As she was a rural heiress, she did not want for suitors. Many
advantageous offers were made her, but she refused them all. She
laughed at the pretended pangs of her admirers, and triumphed over
them with the caprice of buoyant youth and conscious beauty. With all
her apparent levity, however, could any one have read the story of her
heart, they might have traced in it some fond remembrance of her early
playmate, not so deeply graven as to be painful, but too deep to be
easily obliterated; and they might have noticed, amidst all her
gayety, the tenderness that marked her manner towards the mother of
Eugene. She would often steal away from her youthful companions and
their amusements, to pass whole days with the good widow; listening to
her fond talk about her boy, and blushing with secret pleasure, when
his letters were read, at finding herself a constant theme of
recollection and inquiry.
At length the sudden return of peace, which sent many a warrior to his
native cottage, brought back Eugene, a young sun-burnt soldier, to the
village. I need not say how rapturously his return was greeted by his
mother, who saw in him the pride and staff of her old age. He had
risen in the service by his merits; but brought away little from the
wars, excepting a soldier-like air, a gallant name, and a scar across
the forehead.
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