"You will write to me from Frankfort?" said
Rebecca.
"Indeed I will," said Nina; "and you, you will write to me often, very
often?"
As often as you will wish it."
"I shall wish it always," said Nina; and you can write; you are clever.
You know how to make your words say what there is in your heart."
"But you have been able to make your face more eloquent than any
words."
"Rebecca, dear Rebecca! Why was it that he did not love such a one as
you rather than me? You are more beautiful."
"But he at least has not thought so."
"And you are so clever and so good; and you could have given him help
which I never can give him."
"He does not want help. He wants to have by his side a sweet soft
nature that can refresh him by its contrast to his own. He has done
right to love you, and to make you his wife; only, I could wish that
you were as we are in religion." To this Nina made no answer. She could
not promise that she would change her religion, but she thought that
she would endeavour to do so. She would do so if the saints would let
her.
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