"What's the matter?" repeated Mrs. “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. Courtlaw found himself ushered without questions into Annabel’s long low drawing-room, fragrant with flowers and somewhat to his surprise, crowded with guests. He seemed to her indistinguishably about her father’s age. His lips parted in a rare smile. "He is all alone. Near by stood Ah Cum and the young unknown, the former protesting gently, the latter insistent upon his demands.
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