Oh, tell me, ye strong spirits, or ye dark and fleeting clouds, that I yet have a friend." "A friend," said a low, whispering voice.

"I am thy unchanging, thy aged, and thy disappointed mother.

Why brandish in that hand of thine a javelin of pointed steel?
Why suffer that lip I have kissed a thousand times to equivocate?
My daughter, let these tears sink deep into thy soul, and no longer persist in that which may be your destruction and ruin.

Come, my dear child, retract your steps, and bear me company to your welcome home." Without one retorting word, or frown from her brow, she yielded to the entreaties of her mother, and with all the mildness of her former character she went along with the silver lamp of age, to the home of candor and benevolence.

Her father received her cold and formal politeness--"Where has Ambulinia been, this blustering evening, Mrs.Valeer ?" inquired he.