted forward, for there, rolling toward her, over the hard road below, was the lost topaz ring.

‘Oh! my son, my son!” she cried. “Oh, Elsie! See, Lady Alice, we were both mistaken. The rooks must have carried it off through my open window. God forgive you and me!”

From that day, the search for Elsie was renewed, and went on simultaneously with inquiries for Percy. At last, Elsie’s hiding-place was discovered, and thither Lady Shafton went herself by the next train. The poor child was living, as a nursery governess, in a remote corner of Cornwall, and little expected to see Lady Shafton, when called so unexpectedly from her young charges. The sincere repentance, but more than alt the failing health and hopeless grief of her old mistress, moved Elsie to such a degree, that she coud not refuse to accompany Lady Shafton home. In that burst of passionate grief, as she fell on the mother’s heart, all was forgotten and forgiven. From that day the two had never been parted, but lived together as mother and daughter. ‘If ever Percy comes back,” Lady Shafton would say, as she leaned, weeping, on Elsie’s shoulders, “you will be my daughter, in name, as well as in reality. Oh! to think you have forgiven me.”

Lady Alice was no longer seen at Shafton Castle. She was still unmarried, and probably would always remain so. Though compelled to admit that Elsie was innocent, she nevertheless hated her rival as only such natures can hate. Lady Shafton had no desire to see Lady Alice. She traced her son’s absence, now that — she knew all, to Lady Alice’s interposition; and the proud heiress had become as distasteful to her’as Elsie had been before.

Meantime no word came from Percy. Letters had been written by his mother to every possible point where he could be looked for, and agents were dispatched to India to search for information; but all to no purpose. - A year had nearly passed since Elsie had returned to Shafton Castle. The broken-hearted mother, accusing herself of her boy’s death, was going slowly, but surely, down to the grave. Elsie, herself, had given up all hope, but, with the unselfishness of her nature, thought only of Lady Shafton’s sorrow. Tonight, the last of the old year, the poor mother was utterly prostrated. In vain Elsie sought to distract her grief. Lady Shafton went from room to room, wringing her hands, and talking of the boyhood of Percy, and especially of the Christmas and New-Year’s festivities, which had always been kept up in his honor. ‘Never, never again shall I see him!” she cried, weeping. At last, she could not contain herself in the inhabited parts of the castle, but insisted on going to the ruined window overlooking the grave-yard, where we left her and Elsie. Poor Elsie! her own heart was well-nigh breaking: sad memories were at work with her also; but she put her own troubles out of sight, and devoted herself only to her companion.

“Do not ask me,” said Lady Shafton, continuing the conversation. “If I could die here, I might be happy. Would that the New-Year might find me still and cold, like Percy.”

“Hush! What is that?” cried Elsie, suddenly. “Surely I heard a gate-latch clicking. Yes! somebody is coming into the grave-yard, as if from the rectory behind the church. Can it be—can it—— Oh! dear Lady Shafton, don’t you know——”

Slowly and feebly, leaning on a stick, with a slouched hat and a heavy cloak, more like an old man tottering on the brink of the grave than a youth just arriving at mature years, the person she pointed at came on. The wind blew �