averson to feel little at ease in this
city. Some months afterwards he removed to the South with his wife,
much against the wishes of her friends. Harriet did not want to go,
but she could do no less than accompany her husband.

"Some three years afterwards, it was whispered about that Harriet
had left her husband and returned home to her father; but that the
matter was kept very quiet, and that she had not been seen by any of
her old friends. It was said, that after living some time at the
South, Mr. Eaverson grew indifferent towards his wife. A virtuous
woman, she could not but be deeply shocked on discovering her
husband's want of virtue. This she could not conceal; and its
appearance was a standing reproof and condemnation of his principles
and conduct. No bad man could endure this. Its effect would be
certain estrangement. From dislike towards his wife, his feelings
gradually deepened into hatred. Open abuse soon followed neglect;
when she fled from him, with two young children, and sought the
protection of her father's house.

"It was nearly a year after Harriet's return, before I saw her. I
could hardly believe, when I did meet her and grasp her hand, that
the pale, dejected, care-worn being who stood before me was the same
with the light-hearted, beautiful, gay young girl I had known but a
few years back. Alas! how surely does pain of mind forestall the
work of time!

"A few days after this meeting, which made me sad for weeks, I spent
an afternoon and evening with Mrs. Williamson, formerly Sarah
Corbin. She had two children, a boy and a girl, and was living
somewhat secluded, but with every comfort she could desire. Her
husband was a merchant in a good business. When he came home at
tea-time and met his wife, it was with one of those quiet but
genuine smiles that you know come from the heart. He welcomed me, as
he always did, with great cordiality; and then calling for Sarah,
his eldest child, who ran in from the next room the instant she
heard his vice, he took her upon his lap, and, after kissing her
with great tenderness, asked and answered a dozen little questions
to her great delight. At tea-time Mr. Williamson conversed more
freely than was usual with him when I was present. I noticed, as I
had often done before, that, on whatever subject he spoke, his
remarks, though few, were full of good sense, and indicative of
close observation. The slightest deviation from honour or integrity
met with his decid