“I left him with Fanny—Oh! let me recall her image, as the last time I saw her in purity and peace: She sat in a chair by the open window, arrayed in a beautiful robe of light blue silk; her air and attitude I noticed _then_ was pensive; her elbow rested on the window-sill, and her arm, her beautiful arm, encircled by a diamond bracelet, emerged from its sleeve of silk and lace; her hand supported her drooping head, from which her ringlets hung like spiral curls of glittering gold. The other gemmed and snow-like hand hung listless by her side. Strange! I was then inspired with a warmth of affection towards her I had not felt for years. I stepped back as I was about leaving the room, and lifted the snow-flake hand to my lips, and then left the room and the house, for the first time for years, with the wish that I might be able to dispatch my business quickly and return soon. This caprice pursued me, strengthening every inch of the way, as I journeyed from her, until at the solemn bed of death, it was interrupted by the sight of my dying parishioner and his weeping family. I administered the last consolations of religion to the dying man, or at least I read the service for the sick by his bedside, and gave him the sacrament. I soon after took leave, and rode towards the village, where I expected to find B., awaiting the steamboat. I found him in the parlor of the hotel. As the hour of the boat’s passing had not quite arrived, I ordered supper, and we supped together. Yes! we sat down once more and broke bread together! Oh! the power of duplicity in that bad man! Had I been the most jealous, as I was then the most unsuspicious of human beings, by no sign in his countenance or manner could I have detected a consciousness in him of the blasting ruin he had wrought in my home! His conversation was as brilliant, his manner as entertaining as ever; and his eyes sought mine with the same earnest sweetness that had ever lived in their expression. At the end of half an hour, the boat stopped at the landing, and I took leave of him with more regret than I had ever felt at parting with mortal man before or since. I pressed him to repeat his visit soon, and make it longer—and he promised! and bade me bear his best wishes and his adieux to Mrs. Withers! I mounted my horse and rode towards home, my thoughts strangely haunted with Fanny—how lovely she seemed in my thoughts! I hastened onwards. I drew near the house.