The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold. Only it was with a further and most unbelieving shrug of the shoulders that he resumed his seat. In spite of all this, he grew daily better and stronger, and his spirits revived. His face was downcast. Believe me, it will be better by far that you should consent to marry me. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband.
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