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Rh Lucy was delighted with the strangers. She had too little society not to enjoy the prospect of such an addition to their household circle during the dull and dreary winter; besides, there is a readiness of attachment in youth—the fresh and unused heart is so alive to the kindlier impressions. Pass but a few, a very few years, and we shall marvel how we ever could have found love enough for the many objects which were once so dear!

When Lucy left the room, both were warm in her praise. Ah! that exaggeration of liking—that readiness to like—that taking for granted all imaginable good qualities—to what a joyous time, to what a buoyant and happy state of feeling, does it belong! Their young hostess was so fair—so delicate, with her golden hair only visible beneath the snow-white cap, just where it parted on the forehead. There would have been something childlike in the pure skin and small features, but for the deep and melancholy blue eyes; and in them was a thoughtful sadness, never yet seen in the clear orbs of childhood. There was a tone, too, of pastoral poetry shed over the new scenes to which they were just introduced, that had a greater effect from the contrast to those, artificial and crowded, which they had