And what letters! Reardon never published anything equal to those.

'I have received your poem,' Amy replied to one of them.
And she was right; not a letter, but a poem he had sent her, with every word on fire.
The hours of talk! It enraptured him to find how much she had read, and with what clearness of understanding.

Latin and Greek, no.

Ah! but she should learn them both, that there might be nothing wanting in the communion between his thought and hers.

For he loved the old writers with all his heart; they had been such strength to him in his days of misery.
They would go together to the charmed lands of the South.