"I came this day to plead my cause at your feet, but was cruelly denied
the privilege of seeing you. My mind is all anarchy and confusion. My
soul is harrowed up with jealousy. I will be revenged on those who
separate us, if that distracting event take place. But it is from your
lips only that I can hear my sentence. You must witness its effects. To
what lengths my despair may carry me I know not. You are the arbitress
of my fate.

"Let me conjure you to meet me in your garden to-morrow at any hour you
shall appoint. My servant will call for an answer in the morning. Deny
me not an interview, but have pity on your faithful SANFORD."

I wrote for answer that I would meet him to-morrow, at five o'clock in
the afternoon.

I have now before me another night for consideration, and shall pass it
in that employment. I purpose not to see Mr. Boyer till I have conversed
with Major Sanford.

_Thursday morning_.--The morning dawns, and ushers in the day--a day,
perhaps, big with the fate of your friend. What that fate may be is
wrapped in the womb of futurity--that futurity which a kind Providence
has wisely concealed from the penetration of mortals.

After mature consideration, after revolving and re-revolving every
circumstance on both sides of the question, I have nearly determined, in
compliance with the advice of my friends and the dictates of my own
judgment, to give Mr. Boyer the preference, and with him to tread the
future round of life.