No one in the
room had the least idea what she meant when she rose from her chair and
said:
"Oh! friends, listen! here is a specimen of true love for you!"
"My dearest love, my heart's one treasure:
"It is no longer any use to try and put you out of my heart. I
have tried to do it as you wished, but I cannot. I love you, my
darling, and my love will not die, try as I may to kill it. You
thought I could forget you if I went among fresh scenes and new
faces; but it is not so--your dear face is ever before me.
Sleeping or waking, it is the same. I cannot live without you, my
dearest--"
"Augusta! Augusta! what are you doing? Is that your own letter you are
making public?"
The words cut the air like a flash of steel.
That word "Augusta" was reproof in itself, and Gussie felt it instantly,
and she shivered as she looked up and met the flashing eyes of her sister.
"No," she replied, her cheeks aflame, but angry spite dies hard, and she
smiled scornfully, as she added, "I was amusing the company with a specimen
of love-making that is rare outside of novels. It is your letter, I
believe.
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