r one afternoon, by her black, floating hair,
sitting at a second-story window of the house in Mercer street, her back
toward me. The sight was like electricity on my feelings; a transport of
joy bore away my thoughts. I gazed, and continued to gaze upon the
object, throwing, as it were, new passion into my soul. But it turned,
and there was a changed face, a face more lovely, looking eagerly into a
book. Looking eagerly into a book did not betray one who could not read.
But there was that in my heart that prompted me to look on the favorable
side of the doubt--to try a different expedient in gaining admittance to
the house. When night came, I assumed a dress those who look on
mechanics as vulgar people, would have said became a gentleman; and
approaching the house, gained easy admittance. As I was about entering
the great parlors, a familiar but somewhat changed voice at the top of
the circling stairs that led from the hall caught my ear. I paused,
listened, became entranced with suspense. Again it resounded--again my
heart throbbed with joy. It was Anna's voice, so soft and musical. The
woman who opened the door turned from me, and attempted to hush it. But
Anna seemed indifferent to the admonition, for she tripped buoyantly
down stairs, accompanying a gentleman to the door. I stood before her, a
changed person. Her recognition of me was instantaneous. Her color
changed, her lips quivered, her eyes filled with tears, her very soul
seemed fired with emotions she had no power to resist. 'George
Mullholland!' she exclaimed, throwing her arms about my neck, kissing
me, and burying her head in my bosom, and giving vent to her feelings in
tears and quickened sobs--'how I have thought of you, watched for you,
and hoped for the day when we would meet again and be happy. Oh, George!
George! how changed everything seems since we parted! It seems a long
age, and yet our sufferings, and the fondness for each other that was
created in that suffering, freshens in the mind. Dear, good George--my
protector!' she continued, clinging to me convulsively. I took her in my
arms (the scene created no little excitement in the house) and bore her
away to her chamber, which was chastely furnished, displaying a correct
taste, and otherwise suited to a princess. Having gained her presence of
mind, and become calm, she commenced relating what had occurred since we
parted at Scorpion Cove. I need not relate it at length here, for it was
similar in