She did not reproach him--she died of a broken heart! I saw her just before her death, for I was distantly related to her, and I could not forsake her utterly even in her sin. She then spoke to me only of the child by her former marriage, whom she had left in the years when it most needed her care: she questioned me of its health--its education--its very growth: the minutest thing was not beneath her inquiry. His tidings were all that brought back to her mind 'the redolence of joy and spring.' I brought that child to her one day: he at least had never forgotten her. How bitterly both wept when they were separated! and she--poor, poor Ellen--an hour after their separation was no more!" There was a pause for a few minutes. Emily was deeply affected. Mrs. St. John had anticipated the effect she had produced, and concerted the method to increase it. "It is singular," she resumed, "that, the evening before her elopement, some verses were sent to her anonymously--I do not think, Emily, that you have ever seen them. Shall I sing them to you now?" and, without waiting for a reply, she placed herself at the piano; and with a low but sweet voice, greatly aided in effect by the extreme feeling of her manner, she sang the following verses: 1. And wilt thou leave that happy home, Where once it was so sweet to live? Ah! think, before thou seek'st to roam, What safer shelter Guilt can give! 2. The Bird may rove, and still regain With spotless wings, her wonted rest, But home, once lost, is ne'er again Restored to Woman's erring breast! 3. If wandering o'er a world of flowers, The heart at times would ask repose; But thou wouldst lose the only bowers Of rest amid a world of woes. 4. Recall thy youth's unsullied vow The past which on thee smile so fair; Then turn from thence to picture now The frowns thy future fate must wear! 5. No hour, no hope, can bring relief To her who hides a blighted name; For hearts unbow'd by stormiest _grief_ Will break beneath one breeze of _shame_! 6. And when thy child's deserted years Amid life's early woes are thrown, Shall menial bosoms soothe the tears That should be shed on thine alone? 7. When on thy name his lips shall call, (That tender name, the earliest taught!) Thou wouldst not Shame and Sin were all The memories link'd around its thought!