Whenever you grow impatient with her, remember the folly of her father. “You poor child!” he said; “don’t you see the infinite folly of these proceedings? Think! Think of the love and affection you abandon! Think of your aunt, a second mother to you. The moment she entered the room and he rose, she felt that she was immediately consigned to the circle of strangers; and it emptied her heart of its joy and filled it with diffidence. CHAPTER XXII. “But, dear, think! He is your father. Burn your palette and your easel. "I carried them off on the fatal night when we got into Wild's house, and you were struck down," replied Blueskin. ” “How delightful!” exclaimed Anna.
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