There was no mistaking his intentions this time. “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. Much to my amazement, as soon as I was in her presence I forgot about my magic and thought only of love. ‘I must get a handkerchief. "Hurrah!" shouted he, waving his hat triumphantly over his head. Keeping hold of the doorhandle, she turned slowly. He was helpful, but gravely dubious. “Oh, but life is difficult!” she groaned. Accordingly, he proceeded to a gate which stood upon the south, and guarded the passage communicating with the leads. ’ The woman shrugged helpless shoulders, looking to her husband. ” “Why?” Mr.
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