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Richardson, John, 1796-1852

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


"What a nice little scene we might get up out of this
morning's adventure," said the ever gay Mrs. Elmsley, as
Waunangee, after having shaken hands with herself, departed
with Ronayne. "Really, my dear, he is a fine looking,
and certainly a warm-hearted fellow, that Wau--Wan--what's
his name, Maria?"
"Waunangee. I know not how it is, Margaret, or why--I
should attach so much importance to the thing, but if
ever those glimpses of the future, called presentiments,
had foundation in truth, that young Indian is destined
to exercise some sort of influence over my fate."
"You do not mean that he is to supplant Ronayne, I hope,"
returned her friend, trying to laugh her oat of the
serious mood, in which she seemed so much inclined to
indulge.
"How can you speak so, Margaret? No, my presentiment is
of a different character. But it is very foolish and
silly to allow the feeling to weigh with me. I will try
to think more rationally. Say nothing of this, however,
and least of all to Ronayne."
"Not a word, dearest. Good bye for the present. I must
look after the dinner.


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