I had previously apprized Henry of the arrangement, and named a point of meeting. Upon reaching it, I found him already waiting for me. We took a long stroll through the lamp-lit streets, talking of the blessed hopes that struggled in our bosoms; of the faint divinings of the future; told over the story of past sufferings, and renewed olden vows of devotion. He, with the most lover-like fondness, had brought me some little gift; for this I kindly reproved him, saying that all his money should be appropriated to himself, that, by observing a rigid economy, we but hastened on the glorious day of release from bondage. Before ten I was at home, and waiting beside Miss Adele. How kindly she asked me if I had enjoyed myself; and with what pride I told her of the joy that her kindness had afforded me! Surely the sweet smile that played so luminously over her fair face was a reflex of the peace that irradiated her soul! How beautifully she illustrated, in her single life, the holy ministrations of true womanhood! Did she not, with kind words and generous acts, "strive to bind up the bruised, broken heart." At the very mention of her name, aye, at the thought of her even, I never fail to invoke a blessing upon her life! Thus, for weeks and months, through her ingenuity, I saw Henry and Louise frequently. Otherwise, how dull and dreary would have seemed to me that long, cold winter, with its heaped snow-banks, its dull, gray sky, its faint, chill sun, and leafless trees; but the sunbeam of her kindness made the season bright, warm and grateful! CHAPTER XXXVI. THE NEW ASSOCIATES--DEPRAVED VIEWS--ELSY'S MISTAKE--DEPARTURE OF THE YOUNG LADIES--LONELINESS. In Mr. Smith's family of servants was Emily, the cook, a sagacious woman, but totally without education, knowledge, or the peculiar ambition that leads to its acquisition. She was a bold, raw, unthinking spirit; and, from the fact that she had been kept closely confined to the house, never allowed any social pleasure, she resolved to be revenged, and unfortunately in her desire for "spite" (as she termed it), had sacrificed her character, and was the mother of two children, with unacknowledged fathers. Possessed of a violent temper, she would, at periods, rave like a mad-woman; and only the severest lashing could bring her into subjection. She was my particular terror. Her two children, half-bloods, were little, sick, weasly things that excited the compassion of all beholders, and though two years of age (twins), were, from some physical derangement, unable to walk.