She turned her head away sharply. "But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. She appeared not to have realised the implications of her outburst, but clung a little to Gerald’s hands which had taken hers in a comforting clasp. ‘Danged if I ever hear the like,’ he repeated blankly. “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. Anna took up the pen, and signed, after a moment’s hesitation, A. Sheppard, passing her hand across her brow; "but my memory is gone—quite gone.
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