“Since writing this, I have seen a young man who knew her husband.  He says, that after the failure of a house in which Wilmer was employed, he went to Baltimore and took Constance with him.  He says, he knows this to be so, because he was well acquainted with Wilmer, and shook hands with him on the steamboat when he went away.  I hinted to him what I had heard about Wilmer’s leaving her.  He repelled the insinuation with warmth, and said, that he, Wilmer, would have died rather than cause Constance a painful feeling—­that she certainly did go with him, for when he parted with Wilmer, Constance was leaning on his arm.  He says, she looked pale and troubled; and mentioned that they had with them a sweet little baby.  Oh, how my heart yearns after my child!

“I have since learned the name of the firm in Baltimore in whose employment he was, shortly after he went there.  To-morrow morning I shall go to that city.  You shall hear from me on my arrival.”

Nearly a week passed before Mrs. Jackson received further intelligence from her husband.  I will not attempt to describe her feelings during that long time.  In suffering or joy we discover how relative and artificial are all our ideas of time.

The next letter ran thus:—­

“Here I am in Baltimore, but it seems no nearer finding our child than when I was in New York.  The firm in whose employment Wilmer was shortly after his arrival in Baltimore, has been dissolved some years; and I am told that neither of the partners is now in this city.  I have not been able to learn the name of a single clerk who was in their store.  I feel disheartened, yet more eager every day to find our lost one.  Where can she be?

“A day more has passed since my arrival here, and I have a little hope.  I have found one of his former fellow-clerks.  He says, that he thinks Wilmer is still in town.  I do not want to advertise for him, if I can help it, but shall do so before I leave the city, if other means fail.  This young man tells me, that when he knew him he had three children.  He never saw our Constance.  He represents Wilmer as having been in bad health, and as generally appearing dejected.  He says, all his furniture was once seized and sold by the sheriff for rent, but that it was redeemed next day by his employers, who treated him very kindly on the occasion.  I have heard nothing of the poor boy that has not prepossessed me in his favour.  I fear he has had a hard time of it.  How much happiness have we lost—­how much misery have we occasioned!—­Surely we have lived in vain all our lives!  I feel more humbled every day since I left home.