rought the letter before him again, looked at it, and
finally broke the seal and opened it. There was a good deal of it, as
he had remarked.

'Seaforth, _May_ 11, 1815. 'MY DEAR PITT,--Papa has given me leave to
write a letter to you; and I wanted to write, because I have something
to tell you that I think you will be glad to hear. I am afraid I cannot
tell it very well, for I am not much accustomed to writing letters; but
I will do as well as I can.

'I am afraid it will take me some time to say what I want to say. I
cannot put it in two or three sentences. You must have patience with me.

'Do you remember my telling you once that I wanted comfort? And do you
remember my asking you once about the meaning of some words in the
Bible, where I was looking for comfort, because mamma said it was the
best place? We were sitting in the verandah, one afternoon. You had
been away, to New Haven, and were home for vacation.

'Well, I partly forgot about it that summer, I was so happy. You know
what a good time we had with everything, and I forgot about wanting
comfort. But after you went away that autumn to Lisbon and to England,
then the want came back. You were very good about writing, and I
enjoyed your letters very much; and yet, somehow, every one seemed to
make me feel a little worse than I did before. That is, after the first
bit, you know. For an hour, perhaps, while I was reading it, and
reading it the second time, and thinking about it, I was almost
perfectly happy; the letters seemed to bring you near; but when just
that first hour was passed, they made you seem farther off than ever;
farther off every time. And then the want of comfort came back, and I
did not know where to get it. There was nobody to ask, and no help at
all, if I could not find it in the Bible. All that winter, and all the
summer, last summer that was, and all the first part of this last
winter, I did not know what to do, I wanted comfort so. I thought maybe
you would never come back to Seaforth again; and you know there is
nobody else here, and I was quite alone. I never do see anybody but
papa, except Mr. and Mrs. Dallas, who come here once in a while. So I
went to the Bible. I read, and I thought.

'Do you remember those words I once asked you about? Perhaps you do
not, so I will write them down here. "The Lord make His face shine upon
thee, and be gracious unto thee. The Lord lift up His countenance upon
thee, and give the peace." Those are