Year: 1873

When the party was breaking up he came
and asked me if he should see me home. He
was very cool, and seemed only to mean that
he felt bound to make the offer, seeing he lad
brought me there. | was not going to accept
any such offer as that, and told him should
not require his attention.


Folly, he said, you DO not mean this.
Do not make me think that have mistaken
you !! He trembed as he spoke, and could
see that he was terribly agitated.
But had gone too far to give up then,
and with light laugh | turned from him. |
went home one wayne went another. All
the next day looked for him, but he did not
come. And second day | watched, and a
third, and fourth. On the fifth day | receiv-
ed letter from him. 1t was from distant
town, whittier he had gone to visit his widowed
mother. lie wrote me that he feared he had
been disappointed. 1t could trife with his
heart then might do it again. He said he
was going out West, and might be gone some
time. If still loved him when he returned I
might be sure OF finding him unmarried, for
he had no heart to give another. Still he
would like to hear from me-he would like to
see me if | wished it.


lie wrote as one who had been deeply
wronged and there were one or two sentences
in the misSive that touched me unpleasanty
A week passed away and did not answer it :;
but at the end of that time | made up nv
mind to call George to me and confess my
fault; for well knew had been wrong.
wrote-and my letter reached its destination
just twelve hours after he had started on his
journey.


{" never saw George Ashman again. In
less than year he died in a mad house"


He did wrong-he did wrong-yery, very
wrong-tO leave me as he did. He ought not
have done it. He ought to have made an effort
for his own Ike and mine, had done wicked
thing-a cruel, thoughtless deed it was-and
the penalty fell heavily upon me.


Louisa, your mother asked me to tell you
my story. l have done SO. Ifit can profit you
| shall not regret the pain have felt in the re
cital. That | have not ceased to suffer let
these hot, bitter tears bear witness. Oh, of all
things within the sphere of your influence, be-
ware how you trihe with trusting, loving
heart"


Silent and thoughtful did Louisa Burnet re-
turn to the parlor, and hut very little did she
say on her way h me. On the following morn
ing she wrote a REF note and sent it to Harry
Southron. She simply asked him to come and
see her. lie came, and when they were alone
she fell upon his bosom and asked him to for
give her. She gazed up through her streaming
tears, and begged for his love and confidence
once more. OF course he could not refuse.
Perhaps he was never happier than at that
moment, for surely it must have been mighty
love and a true devotion that could have
prompted the course the maiden had thus pur
sued


Louisa never forgot the lesson she had re-
ceived She became Henry Southron's vile,
and when, in after times, she saw husbands
neglecting their wives she had occasion to
thank God that she was blessed with the true
and undivided faith and devotion of her bosom
companion.


Surely there is nothing on earth of more
worth than faithful, virtuOus and devoted
life partner, and he or she who can trihe with
the heart of such a one only sows the seed
which shall yield a harvest OF pain and
remorse.