d to wish to form an
honorable connection in America," was rather coldly commented on by the
mother. What rendered it singular was the fact that the signatures had
been carefully cut from every one of these letters, and wherever a name
occurred in the body of the epistles it had been erased with so much
diligence as to render it impossible to read it. They had all been
enclosed in envelopes, according to the fashion of the age, and not an
address either was to be found. Still the letters themselves had been
religiously preserved, and Judith thought she could discover traces of
tears remaining on several. She now remembered to have seen the little
trunk in her mother's keeping, previously to her death, and she supposed
it had first been deposited in the chest, along with the other forgotten
or concealed objects, when the letters could no longer contribute to
that parent's grief or happiness.

Next came another bundle, and these were filled with the protestations
of love, written with passion certainly, but also with that deceit which
men so often think it justifiable to use to the other sex. Judith
had shed tears abundantly over the first packet, but now she felt a
sentiment of indignation and pride better sustaining her. Her hand
shook, however, and cold shivers again passed through her frame, as she
discovered a few points of strong resemblance between these letters and
some it had been her own fate to receive. Once, indeed, she laid the
packet down, bowed her head to her knees, and seemed nearly convulsed.
All this time Deerslayer sat a silent but attentive observer of every
thing that passed. As Judith read a letter she put it into his hands to
hold until she could peruse the next; but this served in no degree to
enlighten her companion, as he was totally unable to read. Nevertheless
he was not entirely at fault in discovering the passions that were
contending in the bosom of the fair creature by his side, and, as
occasional sentences escaped her in murmurs, he was nearer the truth, in
his divinations, or conjectures, than the girl would have been pleased
at discovering.

Judith had commenced with the earliest letters, luckily for a ready
comprehension of the tale they told, for they were carefully arranged in
chronological order, and to any one who would take the trouble to peruse
them, would have revealed a sad history of gratified passion, coldness,
and finally of aversion. As she obtained the clue to their impor