Gentlemen,—Mr. ” “Why?” asked Hetty. Earles attended her obsequiously to the door. “A bad thing for me when that legacy came. She had worried in fear that the excitement would be too much for him. “Are you with us?” said the tired woman. What do you think, Annabel?” “I don’t think they would,” she admitted. ‘Mademoiselle,’ he had greeted her, entering the little private parlour where, Martha being at prayer in their room, she sat alone, reading over and over the letter Mother Abbess had given her and revolving plans in her head. But there was a face pressed to the glass. .
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