Withered Leaves from Memory's Garland by Abigail Stanley Hanna
page 80 of 371 (21%)
page 80 of 371 (21%)
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was soon lost from sight among the trees.
Annie soon reached her uncle's, where she met with a cordial reception, and she felt that she had learned a salutary lesson from the poor lunatic. The next afternoon, she and her cousin Edith wandered forth into an adjoining field, to enjoy a stroll beneath the cloudless sky, and inhale the sweet breath of autumn, which was borne upon the gentle gales. Nature was at rest. No stormy wind ruffled her bosom or agitated its surface. Her rich store of fruits lay spread out in great abundance, and the whitened fields stood ready for the harvest. They conversed upon indifferent subjects till they came to a little silver stream, threading its silent way through the silken grass. They crossed and seating themselves beneath the shade of a thrifty apple tree, picked up some of the delicious fruit that lay scattered in rich profusion around them. "O, Annie, I forgot to tell you I received a visit from Dora, yesterday; she is very unhappy on account of Charles Stanley's conduct. She did not wish to go to the ball, on account of her father's death, and he waited upon Eveline Houghton--then left for Turner without calling to see Dora." "Indeed, I thought they were to be married this fall?" "Such has been the report; but as she has not seen or heard from him since, she does not know how to construe his conduct towards her." "When Orville was returning from his eastern tour, he came across |
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