since, I removed from Troy, New York. That is my native place--or,
at least, I had lived there from boyhood up, when I removed to
Boston. It is now about ten years since a man named Ballantine, who
seemed to possess considerable wealth, made his appearance in the
place, accompanied by his daughter, a young girl about thirteen
years of age. He came from New Orleans, where his wife had died, and
where he was still engaged in business. His object in coming North
with his child was to secure for her the advantages of a good
seminary. He seemed to prefer Troy, and after remaining there for
some months concluded to place his child in the family of a
newly-married man, whose wife, somewhat matronly in age and in
habits, happened to please his fancy, as a maternal guardian for his
child. After making every requisite arrangement in regard to her
education, he returned to New Orleans, from which city money to
defray her expenses was regularly transmitted. Once a year he came
North to visit her, and remained in our town for a few weeks.

"I happened to know the family in which Eugenia Ballantine was
placed, and became acquainted with her immediately. I was then but a
boy, though some four years her senior, yet old enough to feel for
her, from the beginning, something more than a mere fraternal
regard. And this sentiment was reciprocal. No place was so pleasant
to me as that which was cheered by her presence--no smile warmed my
heart like her smile; and I could always see her countenance
brighten the moment I came where she was.

"Gradually, as year after year passed, and she still remained among
us, our early preference for each other, or rather our early
affection, assumed a more serious character. We loved each other;
she was just seventeen, and I twenty-one, when I ventured to tell