Perhaps by the time you get back to London, you will not wish to send me anything." "I cannot imagine such a case.

But I shall endeavor, as you leave it all to me, to find something pretty and appropriate; something suited to the most gifted person, among men and women, that I have found in the New World." Mistress Putnam's face colored with evident pleasure--even she was not averse to a compliment of this kind; knowing, as she did, that she had a wonderful intellectual capacity for planning and scheming.

In fact if she had possessed as large a heart as brain, she would have been a very noble and even wonderful woman.

Master Raymond thought he had told no falsehood in calling her the "most gifted"-- he considered her so in certain directions.
And so they parted--the last words of Mistress Putnam being, the young man thought, very significant ones.
"I would not," she said in a light, but still impressive manner, "if I were you, stay a very long time in Boston.

There is, I think, something dangerous to the health of strangers in the air of that town, of late.
It would be a very great pity for you to catch one of our deadly fevers, and never be able to return to your home and friends.