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?©, Lyda Farrington

"We Ten Or, The Story of the Roses"

But with all the trying, it is
_very_ hard to say truthfully that I am thankful for my creation. I have
never spoken of this to Nannie, but perhaps, with that quick intuition
which makes her such a blessing to us, she guesses it; for only last
Sunday, in church, when we came to that part in the General
Thanksgiving, she snuggled closer to me as we knelt, and gave my hand a
quick, warm little squeeze, as if to tell me that she was glad of my
"creation and preservation."
Nannie comforts me more than I can ever express to her; she has many a
time given me courage when my spirits were at a very low ebb.


XI.
AN AFTERNOON RECEPTION.
TOLD BY FELIX.

Though I felt all right the next day, to please nurse I did not get up;
but on Wednesday I did. At first my legs were very shaky, even for me:
my cane was not enough; I had to hold on to the furniture besides to
make my way about the room. But gradually that wore away, and by
afternoon I was quite as well as usual; so on Thursday we went to the
reception in the order first planned.
The Blackwoods live in a large old house, and by the time we got
there--we were rather late--the parlours were quite crowded.


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