How precious was every word! How often and often did she read it over, until every line was engraven on her memory! Then she sat down, and spent some two or three hours in replying to it.

As she sealed this first epistle to her husband, full of tender expressions, she sighed, as the wish arose in her mind, involuntarily, that she could only go with it its journey to the village of -- --.
Long were the hours, and wearily passed, to Henry Gray.

It was the sixth day of trial before Lucy's answer came.

How dear to his heart was every word of her affectionate epistle! Like her, he went over it so often, that every sentiment was fixed in his mind.
"Two weeks longer! How can I bear it ?" he said, rising up, and pacing the floor backwards and forwards, after reading her letter for the tenth time.

On the next day, the seventh of his lonely state, Mr.Gray sat down to write again to Lucy.