show contrition for your neglect of religion heretofore, while I am often hardhearted, and have been sensible that I did not always feel as a christian should towards those who still dwell in the darkness of sin. But here is my home—"
"This then is your house? Ah! madam, after listening to your blessed counsels thus far, can I—must I part so very soon? I fear to go back into the world—my faith is weak, and some few more explanations that I desire—"
"Is it even so, young gentleman? Then, in God's name, walk into my poor tenement, I see that Nancy is still up, and if she were not, God forbid that I should deny any one who comes to me in the name of my Saviour! And may the opportunity be blessed alike to the strengthening of your faith and of mine, for I need it equally with yourself. Walk in."
Burr entered the humble domain of Mrs. Keating, which he found very neat and clean. A large over-grown girl of some eighteen years, was snoring melodiously on a settee, while the candle was flaming in the socket on the mantle-piece.
"Nancy! Nancy?" cried the lady of the house.
No answer. Nancy was in the land of dreams, perhaps toying with her beau, and could not think of leaving such good company to return to the world of cold realities.
"Let her sleep. She is tired no doubt," said the lady, putting a fresh candle in the place of the one that had burned out.
The conversation was renewed. Burr led the way to such topics as were of a melting, soul-subduing character, and ingeniously interwove his religious aspirations with half disguised compliments to the widow herself. Her countenance glowed with feeling, and her lovely bosom rose and fell while Burr talked, and darted into her eyes the tremendous magnetic influence which shot from his own whenever he chose to launch his lightnings at the female heart.
In the midst of their discourse, the sleeping Nancy awoke, sat up on end, glared wildly about her, and perceiving that Mrs. Keating had company, lighted a candle, and staggered off to bed in an upper chamber.
Burr and the lady were now left alone; and by stealthy approaches he had at length succeeded in convincing the lady that he loved her with a pure, exalted passion, at the same time that they were fellow-travelers on the road to Zion.
The young widow possessed warm and tender feelings: her husband had been taken sick before the honey-moon was in its wane, and for a whole year she had not even received a kiss from one of the opposite sex. Her feelings rose higher and higher, till the swelling tide had began to overwhelm her reason. Burr's arm was already around her
