Then Courtlaw looked across at her with a white puzzled face. " With this praiseworthy determination, he was hastening down stairs, with the utmost rapidity, when he encountered a female, whom he took, in the darkness, to be 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. It began in the eyes and spread to the lips: warm, embracing, even fatherly. A few seconds sufficed to clear the passage, through which it had previously cost him more than two hours to force his way.
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