Annie had faded with the leaves of autumn--she had heard of Edward's
union with a young lady of great wealth and beauty soon after his
visit to her, and she felt grieved, when she reflected upon the
unmanly manner in which he had conducted towards her. She had
conversed freely with Alfred, and laying all the circumstances of the
case before him, told him she should respect him while she lived, but
was fully sensible her blighted heart never could know another earthly
love.

"And while the lamp of life continues to burn," she added, "I wish
to direct my thoughts to Heaven, and prepare for that change that is
before me. Death, Alfred, will soon claim me for his bride; he, at
least, will not prove recreant to his trust."

Alfred kissed her pale cheek, and looked tenderly upon her, feeling
that her presages were indeed too true.

She was soon removed to the home of her mother, whose heart yearned
towards her dying child with the affection of a true mother. As
Annie's health declined rapidly, and the things of earth became more
dim and shadowy, the heavenly became more distinct and glorious.

"O, Ellen," she would say, "how precious at such a time as this, is
the presence of the Saviour, who condescends to minister to us in our
necessities. O, Ellen, do seek an interest in his dying love. You will
be the only remaining one, soon. Father, Matilda, and Willie have long
since passed from earth, and soon--very soon, I must join them in the
spirit land. Oh, mother, do try by repentance and faith, to meet us
there, so that we may be a united family in heaven, though we have