The
Capitalist, who for the most part keeps entirely to himself, seemed to
take an interest in it and joined the group in the parlor who were making
arrangements as to the details of the eventful expedition, which was very
soon to take place. The Young Girl was full of enthusiasm; she is one of
those young persons, I think, who are impressible, and of necessity
depressible when their nervous systems are overtasked, but elastic,
recovering easily from mental worries and fatigues, and only wanting a
little change of their conditions to get back their bloom and
cheerfulness. I could not help being pleased to see how much of the
child was left in her, after all the drudgery she had been through. What
is there that youth will not endure and triumph over? Here she was; her
story for the week was done in good season; she had got rid of her
villain by a new and original catastrophe; she had received a sum of
money for an extra string of verses,--painfully small, it is true, but it
would buy her a certain ribbon she wanted for the great excursion; and
now her eyes sparkled so that I forgot how tired and hollow they
sometimes looked when she had been sitting up half the night over her
endless manuscript.
The morning of the day we had looked forward to--promised as good an
evening as we could wish.
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