Our intercourse was henceforth most
frequent and intimate, and knew no cloud nor coldness. Daily
we were much with her, and daily we felt more sensible of the
worth and value of our friend. To me she seemed so unlike what
I had thought her to be in America, that I continually said,
'How have I misjudged you,--you are not at all such a person
as I took you to be.' To this she replied, 'I am not the
same person, but in many respects another;--my life has new
channels now, and how thankful I am that I have been able to
come out into larger interests,--but, partly, you did not know
me at home in the true light.' It was true, that I had not
known her much personally, when in Boston; but through her
friends, who were mine also, I had learned to think of her
as a person on intellectual stilts, with a large share of
arrogance, and little sweetness of temper. How unlike to
this was she now!--so delicate, so simple, confiding, and
affectionate; with a true womanly heart and soul, sensitive
and generous, and, what was to me a still greater surprise,
possessed of so broad a charity, that she could cover with its
mantle the faults and defects of all about her.
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