And this is love--they loved!
They loved, but the discovery was yet to be made by them. Living in its
purest luxuries--in the perpetual communion of the only one necessary
object--having no desire and as little prospect of change--ignorant of
and altogether untutored by the vicissitudes of life--enjoying the sweet
association which had been the parent of that passion, dependent now
entirely upon its continuance--they had been content, and had never
given themselves any concern to analyze its origin, or to find for it a
name. A momentary doubt--the presages of a dim perspective--would have
taught them better. Had there been a single moment of discontent in
their lives at this period, they had not remained so long in such
ignorance. The fear of its loss can alone teach us the true value of our
treasure. But the discovery was at hand.
A pleasant spring afternoon in April found the two young people, Ralph
and Edith--the former now twenty years of age, and the latter in the
same neighborhood, half busied, half idle, in the long and spacious
piazza of the family mansion.
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