tuation; and the first step to attain this was the exercise of those
faculties which had been, as it were, momentarily annihilated. Mrs. Wilson
kissed her niece with tenderness, as she placed the letter in her hand,
and told her she would call for her answer within an hour. Employment, and
the necessity of acting, would, she thought, be the surest means of
reviving her energies; nor was she disappointed. When the aunt returned
for the expected answer, she was informed by the maid in the ante-chamber,
that Miss Moseley was up, and had been writing. On entering, Mrs. Wilson
stood a moment in admiration of the picture before her. Emily was on her
knees, and by her side, on the carpet, lay the letter and its answer: her
face was hid by her hair, and her hands were closed in the fervent grasp
of petition. In a minute she rose, and approaching her aunt with an air of
profound resignation, but great steadiness, she handed her the letters,
her own unsealed:

"Read them, madam, and if you approve of mine, I will thank you to deliver
it."

Her aunt folded her in her arms, until Emily, finding herself yielding
under the effects of sympathy, begged to be left alone. On withdrawing to
her own room, Mrs. Wilson read the contents of the two letters.

"I rely greatly on the goodness of Miss Moseley to pardon the liberty I am
taking, at a moment she is so unfit for such a subject; but my
departure--my feelings--- must plead my apology. From the moment of my
first acquaintance with you, I have been a cheerful subject to your
loveliness and innocence. I feel--I know--I am not deserving of such a
blessing; but since knowing you, as I do, it is impossible not to strive
to win you. You have often thanked me as the preserver of your life, but
you little knew the deep interest I had in its safety. Without it my own
would be valueless. By accepting my offered hand, you will place me
amongst the happiest, or by rejecting it, the most wretched of men."

To this note, which was unsigned, and evidently written under great
agitation of mind, Emily had-penned the following reply:

"Sir--It is with much regret that I find myself reduced to the possibility
of giving uneasiness to one to whom I am under such heavy obligations. It
will never be in my power to accept the honor you have offered me; and I
beg you to receive my thanks for the compliment conveyed in your request,
as well as my good wishes for your happiness in future, and fervent
prayers