float on a stormy current, without pilot or helm. I sink beneath
the whelming billows. Help, Lord! or I perish!"

Before I rose from my knees, it seemed as if invisible arms surrounded
me,--bearing me up, above the dark and troubled waters. I felt as if God
would open a way for me to walk in; and I resolved to leave the event in
his hands. Had I applied to an earthly counsellor, with wisdom to
direct, they might have told me, that one who had been guilty of the
crime my father had committed, had forfeited every claim on a daughter's
heart. That I had no right to endanger a husband's happiness, or to
sacrifice my own peace, in consequence of his rash demand. No
instinctive attraction drew me to this mysterious man. Instead of the
yearnings of filial affection, I felt for him an unconquerable
repugnance. His letter touched me, but his countenance repelled. His
bold, unreceding eye;--not thus should a father gaze upon his child.

Upon what apparent trifles the events of our life sometimes depend! At
the breakfast table, Madge suddenly asked what day of the month it was.

Then I remembered that it was the day appointed for a meeting of the
ladies composing a benevolent association, of which I had been lately
made a member. After the conversation with Ernest, in which I had
expressed such an anxiety to do good, he had supplied me bountifully
with means, so that my purse was literally overflowing. I had met the
society once, and had gone _alone_. The hour of the meeting was _ten_.
What a coincidence! Was Providence opening a way in which my doubting
feet should walk? When I mentioned the day of the month, I added,

"Our Society for the Relief of Invalid Seamstresses meets this morning.
I had forgotten it, till your question reminded me that this was the
day."

"Do not your coffers need replenishing, fair Lady Bountiful?" asked
Ernest. "This is an association founded on principles which I revere. If
any class of females merit the sympathy and kind offices of the generous
sisterhood, it is that, whose services are so ill repaid, and whose
lives must be one long drawn sigh of weariness and anxiety. Give, my
Gabriella, to your heart's content; and if one pale cheek is colored
with the glow of hope, one dim eye lighted with joy, something will be
added to the sum of human happiness."

Ernest was unusually kind and tender. He watched me as the fond mother
does the child, whom she has perhaps too severely chided. He seemed to