ened upon us to-day, my dear Mrs. Sumner--a visit from
Major Sanford. My mamma, Miss Granby, and myself were sitting together
in the chamber. Miss Granby was entertaining us by reading aloud in
Millot's Elements of History, when a servant rapped at the door, and
handed in the following billet:--

"Will Miss Wharton condescend to converse a few moments with her
once-favored Sanford? He is but too sensible that he has forfeited all
claim to the privilege. He therefore presumes not to request it on the
score of merit, nor of former acquaintance, but solicits it from her
benevolence and pity."

I read and showed it to my mamma and Julia. "What," said I, "shall I do?
I wish not to see him. His artifice has destroyed my peace of mind, and
his presence may open the wounds which time is closing." "Act," said my
mamma, "agreeably to the dictates of your own judgment." "I see no harm
in conversing with him," said Julia. "Perhaps it may remove some
disagreeable thoughts which now oppress and give you pain. And as he is
no longer a candidate for your affections," added she with a smile, "it
will be less hazardous than formerly. He will not have the insolence to
speak, nor you the folly to hear, the language of love."

He was accordingly invited in. When I rose to go down, I hesitated, and
even trembled. "I fear," said I to myself, "it will be too much for me;
yet why should it? Conscious innocence will support me. This he has
not." When I entered the room he stepped forward to meet me. Confusion
and shame were visibly depicted in his countenance. He approached me
hastily and without uttering a word, took my hand. I withdrew it. "O
Miss Wharton," said he, "despise me not. I am convinced that I deserve
your displeasure and disdain; but my own heart has avenged your cause."
"To your own heart, then," said I, "I will leave you. But why do you
again seek an interview with one whom you have endeavored to
mislead--with one whom you have treated with unmerited neglect?"

"Justice to myself required my appearing before you, that, by confessing
my faults and obtaining your forgiveness, I might soften the reproaches
of my own mind." "Will you be seated, sir?" said I. "Will you," rejoined
he, "condescend to sit with me, Eliza?" "I will, sir," answered I "The
rights of hospitality I shall not infringe. In my own house, therefore,
I shall treat you with civility." "Indeed," said he, "you are very
severe; but I have provoked all the coldness a