“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. I kept watch over you, for fear of a surprise on the part of Jonathan. That is very bad, certainly, and for this he was extremely sorry. ” The redness in his face betrayed him. Mac's. She wanted to cry out upon herself for the uttermost fool in existence. Once or twice she commented upon it, but she knew that it was resultant of his fear of her impending departure.
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