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Hanna, Abigail Stanley

"Withered Leaves from Memory's Garland"

But there was such an opposing current,
and such frequent bickerings between herself and husband, that they
caught the infection, and seemed to live only to torment each other.
"O," said Mrs. Benson one day, to her sister Sarah, who was spending
a, day with her, "this is the princely mansion father promised me, as
a reward for giving up all my cherished hopes. Poor William has lost
his dear mother, I hear."
"Yes, she died one day last week; she liked much where they lived, and
after William came into possession of his uncle's princely fortune,
her life was spent in ease and affluence. He is likely to become one
of the richest men in the country, and he is loved for his kindness
and respected for his virtues. Your marriage doomed him to celibacy."
A shade rested for a moment upon Mrs. Benson's brow, as she said,
"O, these dark brown years have brought no joy to me in their course.
How I have lived I scarcely know. How dim-sighted is human reason? The
poor William is now the rich man, and the rich Benson is the poor one.
Could father know the misery I have undergone, he would think his
comforts dearly purchased; but he is gone from earth, and I will not
reproache his memory; but, oh, it has been hard--very hard."
"But come, Sarah, come into this old room with me, and help me pack my
dried apple for market. Is'nt it nice? I took great pains with it, as
I wished it to fetch the first price in the market. I am going to get
me a new cheap calico dress.


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