"
As the others were engaged in very earnest conversation at the time, and
I was reading, he probably expected to be heard only by her to whom he
addressed himself; but a little romance, such as that of Annie and Mr.
Arlington, acted before me, interests me far more than any book, and I
brought a bright blush to Annie's cheek and a conscious smile to his
lip, by asking, "Where did you find those very apposite lines? I do not
remember to have seen them."
"Probably not, as they have never been published. They were addressed by
Anthony Bleecker, of New-York, to a belle of his day, and the lady for
whose sake, it is whispered, he lived and died a bachelor."
Our colloquy was here interrupted by Robert Dudley, who wanted to know
if we were to have no story this evening. Robert was a great lover of
stories. "Ask Mr. Arlington, Robert," said I, "I have given three
stories to his one already."
"Aunt Nancy," said Mr. Arlington, who had already begun to give me the
affectionate cognomen by which I was always addressed at Donaldson
Manor, "Aunt Nancy has stories without number, written and ready for
demand, but my portfolio furnishes only rude pencilings, or at best a
crayon sketch.
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