not resist its power. He became enslaved by the fascinations of
another, and poor Helen was almost forgotten. Painfully did the
conviction force itself upon her, as his letters became first, less
frequent, and then less affectionate. Love is generally quicksighted;
but Helen's own heart was so pure, and so devoted, that it was hard to
believe she was no longer beloved. Hers was, indeed, a delicate
position. She noticed the alteration in Edward Cranston's style of
writing, and fancied it proceeded from any cause but diminution of
regard for her; that, she thought, could not be possible; but soon,
alas! did she learn, the (to her) sad truth, that her affianced lover
was devoted to another, a most beautiful girl, residing in the same
town, and it was said, they were engaged, and too true were the
reports, which the following letter confirmed.

"MY DEAR HELEN,

"How shall I write, or where find words to express all I desire to
say. Shall I commence by hoping that absence has led you to regard
me with less affection, or shall I honestly say, I no longer love
you as you deserve to be loved, and that I am no longer worthy your
affection. It costs me much to say this; but you would not wish me
to deceive you; you would not wish me to go perjured from the altar
with you. I most earnestly hope, nay, I feel sure, you will not
regret that I have discovered this mistake ere too late for the
peace of both. I have opened my heart and most bitterly do I regret
its delinquency; but our affections are involuntary, and not under
our control. Till the last two months, I believed mine to be
inviolably yours. I know I am betrothed to you, and, if you require
it, am bound, in honour, to fulfil my engagement; but I will ask
you, ought I to do so, feeling I no longer love you as I ought? Is