"Come with me, my love, come—come," cried his mother, seizing his hand, and endeavouring to force him away. "I can't tell you!" she replied, blushing deeply, and clinching her little hand as tightly as possible; "it's a secret!" "I'll soon find it out, then," he returned, playfully forcing the paper from her grasp. Ice had begun to form in the shallows. I'll try to think better of him in future. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. She moved a little nearer to him.
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