“Stop!” He ran towards her. Earles said, “but this is rubbish. Don't you understand? Back among your own again, and only a few of us the wiser. “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. ” Annabel rose slowly to her feet, walked to the door as though to see that it was shut, and came back with slow lagging footsteps. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. The nurse sent for him as soon as she saw that you were conscious.
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