uld not
be, under any temptation. I think Westfield was wrong, under the
circumstances, to visit me as constantly as he did; but my husband
appeared to like his company, and even encouraged him to come. Many
times he has asked him to drive me out, or to attend me to a concert
or the theatre, as he knew that I wished to go, and he had business
that required his attention, or felt a disinclination to leave home.
In not a single instance, when I thus went out, would not my
pleasure have been increased, had my husband been my companion; and
yet I liked the company of Westfield--perhaps too well. The remains
of former feelings may still have lingered, unknown to me, in my
heart. But I was never false to my husband, even in thought; nor did
Westfield ever presume to take the smallest liberty. Indeed, whether
in my husband's presence, or when with me, his manner was polite,
and inclined to be deferential rather than familiar. I believe that
the sentiments he held toward me before my marriage, remained; and
these, while they drew him to my side, made him cherish my honour
and integrity as a wife, as he would cherish the apple of his eye.
And yet he has been murdered, and I have been cast off, while both
were innocent! Fatal haste! Fatal misjudgment! How suddenly have I
fallen from the pinnacle of happiness into the dark pit of despair!
Alas! alas! Who can tell what a day may bring forth?"

Another, and very important paper, which the casket contained, was a
written declaration of Mrs. Miller's innocence, made by Westfield
before his death. It was evidently one of his last acts, and was
penned with a feeble and trembling hand. It was in these impressive
words:--

"Solemnly, in the presence of God, and without the hope of living
but a few hours, do I declare that Mrs. Anna Miller is innocent of
the foul charges made against her by her husband and brother, and
that I never, even in thought, did wrong to her honour. I was on
terms of close intimacy with her, and this her husband knew and
freely assented to. I confess that I had a higher regard for her
than for any living woman. She imbodied all my highest conceptions
of female excellence. I was never happier than when in her company.
Was this a crime? It would have been had I attempted to win from her
any thing beyond a sentiment of friendship. But this I never did
after her marriage, and do not believe that she regarded me in any
other light than as her own and her husband's fr