The tone of this letter was as cheerful and as hopeful as it
was possible for the young man to write. But, as yet, he had found
no employment. A week elapsed before another came. It opened in
these words:--
"MY DEAR, DEAR AGNES! Hopeless of doing anything here, I have turned
my thoughts once more to the land of promise; and, when you receive
this, I will be on my journey thitherward. Brief, very brief, I
trust, will be our separation. The moment I obtain employment, I
will send for you, and then our re-union will take place with a
fulness of delight such as we have not yet experienced."
Long, tender, and hopeful was the letter; but it brought a burden of
grief and heart-sickness to the tender young creature, who felt
almost as if she had been deserted by the one who was dear to her as
her own life.
Only a few days had Edward Marvel been at sea, when he became
seriously indisposed, and, for the remaining part of the voyage, was
so ill as to be unable to rise from his berth. He had embarked in a
packet ship from Liverpool bound for New York, where he arrived, at
the expiration of five weeks. Then he was removed to the sick wards
of the hospital on Staten Island, and it was the opinion of the
physicians there that he would die.
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