The Gilded Age


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maidenhood, or the mere natural, careless sweetness of childhood.  
If Laura at twelve was beginning to be a beauty, the thought of it had  
never entered her head. No, indeed. Her mind wad filled with more  
important thoughts. To her simple school-girl dress she was beginning to  
add those mysterious little adornments of ribbon-knots and ear-rings,  
which were the subject of earnest consultations with her grown friends.  
When she tripped down the street on a summer's day with her dainty hands  
propped into the ribbon-broidered pockets of her apron, and elbows  
consequently more or less akimbo with her wide Leghorn hat flapping down  
and hiding her face one moment and blowing straight up against her fore  
head the next and making its revealment of fresh young beauty; with all  
her pretty girlish airs and graces in full play, and that sweet ignorance  
of care and that atmosphere of innocence and purity all about her that  
belong to her gracious time of life, indeed she was a vision to warm the  
coldest heart and bless and cheer the saddest.  
Willful, generous, forgiving, imperious, affectionate, improvident,  
bewitching, in short--was Laura at this period. Could she have remained  
there, this history would not need to be written. But Laura had grown to  
be almost a woman in these few years, to the end of which we have now  
come--years which had seen Judge Hawkins pass through so many trials.  
When the judge's first bankruptcy came upon him, a homely human angel  
intruded upon him with an offer of $1,500 for the Tennessee Land. Mrs.  
Hawkins said take it. It was a grievous temptation, but the judge  
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57 58 59 60 61

Quick Jump
1 170 341 511 681