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. Juliet seized the portfolio from her father, and, with one bound, cleared the opposite doorway, and disappeared. "We have frightened your daughter away, Captain Whitmore," said the Colonel, glancing after the retreating figure of Juliet. "What made my young friend run from us?" "Oh, I have just found out the saucy jade is scribbling verses all over my paper; and she is afraid that I should tell you about it; and that aunt Dorothy would quiz her before these gentlemen." "I should like much to see a specimen of her poetry," said the Colonel. "Here are a few lines addressed to myself," said the proud father, handing them to his friend. "I was going to scold Julee for her folly; but, by Jove, Colonel, I could not bring my heart to do it after reading that!" The paper went round. It lingered longest in the hand of Anthony Hurdlestone. The lines possessed no particular merit. They were tender and affectionate, true to nature and nature's simplicity, and as he read and re-read them, it seemed as if the spirit of the author was in unison with his own. "Happy girl!" he thought, "who can thus feel towards and write of a father. How I envy you this blessed, holy affection!" He raised his eyes, and rose up in confusion, to be presented to Miss Whitmore. Juliet could scarcely be termed beautiful; but her person was very attractive. Her features were small, but belonged to none of the favored orders of female beauty; and her complexion was pallid, rendered more conspicuously so by the raven hair, that fell in long silken ringlets down her slender white throat, and spread like a dark veil round her elegant bust and shoulders. Her lofty brow was pure as marble, and marked by that high look of moral and intellectual power, before which mere physical beauty shrinks into insignificance. Soft pencilled eyebrows gave additional depth and lustre to a pair of the most lovely deep blue eyes that ever flashed from beneath a fringe of jet. There was an expression of tenderness almost amounting to sadness, in those sweet eyes; and when they were timidly raised to meet those of the young Anthony, a light broke upon his heart, which the storms and clouds of after-life could never again extinguish. "Miss Juliet, your father has been giving us a treat," said the Colonel. Poor Juliet turned first very red, and then very pale, and glanced reproachfully at the old man. "Nay, Miss Whitmore, you need not be ashamed of that which does
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