An' bless de Lord, is it Miss Lizzie? said the good natured woman, as the sound of Lizzie Heartwell's voice fell upon her ear in the kindly spoken salutation.Its cause was a mystery fitzgerald scott f even to her friends.The great bell in the cupola of Madam Truxton's seminary had sounded, and all the pupils, large and small, were gathered to join in the opening exercises.Her eyes were still fitzgerald scott f beautiful, but their lustre had been dimmed by the tears of her widowhood.Mine is no sudden grief, Lizzie it is a long, sad story, one that I have never felt at liberty to inflict upon any one's hearing, and yet, I have always found you so tender and so true, that when any additional sorrow comes to me my heart strangely turns to you for sympathy.Bertha Levy, the little darked eyed Jewess who stood by her side under the stone archway, was nothing more or less than a piquant little maiden, just turned seventeen, of amiable disposition and affectionate heart, fitzgerald scott f but by no means partial to study, and always ready to glean surreptitiously from her books, any scraps of the lesson that might be useful, either to herself or her friends, in the ordeal of recitation.' Won't you go? Not to day, Le Grande.Levy, replied Lizzie, I indeed esteem it an honor to meet the mother of such a friend fitzgerald scott f as Bertha.Yes, Lizzie, but there is a peculiar yearning, in my heart for you, at times.Do forgive me, if you think so, and let us retire, for I have an fitzgerald scott f awful task of study awaiting me to morrow.
