"One evening I was sitting alone by the light of the moon; my thoughts had travelled, unchecked and unbidden, to England, and as I thought, I drew from my bosom, the first and only keepsake I had received from you, the small clasped Bible, in which you had written my name and your own. I had often tried to throw it away, but could not--wherever I went, it accompanied me, a silent reproach, but nothing more. That night, I opened it, and read; before I was aware, my uncle, who had entered unperceived, approached me. I would have hid the precious volume, had I had time; but he saw it, and I threw it carelessly aside. He took it up, and opened it. I never shall forget the look of benignity and pleasure which lighted up his features at that moment. Are they not worn out and haggard now? but they seemed beautiful then, as he said-- "'There is hope.' "'No, uncle, that will not do,' I said, attempting to laugh, 'it is only a keepsake.' "He looked at the first page, and repeated, softly--'Mabel, Mabel.' I do not think he ever forgot the name; and, from that time, it was associated with good and holy things. "Anxious to change the subject, I prevailed on him to walk; and, as we went, I engaged him in talking over lighter topics, for I felt unable to renew our customary arguments that evening. "As we strolled on, we came upon a group of many peasants, who were eagerly engaged in looking at something in their centre, and talking loudly all the while. Wishing to observe what had attracted them, we drew nearer, and soon perceived that they were standing round two wretched women, who, with their caps torn under their feet, and their hair streaming about their faces, were fighting, with the fury of demons, using, at the same time, the most fearful imprecations, while the mob cheered and irritated them by turns. I was leaving the spot in disgust, when my uncle, passing his arm through mine, prevented my doing so. Though I had passed through many horrible scenes, I felt sick when I looked on this. "At length, one of the women, with a horrible shriek of triumph, held up, to the crowd, a handful of hair, which she had torn from her adversary's head; but, as she turned slightly to do so, the other took the opportunity of tripping her up, and they both rolled on the ground, struggling together, and the crowd closed round them. I turned a sick look on my uncle, who, far less moved than myself, exclaimed, in an emphatic voice-- "'Who would spend an eternity with such companions?' "The boldest arguments he had used never made so strong an impression upon me as did these words. I broke from him, and pursued my walk alone. I, who had turned with disgust from every moral deformity--I, to whom refinement was as the breath of life, to be classed with such wretches as these.