“I have been very ill.—When I sleep fires consumes me: I heard sweet music, such as angels sing over the dead:—there was one voice clear, and soft as a lute sounding at a distance on the water:—it was familiar to me; but he fled when I followed.... Every one talks of Lord Glenarvon.—Yes, he is come back—he is come back to his own country covered with glory.—a bride awaits him, I was told.—He is happy; and I shall not grieve, if I see him—yes, if I see him once more before I die:—it is all I ask. I am so weak I can scarcely write; but my father, my dear Father, I wish to tell you all.—I will watch for him among the crowd.... “Tuesday Night, Belfont. “I walked to Belfont;—and now the bitterness of death is passed.—I have seen that angel face once again—I have heard that sweetest voice, and I can lie down, and die; for I am happy now.—He passed me; but oh! bitter bitter sight to me, he turned from me, and looked upon another.—They tell me it was my preserver and benefactress: they say, it was Lady Avondale. He looked proud of her, and happy in himself.—I am glad he looked happy; but yet I thought he turned his eyes on me, and gazed upon me once so sadly, as if in this mournful countenance and altered form, he traced the features of her whom he had once loved so well.—But no—it could not be:—he did not know me; and I will see him again. If he will but say, “Alice: God bless you,” I shall die satisfied.—And if my child still lives, and comes again to you, so cold, so pale—take him to your heart, dear father, and forgive his mother—I am ill, and cannot write. They watch me; my pencil is almost worn out, and they will give me no other.—I have one favor to ask, and it is this:—when I came to Dublin, I gave all the money I had to buy this broach—take it to Lady Avondale. They say she is very good, and perhaps, when she hears how ill I am, she will pardon my faults, and give it for me to Lord Glenarvon.—I shall wait for him every day in the same wood, and who knows, but I may see him again....” And Alice did see him again;—and she did kneel to him;—and she received from his hands the relief he thought she craved;—and the unexpected kindness broke her heart.—She died;——and she was buried in the church near Belfont. There was a white stone placed upon her grave, and her old father went daily there and wept; and he had the tree that now grows there planted; and it was railed around, that the cattle and wild-goats, might not destroy it.