"Still o'er these scenes my memory wakes, And fondly broods with miser care."
"DEAREST DONALD,
I received your kind letter. That you are doing well,and saving money for the purpose you speak of, it is pleasant to hear.That you still love me is what is dearest to my heart. I may confessin this letter what I could scarcely ever say in your presence, thatI think of you always. All our old walks are eloquent of the calm andhappy past. When I sit beneath the tree where I first learned that youcared for me, my thoughts go back, and I can almost hear the tones ofyour voice. I feel lonely sometimes. Your letters are a great solace. IfI feel a little sad I go to my room, and unburden my heart to Him who isnot indifferent even to the sparrow's fall. Sometimes the woods seemmournful, and when the wind, in these autumn evenings, wails through thepines, I don't know how it is, but I feel tears in my eyes.
"And now, Donald, what I am going to tell you will surprise you. We aregoing away to Springfield, in Massachusetts. A little property has beenleft father there, and he is going to live upon it. Location does notaffect feeling. My heart is yours wherever I may be.
"God bless you, dearest.
"Your own
"MINNIE."
Donald read this letter thoughtfully.
"My father going to the bad, and Minnie going away," he muttered.
He rose from his seat, and walked the narrow room in which he lodged.
"I will go home," he said.