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THE EVENING WALK.

found relief in tears; there was one passionate burst of sorrow, and then life became one uninteresting void. Here she still lives, and may, the shadow of her former self, be seen at times gliding amongst the scenes of her past happiness. She asks not for consolation; hers is a grief that admits not of it."

As the lady finished this melancholy recital, taking the arm of her companion, she rose to depart. Sad as had been the story she had related, she could have told a sadder.

Flora.

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