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Tales for Fifteen, or, Imagination and Heart by James Fenimore Cooper
page 16 of 196 (08%)

"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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