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Warfield, Catherine A.

"Miriam Monfort A Novel"

I am probably destined to walk through life
alone, and, like many better women, to live for the good of others, in
self-defense, if for good at all. I shall never marry, Lieutenant
Raymond."
The hand that held mine, trembled slightly, relaxed, relinquished its
eager hold, and fell listlessly to his side. He believed me, evidently,
as I believed myself.
"I have loved you," he said, hoarsely, "far more than you will ever
understand. Do not forget me!"
"That is scarcely probable," I murmured; "but we shall meet again," and
I spoke cheerfully and aloud, "and under happier auspices, I trust. The
world is fair before you, Mr. Raymond; this much let me counsel, and the
counsel is drawn from experience: do not surrender your freedom too
lightly--it is a precious gift to man or woman, and those who drag
broken fetters wear woful hearts. Farewell!"
We left Saratoga on the following day. It was autumn when we reached our
home again--sad and strange September--my birth-month, and the grave of
many hopes. Mabel was well, and finely grown for a child of her years;
and the joy of seeing her, and holding her to my heart again, made me
oblivious of all else for a season. After our brief separation even, her
loveliness struck me afresh. How beautiful she was! not with the white
radiance of Evelyn, but lovely as a young May rose, blushing among its
leaves and peerless in grace, sweetness, and expression.


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