Clarissa, and the smaller one for you, Betty; let us go into the
sitting-room and read ours together."

"None for me?" said Pamela's despairing voice, with a sob treading on
the words; "oh, I fear me some evil has befallen Josiah."

"No, no," whispered Betty, stealing her hand lovingly into her sister's,
as she pulled her gently into the room; "father has the dispatches;
these are but the long-looked-for letters from New York, Pamela, and
I'll wager there is something from Josiah among father's packets. Let us
see what my letter says," and Betty, having seated Pamela and Sally on
the settle, placed herself on a convenient cricket, and broke the seal
of her letter. But before her eyes had time to see more than "Dearest
Betty," she was interrupted by a sudden exclamation from her aunt.

"Clarissa has been at death's door," cried Miss Euphemia, startled out
of her usual composure. "I knew this long silence boded no good. Listen,
I will read it," and the three girls gathered round her chair at once.

"Dear and Honored Aunt" (ran the letter), "I take up my pen, after many
days of pain and dire distress, to send loving greetings to you, my
Beloved father, and my dear sisters. For the hand of death was nearly
upon me; thank God that I am still preserved to my dear Husband and to
you.

"It was a very malignant and severe attack of Fever, and Gulian procured
the services of no less than three Physicians, as for days I laid
unconscious. My little baby died at two hours old, and I never saw him.
Alas, how I have suffered! I am now very weak, altho' able to be dressed
and sit up each day. This is my first letter; and I pine so sorely for