"
"Lovely enthusiast!" cried Dunwoodie, "you know not yourself, nor me. It
is a woman, mild, gentle, and dependent as yourself, that my very
nature loves; deceive not yourself with visionary ideas of generosity,
which will only make me miserable."
"Farewell, Major Dunwoodie," said the agitated girl, pausing for a
moment to gasp for breath; "forget that you ever knew me--remember the
claims of your bleeding country; and be happy."
"Happy!" repeated the youthful soldier, bitterly, as he saw her light
form gliding through the gate of the lawn, and disappearing behind its
shrubbery, "Yes, I am happy, indeed!"
Throwing himself into the saddle, he plunged his spurs into his horse,
and soon overtook his squadron, which was marching slowly over the hilly
roads of the county, to gain the banks of the Hudson.
But painful as were the feelings of Dunwoodie at this unexpected
termination of the interview with his mistress, they were but light
compared with those which were experienced by the fond girl herself.
Frances had, with the keen eye of jealous love, easily detected the
attachment of Isabella Singleton to Dunwoodie. Delicate and retiring
herself, it never could present itself to her mind that this love had
been unsought. Ardent in her own affections, and artless in their
exhibition, she had early caught the eye of the young soldier; but it
required all the manly frankness of Dunwoodie to court her favor, and
the most pointed devotion to obtain his conquest.
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