And this, I hear you say, my reader, is the awakening of a love dream so powerful as to undermine the health of the sleeper—­so dark as to cast a terror and a gloom upon many who loved her; it is even so in life, and would you have it otherwise?  Do you commend that morbid affection which clings to its object not only through sorrow, but sin? through sorrow—­but not in sin.  Nor is it possible for a pure-minded woman to love unworthily and continue pure.

This Alice felt, and she came forth from her struggle stronger and more holy; prizing above all earthly things the friends who had thus cleared for her her pathway, and turning with a sister’s love, which was all indeed she had ever known, to that one who, far away, would yet win with his unchanging affection her heart to his own.

Walter Lee’s case was an illustration of the fact that many young men are led into dissipation simply from the want of proper occupation.  There was in him no love of vice for itself; but disappointed in securing Alice’s consent to his addresses, and feeling self-condemned in the effort to win her affections from Arthur, he sought forgetfulness in dissipation and excitement.  He fancied he would find happiness in the ball-room, the theatre, the midnight revel, and at the gambling table.  Have you not met in the changing society of a large city, one whose refined and gentle manners told of the society of a mother, a sister, or of some female friend whose memory, like an angel’s wing, was still hovering around him?  Have you not pitied him when you reflected that he was alone, far away from such good influences?  Have you not longed to say to him, I wish I could be to you what she has been, and warn you of the rocks and quicksands against which you may be shipwrecked.

There were many who felt thus towards Walter; his strikingly handsome face and figure, his grace and intelligence, with a slight reserve that gave a charm to his manner.  To few was his history familiar; the world knew of his name, and to the world he was an object of importance, for gold stamps its owner with a letter of credit through life.

Walter launched into every extravagance that presented itself.  He was flattered, and invited to balls and parties; smiles met him at every step, and the allurements of the world dazzled him, as they had many a previous victim.  Sometimes, the thought of Alice in her purity and truth passed like a sunbeam over his heart; but its light was soon gone.  She was not for him; and why should he not seek, as others had done, to drown all care?  Then the thought of Cousin Janet, good and holy Cousin Janet, with her Bible in her hand, and its sacred precepts on her lips, would weigh like a mountain on his soul; but he had staked all for pleasure, and he could not lose the race.