ishment, the form of Primrose is ever before me, and seems to say, 'I died because I loved you.'" His father said a blameless life could alone repair his past errors.
The next day we sailed for England, after giving presents to the Paroubas. Tears mingled with our adieus, and Birton, who had been only giddy, already seemed a reasonable person.
When we were out at sea Freind said to John, in my presence: "Do you still cherish the memory of the amiable Primrose?" These words so wrung the heart of the young man that I feared he would throw himself into the sea.
"Console yourself, then," said Freind. "Miss Primrose is alive, and loves you still."
Freind had received certain information on this subject from his servant, who had written to him punctually by every ship. Mr. Mead, who has since acquired so great a reputation by his skill in the counteraction of poisons, had saved the young lady's life. In a moment John passed from despair to extreme joy. I will not attempt to describe the change. It was the happiest moment of his life. Birton and his friends shared his joy. What more shall I say? The worthy Freind was as a father to all. The wedding was celebrated at Dr. Mead's. Birton, now another man, also married, and he and John are now among the best people in England.
Admit that a wise man can instruct fools.
