with this little book, and take it as an apology for my silence,” said Ambulinia, “while I attempt to answer this volume of consolation.”  “Thank you,” said Louisa, “you are excusable upon this occasion; but I pray you, Ambulinia, to be expert upon this momentous subject, that there may be nothing mistrustful upon my part.”  “I will,” said Ambulinia, and immediately resumed her seat and addressed the following to Elfonzo: 

Cumming, Ga., January 28, 1844.

Devoted Elfonzo—­

I hail your letter as a welcome messenger of faith, and can now say truly and firmly that my feelings correspond with yours.  Nothing shall be wanting on my part to make my obedience your fidelity.  Courage and perseverance will accomplish success.  Receive this as my oath, that while I grasp your hand in my own imagination, we stand united before a higher tribunal than any on earth.  All the powers of my life, soul, and body, I devote to thee.  Whatever dangers may threaten me, I fear not to encounter them.  Perhaps I have determined upon my own destruction, by leaving the house of the best of parents; be it so; I flee to you; I share your destiny, faithful to the end.  The day that I have concluded upon for this task is sabbath next, when the family with the citizens are generally at church.  For Heaven’s sake let not that day pass unimproved:  trust not till tomorrow, it is the cheat of life —­the future that never comes—­the grave of many noble births —­the cavern of ruined enterprise:  which like the lightning’s flash is born, and dies, and perishes, ere the voice of him who sees can cry, behold!  Behold!!  You may trust to what I say, no power shall tempt me to betray confidence.  Suffer me to add one word more.

I will soothe thee, in all thy grief,

Beside the gloomy river;

And though thy love may yet be brief;

Mine is fixed forever.

Receive the deepest emotions of my heart for thy constant love, and may the power of inspiration by thy guide, thy portion, and thy all.  In great haste,

Yours faithfully,

Ambulinia.

“I now take my leave of you, sweet girl,” said Louisa, “sincerely wishing you success on Sabbath next.”  When Ambulinia’s letter was handed to Elfonzo, he perused it without doubting its contents.  Louisa charged him to make but few confidants; but like most young men who happened to win the heart of a beautiful girl, he was so elated with the idea that he felt as a commanding general on parade, who had confidence in all, consequently gave orders to all.  The appointed Sabbath, with a delicious breeze and cloudless sky, made its appearance.  The people gathered in crowds to the church —­the streets were filled with neighboring citizens, all marching to the house of worship.  It is entirely useless for me to attempt to describe the feelings of Elfonzo and Ambulinia, who were silently watching the movements of the multitude, apparently counting