My desk was literally covered with blossoms while their season lasted, and little fairy fingers were always twining with wreaths the dark hair they loved to arrange according to their own juvenile fancies.
My noon hours at Dr.Harlowe's, were pleasant episodes in my daily life.
Mrs.Harlowe was an excellent woman.

She was called by the villagers "a most superior woman,"-- and so she was, if admirable housekeeping and devotion to her husband's interests entitled her to the praise.

She was always busy; but the doctor, though he had a wide sweep of practice in the surrounding country, always seemed at leisure.

There was something so cheerful, so encouraging about him, despondency fled from his presence and gave place to hope.
I love to recall this era of my life.

If I have known deeper happiness, more exalted raptures, they were dearly purchased by the sacrifice of the peace, the salubrity of mind I then enjoyed.