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Alcott, Louisa May, 1832-1888

"On Picket Duty, and Other Tales"

As the thunder-clap ceased,
the gale began and blew steadily for several minutes.
"You think it a joke, do you? I tell you, it's a wicked, cruel
thing; you've told a lie; you've broken August's heart, and made me
so angry that I'll never forgive you as long as I live. What do you
know about my feelings? and how dare you take it upon yourself to
answer for me? You think because we are the same age that I am no
older than you, but you're mistaken, for a boy of eighteen _is_ a
boy, a girl is often a woman, with a woman's hopes and plans; you
don't understand this any more than you do August's love for me,
which you listened to and laughed at. I said I didn't like him, and
I didn't find out till afterward that I did; then I was afraid to
tell you lest you'd twit me with it. But now I care for no one, and
I say I do like him,--yes, I love him with all my heart and soul and
might and I'd die this minute if I could undo the harm you've done,
and see him happy. I know I've been selfish, vain, and thoughtless,
but I am not now; I hoped he'd love me, hoped he'd see I cared for
him, that I'd done trifling, and didn't mind if he _was_ poor, for
I'd enough for both; that I longed to make his life pleasant after
all his troubles; that I'd send for the little sister he loves so
well, and never let him suffer any more; for he is so good, so
patient, so generous, and dear to me, I cannot do enough for him.
Now it's all spoilt; now I can never tell him this, never comfort
him in any way, never be happy again all my life, and you have done
it.


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