ear, and she said with some
difficulty,

"'Mr. Gardner, the writer of this letter was once much interested in
me.'

"'And you in him, eh? Well, my love, those things are all gone by; I
can fully trust you. So again, I say, correspond with any body you
like, provided you don't ask me to read the letters.'

The generous confidence of her husband deeply affected Mary; but,
unhappily, it did not induce her to the safe course of declining the
correspondence with this fascinating and dangerous friend. The
correspondence went on for years, nay, it was continued up to the time
of my visit. And now, my dears, I must stop the current of my story
for a minute, to utter my protest against this most dangerous and
wretched of all theories--_Platonic friendships between a married
woman and her male friends._ But for the false notions of safety in
such a friendship, Mary Dunbar might now be a loved and loving woman.
This you will not believe could have been with Mr. Gardner; but
remember, Mary was getting to love Mr. Gardner a good deal, and habit
and duty and maternal happiness would have done much; so that _in a
sort_, she would have been both loved and loving. The letters from
Randolph, which she showed me, were very interesting, and full of fine
sensible remarks on education, all so interspersed with gentle and
deep interest for herself, that you saw she was never out of his mind
and heart for an instant. Just such letters as a happy married woman
would never read, and what any woman's instinct protects her from if
she listens to it.

"Things had gone on in this way for two years, or thereabouts, when
the child, who had been the subject of so many theories, and in whom
were garnered all the _conscious_ hopes of Mary, was taken suddenly
ill. Her anxiety induced her immediately to summon medical assistance;
and she could hardly believe her physician when he said there were no
grounds for apprehension. The child had a sore throat; there was a
considerable degree of inflammation about the system, and when he
left, he directed Mary to have some leeches applied to the neck of the
little girl, at the same time pointing to the spot where he wished
them to take the blood.

Mary was particular to place them there, but to her great alarm, the
blood issued from the punctures in such a quantity as to drench the
bed-linen almost immediately. In vain she tried to stop it--it flowed
in torrents, and before the horror-struck servants could