As I am where I
am by my own act, I will not complain, and yet, I have felt it hard
to be cut off from all the sympathy and kind interest of my
friends--to have no word from home--to feel that none cares for me.
I know that I have offended both my father and grandfather past
forgiveness, and my mind is made up to seek for no reconciliation
with them. I cannot stoop to that. I have too much of the blood of
the Loftons in my veins.
"But why write this to you, Jenny? You will hardly understand how
such feelings can govern any heart--your own is so gentle and
innocent in all of its impulses. I have other things to say to you!
Since our meeting I have never ceased to think of you! I need no
picture of your face, for I see it ever before me as distinctly as
if sketched by the painter's art. I sometimes ask myself
wonderingly, how it is that you, a simple country maiden, could, in
one or two brief meetings, have made so strong an impression upon
me? But, you bore my mother's name, and your face was like her dear
face. Moreover, the beauty of goodness was in your countenance, and
a sphere of innocence around you; and I had not strayed so far from
virtue's paths as to be insensible to these.
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