But we cannot well refrain from presenting the reader with one more of Maria’s letters, evidently written under the withering influence of disappointment and shame. Still the repulsive brutality of Maxwell could not stifle the flame of FIRST LOVE, that burned within her confiding, forgiving, repentant heart. To his iron scoffs she returned tears, tenderness, and supplications. * * * * * _June, Wednesday Evening._ Beloved Theodore: Shall we ever again meet? Shall I indeed ever again listen to that sweet voice--that voice which sometimes bears such unkind words--and will it tell me again that it loves me, with the selfsame accents that ever ring in my fascinated ear? But oh, Theodore, speak unkindly no more--no more neglect. I feel that there is a stain upon my soul which all the waters of Jordan could not cleanse. But, Theodore, you swore your fidelity in the face of Heaven. If you continue your neglect, I shall die. Oh, this love is a fever--a fever which has no antidote but death for me! Could I but blot that fatal night from the scroll of time, my bliss would never end. Why did the moon look down so palely, and the gold stars laugh? You bathed my temples in the pearly dew, and spoke so kindly--Oh, were you false even then? And _I_ your victim! Avaunt! avaunt! thou horrid dream! Begone! He is still true--my soul’s light--my Theodore! But seldom he comes, or writes to me, of late. Dearest love, I thought to meet you yesterday, at your boarding-house. I called with Miss R. But you were gone, and (would you think it?) your landlady tossed her head slyly, and said: “Perhaps he went out of town to some grave-yard, last night!” Horrible! How ugly in her to say that! I heeded not her base insinuation. Would you suppose it? I went into your bedroom. I contrived to get there unobserved. I was there but a moment--a precious moment. Don’t think it wrong, don’t scold me, dear--but I kissed your pillow, and left a tear-drop on it. I could not help it, dearest, when I reflected that your darling head had rested there so often and so lately. Oh, that I were now at your side! Every thing is so desolate without you--every thing so harrows up the past! Oh that I could forget the past! But I will not be miserable. I will be grateful to Heaven that I have been loved by you. Theodore! do not let your brow be clouded when you read this. Smile, smile! as when you first greeted me, a stranger! God knows how much devotion I lavished upon you for that kindness. Shall it now curse me? Pray write to me. There is no misery so long as we love; but in the flickering light of hope I see darkly.