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Various

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

I
have since discovered that all such epistles have their real meaning
concealed in some kind of more rarefied sympathetic ink, which betrays
itself only under the burning hands of a lover.
"So, then," said Aunt Linny, as she was sealing this letter, "you see,
Katy, that your romance has come to an untimely end."
I turned round her averted face with both my hands, and looked in her
eyes till she blushed and laughed in spite of herself.
"My knowledge of symptoms is not large," said I, "but I have a
conviction that his health will now endure a northern climate."
"Let's talk no more of this!" said she, putting me aside with a gentle
gravity, which checked my nonsense. But as I was unable to detect in
her, on this or the following day, the slightest depression of
spirits, I shrewdly guessed that our anticipations of the result were
not very dissimilar.
The next return post brought, not the expected letter, but our hero
himself. I was really amazed at the change in his appearance. Erect,
elastic, his face radiant with expression, he looked years younger
than at his first arrival.


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