Great was the joy of cousin Kate and her husband, when it was known that William Bruce had determined to join the band of emigrants, and that Alice had acquiesced. William was a young man of such good judgment and stedfast principles, that they all felt he would be a balance-wheel in the machinery of any society where he moved. John Bradford was equally good and true, but his temperament induced more volubility of speech, and more eagerness of action. When the band of emigrants heard of William’s decision, they said laughingly to each other, “Now we shall have both Moses and Aaron to guide us into Canaan.” Kate’s widowed mother, and a younger brother and sister, resolved to join the enterprising band. A little nephew of five years old was of the same mind; and when told that he was too small to be of any use, he declared himself fully able to catch a bear. Alice’s father and mother had prospective plans of following their daughter, accompanied by their oldest son, in case those who went before them should send up a good report of the land. Her adhesive affections suffered terribly in this rupture of old ties. But in such natures love takes possession of the whole being. She would have sacrificed life itself for William. All her friends knew it was harder for her than for others, to go into a strange land and enter into entirely new modes of existence. Therefore, they all spoke hopefully to her, and no one but William ever presented the clouded side of the picture to her view. He did it from a conscientious scruple, lest she should go forward in the enterprise with eyes blinded to its difficulties. But the hardships he described in such tender tones, never _seemed_ like hardships. His warnings were always met with the affectionate response, “What a proud and happy woman I shall be, dear William, if I can do any thing to sustain you through the trials you will have to encounter.” She never spoke despondingly, never told the fears that sometimes swarmed in her imagination. If she could not strengthen him, she at least would not unnerve him, she said to herself; and as for cousin Kate, she would have been ashamed to acknowledge to _her_ what a faint heart was beating within her bosom. Kate, who had earned her own living ever since she was sixteen, and assisted her widowed mother, and educated her younger brother and sister, in a manner well adapted to make them useful and active members of society, was just the woman to emigrate to the West. Sometimes Alice sighed, and wished she was more like Kate. She did not know how many anxious thoughts were concealed under her cousin’s cheerful tones, her bright frank smile, and her energetic preparations for departure.