upon its tempest tossed bosom, so did the surging waves of memory
bring back one incident after another in her past life, and picture
the tender looks and the tender tones of the unfaithful Edward, during
the many long years she had regarded him as her future husband. To him
she had yielded up her heart's best affections. For his sake she had
rejected many an advantageous offer of marriage.

She met the family in the morning with quite a composed countenance,
but with a sad heart.

In the afternoon she went to her uncle's to visit her grandmother,
thinking, perhaps, change of place might produce some change in her
feelings. It was a delightful afternoon. The sun shed that soft
subdued light so peculiar to the season, over the face of nature,
which seemed rather approximating to maturity than verging to decay.
The trees were robed in their deepest green, while the early ripe
fruit hung temptingly upon their branches, or lay scattered upon the
ground beneath. Scarce a breeze agitated the trembling leaf or cooled
the fever upon her cheek. "O," thought she, as she passed along, "the
howling of the wintry storms would better correspond with my feelings
than this holy calm." She, in her agony, had not yet learned to bathe
her restless spirit in the fountain of Jiving waters, or to listen
to that voice that said, "Peace, be still," and the winds and waves
obeyed; therefore she had no "shelter from the windy storm and
tempest."

She was startled by hearing some one near her repeating in a low,
musical voice,

"Little Hannah Pease, little Hannah Pease; old Ben Thornton, old