"Nothing shall ever be changed
in your room," he said, "it is always your room--it is always my
sister's room. Shall it not be so, Laura?" and Laura said, "Yes!"
Among the widow's papers was found a packet, marked by the widow
"Letters from Laura's father," and which Arthur gave to her. They were
the letters which had passed between the cousins in the early days
before the marriage of, either of them. The ink was faded in which
they were written: the tears dried out that both perhaps had shed over
them: the grief healed now whose bitterness they chronicled: the
friends doubtless united whose parting on earth had caused to both
pangs so cruel. And Laura learned fully now for the first time what
the tie was which had bound her so tenderly to Helen: how faithfully
her more than mother had cherished her father's memory, how truly she
had loved him, how meekly resigned him.
One legacy of his mother's Pen remembered, of which Laura could have
no cognizance. It was that wish of Helen's to make some present to
Fanny Bolton; and Pen wrote to her, putting his letter under an
envelope to Mr.
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