“How’s Mrs. “MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again. "I am no man's mistress," answered the widow, crimsoning to her temples, but preserving her meek deportment, and humble tone. To return was impossible,—to raise himself certain destruction. " "Are you a nurse?" "Yes.
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