20 MY MOTHER'S when you wept over it, while you first told me the story of your mother’s death : it was just a month before we were married, the last sabbath evening in May, Jenny, and we were walking by the river. I wish you would bring me that ring.” Memory hurried me back, in an instant, to the scene, the bank upon the river’s side, where we sat together, and agreed upon our wedding-day. I brought down the ring, and he asked me, with such an earnestness of manner, to put it on his little finger, that I did so ; not, however, without a trembling hand and a misgiving heart. “ And now, Jenny,” said he, as he rose to go out, “ pray that God will support me.” My mind was not in a happy state, for I felt some doubt of his intentions. From a little hill, at the back of our cottage, we had a fair view of the Deacon’s store. I went up to the top of it; and while I watched my husband’s steps, no one can tell how fervently I prayed God to guide them aright. I saw two of his old companions, standing at the store door, with glasses in their hands; and,
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy MTM4ODY=