"Here's a letter for Mrs. Moreland; I saw it in the post-office, and brought it over for her, as I was coming this way."
"Come in, come in," said Moreland, with a hearty welcome in his voice.
"No, I thank you, I can't stop now. Good evening," replied the neighbor.
"Good evening," responded Moreland, turning from the door, and handing the letter to Jane.
"It must be from Ellen," Mrs. Moreland remarked, as she broke the seal. "It is a long time since we heard from then; I wonder how they are doing."
She soon knew; for on opening the letter she read thus:—
SAVANNAH, September, 18—.
MY DEAR SISTER JANE:—Henry has just died. I am left here without a dollar, and know not where to get bread for myself and two children. I dare not tell you all I have suffered since I parted from you. I——
My heart is too full; I cannot write. Heaven only knows what I shall do! Forgive me, sister, for troubling you; I have not done so before, because I did not wish to give you pain, and I only do so now, from an impulse that I cannot resist.
ELLEN.