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 Many a tedious year; come, give him thy hand and be happy! Thou art too fair to be left to braid St. Catherine's tresses.” Then would Evangeline answer, serenely but sadly,—“I cannot! Whither my heart has gone, there follows my hand, and not elsewhere. For when the heart goes before, like a lamp, and illumines the pathway, Many things are made clear, that else lie hidden in darkness.” And thereupon the priest, her friend and father-confessor, Said, with a smile,—“O daughter! thy God thus speaketh within thee! Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was wasted; If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters, returning