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Various

"The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 01, No. 2, December, 1857"

"You have forgotten one
great change, dear nephew," said he; "against that we could find no
insurance."
"How could I forget?" was the answer, in a low tone, full of feeling,
his own eyes filling with moisture. "My dear aunt! I shed many tears
with and for you, when I heard of her death." He looked extremely
amiable at this moment; I knew that I should love him.
My aunt smiled through her tears, and said, very sweetly, "The thought
of her should cheer, and not cloud our meeting. Her presence never
brought me sorrow, nor does her remembrance. Come, dear," she added,
cheerfully, taking the child's hand, "come in and rest your poor
little tired self. Kate, find the white kitten for her. A prettier one
you never saw in France or Cuba, Miss Carrie,--that's what papa calls
you, I suppose?"
"It used to be my name," said the little smiler; "but papa always
calls me Linny now, because he thinks it sweeter."
* * * * *
"What say you to the humming-bird now?" I whispered to my aunt, as we
were a moment alone in the tea-room.


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