I sighed when I thought of the years when we had been comparatively so far apart, and my heart grew to his with tender adhesiveness and growing love.

The affections, which my worldly step-mother had chilled and repressed, and which the death of his other children had blighted, were now all mine, renovated and warmed.
"Oh, Gabriella! very precious is a father's love.

It is an emblem of the love of God for the dependent beings he has created; so kind, so protecting, so strong, and yet so tender! Would to God, my poor, defrauded child, you could have known what this God-resembling love is,--but your orphanage has been the most sad, the most dreary,--the most unhallowed.

Almighty Father of the universe, have mercy on my child! Protect and bless her when this wasting, broken heart no longer beats; when the frail shield of a mother's love is taken from her, and she is left _alone_--_alone_--_alone_.

Oh! my God, have pity--have pity! Forsake her not!" The paper was blistered with the tears of the writer.