“You know I have great confidence in Sister Serena’s sagacity, and during the past fortnight she has talked frequently with me on the subject of the prisoner.  When she undertook to nurse the poor child, she too considered her guilty of the unnatural crime; but by degrees she began to doubt it.  About ten days ago, she says she went to the penitentiary, and found the prisoner reading a Bible which she had borrowed from the gaoler’s wife.  She asked her if she would like her to offer up a prayer, in her behalf, and they knelt down side by side.  Sister Serena prayed that God would melt her heart if she was guilty, and help her to repent.  While they were still on their knees, Sister Serena put one arm around her and said: 

“’God knows whether you are the criminal; and if so, let me beg of you to make a full confession; it will unload your conscience, and may be the means of arousing more sympathy in the public heart.’  She says that the poor girl looked at her a moment so reproachfully, and answered:  ’When we meet in heaven, you will understand how cruelly your words hurt me.  I know that appearances are hopelessly against me, and I expect to die; but I am so innocent, I keep my soul close to God, for He who knows the truth, will help me to bear man’s injustice.’  Then she prayed aloud for herself, that she might endure patiently and meekly an awful punishment which she did not deserve; and while she prayed, her countenance was so pure, so angelic, and there was such unmistakable fervor and sincerity in her petition, that Sister Serena says she could not help bursting into tears, and she actually begged the girl’s pardon for having doubted her innocence.  She has fallen completely in love with the poor young creature, and tells me she finds her wonderfully talented and cultivated.  This morning she showed me some of the most beautiful designs for decorating our altar on Christmas, which the prisoner sketched for her.  She cut all the models for her, and gave her such lovely suggestions, and when Sister Serena thanked her, she says the most touching smile she ever saw came into that child’s face, as she answered:  ’I ought to thank you for the privilege of decorating my Savior’s altar, at the last Christmas I shall spend on earth.  Next year, I shall spend Jesus’ birthday with Him.’  I felt so uncomfortable when I heard all that passed between her and Sister Serena, that I could not be easy until I had seen for myself; and as Sister Serena was going over to carry some letters to be painted and gilded, I went with her.  I have seen her, and talked with her, and I pity the hard, bitter, unregenerate and vindictive heart of the man who is prosecuting her for murder.  I do not believe that in all the world, Mr. Dunbar can find twelve men idiotic and vicious enough to convict that beautiful orphan girl; and his failure will do as little credit to his intellect, as success would to his moral nature.”

“While I prefer to exclude Mr. Dunbar’s name from our discussions, I think it merely bare justice to the absent, to assure you that he desires her conviction even less than you or I; and will do all in his power to avert it.  I feel more interest in this matter than you can possibly realize, and, believing her innocent, I will befriend her to the last extremity.  Did Sister Serena succeed in fitting the black dress I sent?”