tock, and to go forth almost penniless into the world. Barely enough
remained to pay our passage to America. I was about to go with the rest
of my family, when one I had loved right well, an honest, steady youth,
entreated me to remain. He might soon have enough to wed. He had a
sick mother whom he could not leave, or he would have gone with us. If
I went we might never meet again. I consented to remain, so that I
could obtain service in which to support myself. A kind, good mistress
engaged me. She was more than kind, she was wise; not worldly wise, but
her wisdom was from above. She taught me that wisdom. By her means my
eyes were opened to things about which I before knew nothing. I saw
that God had dealt mercifully with me; that what I thought was a
misfortune was a blessing. I was thus led out of darkness into light.
I was happy, with a new happiness of which I before knew nothing. My
intended husband enjoyed it likewise; we both embraced the truth--my
only sorrow being that those who had gone away knew nothing of it.
Thomas lived at a distance, but whenever he could he came over to see
me. My kind, good mistress often spoke to him, and approved of my
choice. Time wore on. We waited to hear of those who had crossed the
sea. Sad tidings came at length. My mother had died on the voyage. My
father, heart-broken, and my sisters had landed and found a home, but
they missed her who had been their guide and their friend; and they
wanted me to go out and join them, and some cousins who lived a few
miles off from where I was at service, and Thomas also, if he would
marry me. I told my kind mistress.

"`If Thomas loves you, and will take you to that foreign land, I will
not say you nay,' was her reply.

"She gave me leave to go and deliver the message to my cousins, charging
me soon to return. My cousins were not averse to my sister's proposal,
and talked with pleasure of the many kindred who would meet in that
far-off settlement, for far off it seemed to them. On my return I found
the front door of my mistress's house closed. I went round and gained
an entrance through a window at the back. What was my horror to find
her bathed in blood, fallen from the arm-chair in which she sat before
the fire. I kneeled down to examine where she had been hurt, and was
about to raise her up when the door was burst open; some men rushed in;
I was seized. No one aided my dear mistress. A surgeon at length came.
H