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"Oh! colder than the wind that freezes

Founts, that but now in sunshine play'd,

Is that congealing pang which seizes

The trusting bosom when betray'd"--Moore

Four months had elapsed since the honey at Waltha every day The e was still the secret of Anna

and Sanderson The honeyed to a

week, but no suspicion had entered the minds of Mrs Moore or Mrs

Standish Tre fictitious

telegradon

Week after week, Anna had yielded to Sanderson's entreaties and kept

her e a secret from her mother At first he had sent her

reularity, but, lately, they had

begun to fall off, his letters were less frequent, shorter andthe youth out

of the girl and breaking her spirit She had grown to look like soreat sorrowful-eyed Madonna, and her beauty had in it el than of a woer she looked like one on whom the hand of death

had been laid

Her friends noticed this, but not her rossed with

her own privations, that she had no ti