It is Mrs. V----.
_Laurie._ I remember with what interest you mentioned her in your
letters. And you promised to tell me her true story.
_Aglauron._ I was much interested, then, both in her and her
story, But, last winter, when I met her at the South, she had altered,
and seemed so much less attractive than before, that the bright colors
of the picture are well-nigh effaced.
_Laurie._ The pleasure of telling the story will revive them
again. Let us fasten our horses and go into this little wood. There is
a seat near the lake which is pretty enough to tell a story upon.
_Aglauron._ In all the idyls I ever read, they were told in
caves, or beside a trickling fountain.
_Laurie._ That was in the last century. We will innovate. Let us
begin that American originality we were talking about, and make the
bank of a lake answer our purpose.
* * * * *
We dismounted accordingly, but, on reaching the spot, Aglauron at
first insisted on lying on the grass, and gazing up at the clouds in a
most uncitizen-like fashion, and it was some time before we could get
the promised story. At last,--
* * * * *
I first saw Mrs.
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