Indeed she had to endure not a
little chaffing, for her mistake was a family joke now.
It was a peerless Thanksgiving eve and day--one of the sun-lighted
heights of human happiness.
After dinner they all again took a walk up the brawling stream,
and Stanhope and Elsie became separated from the rest, though not
so innocently as on the former occasion.
"See!" cried Elsie, pointing to the well-remembered sapling, which
she had often visited. "There fluttered our flag of truce last
year."
Stanhope seized her hand and said eagerly: "And here I again break
the truce, and renew the theme we dropped at this place. Oh,
Elsie, I have felt that kiss in the depths of my heart every hour
since; and in that it led to my knowing and loving you, it has
made every day from that time one of thanksgiving. If you could
return my love, as I have dared to hope, it would be a happiness
beyond words. If I could venture to take one more kiss, as a token
that it is returned, I could keep Thanksgiving forever."
Her hand trembled in his, but was not withdrawn.
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