of joy bore away my thoughts.  I gazed, and continued to gaze upon the object, throwing, as it were, new passion into my soul.  But it turned, and there was a changed face, a face more lovely, looking eagerly into a book.  Looking eagerly into a book did not betray one who could not read.  But there was that in my heart that prompted me to look on the favorable side of the doubt-to try a different expedient in gaining admittance to the house.  When night came, I assumed a dress those who look on mechanics as vulgar people, would have said became a gentleman; and approaching the house, gained easy admittance.  As I was about entering the great parlors, a familiar but somewhat changed voice at the top of the circling stairs that led from the hall caught my ear.  I paused, listened, became entranced with suspense.  Again it resounded-again my heart throbbed with joy.  It was Anna’s voice, so soft and musical.  The woman who opened the door turned from me, and attempted to hush it.  But Anna seemed indifferent to the admonition, for she tripped buoyantly down stairs, accompanying a gentleman to the door.  I stood before her, a changed person.  Her recognition of me was instantaneous.  Her color changed, her lips quivered, her eyes filled with tears, her very soul seemed fired with emotions she had no power to resist.  ‘George Mullholland!’ she exclaimed, throwing her arms about my neck, kissing me, and burying her head in my bosom, and giving vent to her feelings in tears and quickened sobs-’how I have thought of you, watched for you, and hoped for the day when we would meet again and be happy.  Oh, George!  George! how changed everything seems since we parted!  It seems a long age, and yet our sufferings, and the fondness for each other that was created in that suffering, freshens in the mind.  Dear, good George-my protector!’ she continued, clinging to me convulsively.  I took her in my arms (the scene created no little excitement in the house) and bore her away to her chamber, which was chastely furnished, displaying a correct taste, and otherwise suited to a princess.  Having gained her presence of mind, and become calm, she commenced relating what had occurred since we parted at Scorpion Cove.  I need not relate it at length here, for it was similar in character to what might be told by a thousand others if they were not powerless.  For months she had been confined to the house, her love of dress indulged to the furthest extent, her mind polluted and initiated into the mysteries of refined licentiousness, her personal appearance scrupulously regarded, and made to serve the object of which she was a victim in the hands of the hostess, who made her the worse than slave to a banker of great respectability in Wall street.  This good man and father was well down in the vale of years, had a mansion on Fifth Avenue, and an interesting and much-beloved family.  He was, in addition, a prominent member of the commercial community; but his example to those more ready to imitate the errors of men in high positions, than to improve by the examples of the virtuous poor, was not what it should be.  Though a child of neglect, and schooled to licentiousness under the very eye of a generous community, her natural sensibility recoiled at the thought that she was a mere object of prey to the passions of one she could not love.