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All love is sweet,Given or returned. Common as light is love,And its familiar voice wearies not ever. -- Shelley. "Come in, Vi, darling," said Mrs. Travilla's sweet voice, "we will be glad to have you with us." Violet, finding the door of her mother's dressing-room ajar, had stepped in, then drawn hastily back, fearing to intrude upon what seemed a private interview between her and her namesake daughter; Elsie being seated on a cushion at her mamma's feet, her face half hidden on her lap, while mamma's soft white hand gently caressed her hair and cheek
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