Tales for Fifteen, or, Imagination and Heart by James Fenimore Cooper
page 16 of 196 (08%)
page 16 of 196 (08%)
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"Acquaintance, aunt!" echoed the niece with displeasure. "Do not, I entreat you, call Anna an acquaintance merely. She is my friend--my very best friend, and I love her as such." "Thank you, my dear," said the aunt dryly. "Oh! I mean nothing disrespectful to yourself, dear aunt," continued Julia. "You know how much I owe to you, and ought to know that I love you as a mother." "And would you prefer Miss Miller to a mother, then?" "Surely not in respect, in gratitude, in obedience; but still I may love her, you know. Indeed, the feelings are so very different, that they do not at all interfere with each other--in my heart at least." "No!" said Miss Emmerson, with a little curiosity--"I wish you would try and explain this difference to me, that I may comprehend the distinctions that you are fond of making." "Why, nothing is easier, dear aunt!" said Julia with animation. "You I love because you are kind to me, attentive to my wants, considerate for my good; affectionate, and--and--from habit--and you are my |
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