Aunt and niece regarded each other silently. The call of youth to youth, and we name it love for want of something better: a glamorous, evanescent thing "like snow upon the desert's dusty face, lighting a little hour or two, was gone. You came to me, you wished me to speak to Anna. E. But such was the violence of his grief,—such the compunction he exhibited, that all but one looked on with an eye of compassion. "Good bye, Jack! Keep up your spirits. I’d only have to do something about it, and that I can’t.
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