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Caswell, H. S. (Harriet S.), 1834-

"Or, Memories of the Past"

I can tell you, Walter, my sin did
not go unpunished; for, inconsistent as my conduct has been, I loved
Joshua Blake with a deep affection, and when my tortured mind pictured
him as a wandering exile from his home, through my absurd and foolish
conduct, you may be sure he did not suffer alone. And if I hadn't turned
kind of cross and crusty, I am afraid I should have gone crazy, and it
was certainly better to be cross than crazy. That is twenty-five years
ago. As I was employed in the garden one morning a few weeks ago, an
acquaintance from the village passing by said to me: 'Have you heard
the news, Miss Adams, that has almost turned every one's head over at
Fulton: Joshua Blake, whom every one had given up for dead years ago,
has come home.' I grew cold as ice, and I never could tell how I reached
the house. I could hardly believe it, and yet something told me it was
true, and that very evening he came over here; but, instead of the youth
who went away, I saw, a middle-aged man with gray-hair, which Nathan
said was an improvement, allowing that some gray looked better than all
red.


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