had
sacrificed his honour for her, sacrificed her also as lightly for
another. She could not bear his infidelity; and how could she reproach
him? In the very act of yielding to, she had become unworthy of, his
love. She did not reproach him--she died of a broken heart! I saw her
just before her death, for I was distantly related to her, and I could
not forsake her utterly even in her sin. She then spoke to me only of
the child by her former marriage, whom she had left in the years when
it most needed her care: she questioned me of its health--its
education--its very growth: the minutest thing was not beneath her
inquiry. His tidings were all that brought back to her mind 'the
redolence of joy and spring.' I brought that child to her one day: he
at least had never forgotten her. How bitterly both wept when they were
separated! and she--poor, poor Ellen--an hour after their separation
was no more!" There was a pause for a few minutes. Emily was deeply
affected. Mrs. St. John had anticipated the effect she had produced,
and concerted the method to increase it. "It is singular," she resumed,
"that, the evening before her elopement, some verses were sent to her
anonymously--I do not think, Emily, that you have ever seen them. Shall
I sing them to you now?" and, without waiting for a reply, she placed
herself at the piano; and with a low but sweet voice, greatly aided
in effect by the extreme feeling of her manner, she sang the following
verses:

1.
And wilt thou leave that happy home,
Where once it was so sweet to live?
Ah! think, before thou seek'st to roam,
What safer shelter Guilt can give!

2.
The Bird may rove, and still regain
With spotless wings, her wonted rest,
But home, once lost, is ne'er again
Restored to Woman's erring breast!

3.
If wandering o'er a world of flowers,
The heart at times would ask repose;
But thou wouldst lose the only bowers
Of rest amid a world of woes.

4.
Recall thy youth's unsullied vow
The past which on thee smile so fair;
Then turn from thence to picture now
The frowns thy future fate must wear!

5.
No hour, no hope, can bring relief
To her who hides a blighted name;
For hearts unbow'd by stormiest _grief_
Will break beneath one breeze of _shame_!

6.
And whe