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Richardson, John, 1796-1852

"Hardscrabble; or, the fall of Chicago. a tale of Indian warfare"

"
"It is for that very reason that I do ask it," returned
the youth. "Should Heaven deprive you of the one, as it
in some degree threatens you with the loss of the other,
what shall so well console you as the tenderness of him
who is blessed with your love?"
"Hush, Harry," and she fondly pressed his arm--"they will
hear you."
They had now approached the scow, into which the men,
having previously deposited the furniture and trunks,
were preparing to embark the litter upon which Mrs.
Heywood lay extended, with an expression of resignation
and repose upon her calm features, that touched the hearts
of even these rude men. Her daughter, half-reproaching
herself for not having personally attended to her transport,
and only consoled by the recollection of the endearing
explanation with her lover, which had chanced to result
from her absence, now tenderly inquired how she had borne
it, and was deeply gratified to find that the change of
air, and gentle exercise to which she had been subjected,
had somewhat restored her. Here was one source of care
partly removed, and she felt, if possible, increased
affection for the youth to whose considerate attention
was owing this favorable change in the condition of a
parent, whom she had ever fondly loved.


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