It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. " "You astonish me," said the stranger, in a voice full of emotion. As Mrs. It would be easy enough for me to write an eloquent letter about something else. She knew Martha would not ask anything that she did not wish to know. That bruise will answer the same purpose. Then began expostulations, preluded by a telegram and headed by her aunt. When first brought under consideration, she was a miserable and forlorn object; squalid in attire, haggard in looks, and emaciated in frame.
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