“MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. ‘Small wonder in a way that he found hisself consolation elsewhere. " "I have no people—anybody who would care. The second look told me I was wrong. "Good-bye!" For a moment Ruth was tempted to fling herself against the withered bosom; but long since she had learned repression. ’ ‘And where do you propose to go?’ enquired Gerald carefully. But for him——” Something in her sister’s tone startled Anna. There are some papers I have to look through to-night—important papers. "This gash," he added, pointing to one of the larger scars, "was a wipe from the hanger of Tom Thurland, whom I apprehended for the murder of Mrs. "A husband has little to fear from his wife's kinsfolk. I made the pies.
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