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Richardson, John, 1796-1852

"Wacousta : a tale of the Pontiac conspiracy (Complete)"

He smiled one of his then
damnable soft smiles of assent, and here the conversation
terminated, and he left me.
"The next day saw me again at the side of your mother,
who received me with the same artless demonstrations of
affection. There was a mellowed softness in her countenance,
and a tender languor in her eye, I had not remarked the
preceding day. Then there was more of the vivacity and
playfulness of the young girl; now, more of the deep
fervour and the composed serenity of the thoughtful woman.
This change was too consonant to my taste--too flattering
to my self-love--not to be rejoiced in; and as I pressed
her yielding form in silent rapture to my own, I more
than ever felt she was indeed the being for whom my
glowing heart had so long yearned. After the first full
and unreserved interchange of our souls' best feelings,
our conversation turned upon lighter topics; and I took
an opportunity to produce the fruit of my application
since we had parted. Never shall I forget the surprise
and delight that animated her beautiful countenance when
first she gazed upon the miniature. The likeness was
perfect, even to the minutest shading of her costume;
and so forcibly and even childishly did this strike her,
that it was with difficulty I could persuade her she was
not gazing on some peculiar description of mirror that
reflected back her living image.


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