sudden blow. I felt no interest in life, but I
endeavored, when in the presence of my parents, to assume a cheerfulness
which was far from being the real state of my mind.

"To a few and tried friends only did we make known the real truth of
the circumstances attending the departure of Mr. Almont from Littleton.
Time passed on. Those who knew my sorrows respected them, and the name
of George Almont ceased to be mentioned among our acquaintances. But it
was something which I could never cease to remember. I had loved George
Almont as one of my nature can love but once in her life, and, when I
learned that I had been deceived in regard to his true character, the
knowledge was very bitter to me. I loved him still--not as he really
was, but I still loved the memory of what I had supposed him to be, when
I gave him my affection. There are few lessons in life more bitter to
either man or woman than to find themselves deceived by one to whom they
have given their best affections. For a time I yielded to a bitter and
desponding spirit. I excluded myself from all society, and brooded in
solitude over my sorrow. I so far yielded to this unhealthy tone of mind
that I gave up attending church, and I caused my parents much grief and
anxiety by the sullen and apathetic state of mind in which I indulged.

"During the winter which succeeded the events of which I have spoken,
there was a series of special meetings held in the Congregational Church
in this village. A general interest was manifested in the subjects of
religion by both old and young. Many of those who had been my former
companions were hopefully converted. I had formerly been of a gay and
lively disposition, fond of dress and amusement. The subject of religion
was one to which I had scarcely ever given a thought. The world and its
pleasures occupied my whole heart, and, when the world disappointed me,
I knew not where to turn for comfort. True, I had, from a child,
attended to the outward forms of religion, but my heart was untouched
and I now see that it required a great earthly sorrow to turn my
thoughts heavenward. I at first refused to attend the meetings of which
I have spoken, though often strongly urged to do so, but, one evening,
my parents so strongly urged me to accompany them to hear an aged
minister from another State that I at length consented to go. It is a
matter of thankfulness to me this day that I attended that meeting. As I
have said, the minister was an