" With this, she burst into tears, and sank with her face upon his shoulder. "This locket," he said, taking a little ornament attached to a black ribband from his breast, and giving it her,—"do you remember it?" "I do—I do!" cried Winifred. " New? That did not describe her. " "Enough," returned Jackson, extending his hand; "and if I've expressed myself warmly, I'm sorry for it likewise. For now, I fear there is something worse, something more present. She would be haunted by the visions of their mad faces in her dreams for the next hundred years.
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