The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold. "Allow him that small grace," cried Wood. I’m sorry. " "Thames," said Sheppard in a low voice, as he threw a vindictive glance at the carpenter, "I shan't forget this. He addressed her by that title, and something in the tone disturbed her. That day Gerald had brought her to this excessively careful house, where she had felt very much alone and very unlike herself. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. I want to love him. ’ ‘Dear me.
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