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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Mary Marston"

For what is done is
done, in small faults as well as in murders; and, as nothing can
recall it, or make it not be, where can be the good in thinking
about it?--a reasoning worse than dangerous, before one has left
off being capable of the same thing over again. Still, in the
mere absence of renewed offense, it is well that some shadow of
peace should return; else how should men remember the face of
innocence? or how should they live long enough to learn to
repent? But for such breaks, would not some grow worse at full
gallop?
That the idea of Tom's friendship was very pleasant to her, who
can blame her? He had never said he loved her; he had only said
she was lovely: was she therefore bound to persuade herself he
meant nothing at all? Was it not as much as could be required of
her, that, in her modesty, she took him for no more than a true,
kind friend, who would gladly be of service to her? Ah! if Tom
had but been that! If he was not, he did not know it, which is
something to say both for and against him. It could not be other
than pleasant to Letty to have one, in her eyes so superior, who
would talk to her as an equal. It was not that ever she resented
being taught; but she did get tired of lessons only, beautiful as
they were. A kiss from Mrs. Wardour, or a little teasing from
Cousin Godfrey, would have done far more than all his
intellectual labor upon her to lift her feet above such snares as
she was now walking amid.


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