"It was midnight; the air was still, not a leaf moved; sometimes I believed I dosed; but I had a sense of being awake always present to my mind; the hours seemed changed to eternity. I began suddenly to think I was dying; I thought I never should see the morrow's sun. Alithea would come, but her friend would not answer to her call; he would never speak to her more. At this moment I heard a rustling; was there some animal about? it drew near, it was steps; a white figure appeared between the trunks of the trees; again I thought it was a dream, till the dearest of all voices spoke my name, the loveliest and kindest face in the world bent over me; my cold, clammy hand was taken in hers, so soft and warm. I started up, I threw my arms around her, I pressed her to my bosom. She had found my note on retiring for the night; fearful of disobeying my injunctions of secrecy, she had waited till all was at rest before she stole out to me; and now, with all the thoughtfulness that characterized her, when another's wants and sufferings were in question, she brought food with her, and a large cloak to wrap my shivering limbs. She sat beside me as I ate, smiling through her tears; no reproach fell from her lips, it was only joy to see me, and expressions of kind encouragement. "I dwell too much on these days; my tale grows long, and I must abridge the dear recollections of those moments of innocence and happiness. Alithea easily persuaded me to see her mother, and Mrs. Rivers received me as a mother would a son who has been in danger of death, and is recovering. I saw only smiles, I heard only congratulations. I wondered where the misery and despair which gathered so thickly around me had flown--no vestige remained; the sun shone unclouded on my soul. "I asked no questions, I remained passive; I felt that something was being done for me, but I did not inquire what. Each day I spent several hours in study, so to reward the kindness of my indulgent friend. Each day I listened to her gentle converse, and wandered with Alithea over hill and dale, and poured into her ear my resolutions to become great and good. Surely in this world there are no aspirations so noble, pure, and godlike as those breathed by an enthusiastic boy, who dreams of love and virtue, and who is still guarded by childlike innocence.