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was young again with excitement, interest, eagerness, anticipation. They
reached the town and the hotel. My mother strode with the same eagerness
in her eye and her step, to the counter, and said:
"
"
"
"
Is Dr. Barrett of St. Louis, here?"
No. He was here, but he returned to St. Louis this morning."
Will he come again?"
No."
My mother turned away, the fire all gone from her, and said, "Let us go
home."
They went straight back to Keokuk. My mother sat silent and thinking
for many days--a thing which had never happened before. Then one day she
said:
"I will tell you a secret. When I was eighteen, a young medical student
named Barrett lived in Columbia (Ky.) eighteen miles away; and he used
to ride over to see me. This continued for some time. I loved him with
my whole heart, and I knew that he felt the same toward me, though no
words had been spoken. He was too bashful to speak--he could not do it.
Everybody supposed we were engaged--took it for granted we were--but we
were not. By and by there was to be a party in a neighboring town, and
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